THE BULLET
AND THE BOMB
Pike Cutler stomped onto the landing and started down. At the sight of Skye Fargo he
stopped. "You!" he snarled, hefting a wooden keg clasped in his
enormous paws. "It's all your doing. When I"m done with those
savages, I'll deal with you." his features were a twisted perversion of
anything human, his eyes wide, the pupils dilated. "This will do the job!"
He lifted the keg higher, revealing a fuse that jutted from the top.
Fargo's "Colt boomed.
Jarred onto his heels, Pike Cutler swayed but did not fall. He hissed
defiantly. His left hand moved and match flared brightly. "Think that
will stop me?" he railed.
Again Fargo worked the hammer, and a fourth time. Each shot staggered
the man mountain. Yet Cutler's iron will propelled him down the stairs, one
lumbering step at a time. the match touched the tip of the fuse, which spat sparks
and hissed like a venomous serpent. Spinning, Fargo sprinted toward the entrance.
Mocking laughter echoed off the walls.... |
DEATH'S HIDDEN
HAND
Bitteroot John redoubled his efforts, eager to finish Fargo off and get out of
there. Their blades locked, separated, locked once more. Both of them strained
to their utmost, pivoting for position, their legs braced like sturdy timbers.
It was Fargo who first realized they had strayed even closer to the river.
His left foot slid out from under him, and when he straightened to gain solid
purchase, there was nothing under him to hold him up. They were at the lip of the
bank. Off balance, he teetered.
The buffalo hunter's chance had come. Smirking, he drew back the
butcher knife for a final stab. At the same split second a distinct thunk heralded
the flight of an arrow. John arched his back, his mouth yawning in a soundless
scream.... |
