| LUCKY OF THE DRAW As Skye Fargo entered the trading
post, he heard the sound of cards being ruffled. The only person in the place was
Curry, seated at a table playing solitaire.
Skye halted in front of the table. "Your card-playing days are
over."
"I've been expecting you," the gunman said unruffled.
"Figured it would be you and me eventually."
"Stand up", Skye said.
Curry made no move to comply. He deposited a red queen on a black
king. "What's your hurry to die, Trailsman?"
In this part of the West, Curry was king of the killers. And in
the game they were playing, the only way to top a king was to come up with bullets..... |
END OF HIS ROPE Fargo heard a swishing and looked up
as a lasso sailed from above and settled around him. Instantly it was yanked tight,
pinning his arms to his sides. There was a loud whoop and the drumming of hooves,
and he was dragged on his face through the dirt main street of Beartown.
But Cord's men weren't finished with him. The rider with the rope
spurred his mount so that the rope whipped Fargo against a wagon with savage force.
For a brief moment the rope went slack. Before the rider could pull it
taut, Fargo slipped out of the noose.
He was on his feet. He was bleeding, but his Colt was steady.
Cord's riders had had their fun. Now it was the Trailsman's turn..... |
