TW12 The Six-Gun Solution NEW Read Online Free
Author: Simon Hawke
where the altercation was taking place.
There were five men scaled at the table. One of them, a cowboy, had jumped up, sending his chair crashing to the floor. He had pulled a six-gun from beneath his coat and cocked it. The others were still sitting at the table, staring at him nervously. All except one man, who sat very still with his hands flat on the table.
He had his back to Neilson, but he was dressed like a gambler, in a dark, dandy's suit. The cowboy with his gun out was standing at a right angle to Neilson, his left side toward him, about a dozen feet away. Neilson quietly stepped aside, knowing that Leslie had a gun beneath the bar. The entire room became suddenly, completely silent,
“Come on now, take it easy, Slim." said one of the other men at the table.
That damn deck's marked!" the cowboy named Slim furiously accused the man with his back to Neilson.
"I can assure you, sir, that it is not," the gambler replied, in a calm and steady voice. "You are welcome to examine it. Any man here is welcome to examine it. I won that hand fair and square.”
"You !yin' bastard, you did not! You pulled some cheap, tinhorn trick!"
Men were quickly edging away from the vicinity of the table. Leslie waited until his field of fire was clear, then pulled a sawed-off shotgun from beneath the bar.
“Put up that pistol, friend,
right
now,
" said Leslie.
Neilson suddenly heard the ominous sound of a revolver being cocked.
"I don't believe he will, barkeep," another cowboy at the far end of the bar said. He had a gun aimed right at Leslie. "Now you put down that scattergun. Just rest it on the bar there, nice and easy, and step away."
Leslie hesitated for a second. "You don't want to do this, friend."
"You shut your damn mouth and do as I said!"
Leslie complied.
Slim turned toward the bar, moving so that he could clearly see both the gambler and Leslie. "You tell him, Jack! We'll show these cheatin' sons of bitches! That pot is mine by rights!"
Nobody moved.
"You, boy." said the man named Jack, talking to Neilson. He came around the end of the bar slowly. He aimed his gun at Neilson.
"Leave him out of this," said Leslie.
“I said, shut your damn mouth! Boy, take that scattergun and slide it down the bar to me, real careful like."
"Everybody just stay right where you are," said Slim, "and keep your hands where I can see 'em.”
"Be smart, cowboy," said the gambler, sitting perfectly still. You shoot anyone in here and you'll never make it out of town."
"Yeah? Well, you won't be around to find out, one way or the other.”
Neilson hadn't moved. The situation was getting ugly and he didn't want to chance being shot by a stray bullet. His mission was too important. Not to mention his life. If he slid that shotgun down the bar, Jack would have a better weapon with which to cover their escape after Slim had shot the gambler. And God only knew who else.
"
You, boy
!" shouted Jack. "You tired of livin'? I said, slide that scatter gun down here!"
"Leave him alone." said Leslie. "He's just a kid."
"You opened your damn mouth once too often!" Jack responded, moving his gun to fire at Leslie. And in that moment, Neilson moved.
His hand snaked down inside his coat as he drew and cocked the pistol in one smooth motion and fired at Jack, hitting him in the chest. Without pausing, he recocked the Colt as it rolled with the recoil, brought his arm around and fired at Slim, dropping him before Jack even hit the floor. It happened so fast that no one had a chance to react.
There was a moment's stunned silence, then somebody exclaimed, "Jesus. Mary and Joseph! Did you
see
that?"
“By God. I ain't
never
seen anyone that fast!" The saloon erupted into activity as Neilson stood there. Still holding his smoking gun. Great, he thought.
Now
what do I do?
"Right through the heart!" said someone, bending over Slim. "Dead center!"
"I'll be hog-tied!" said someone else, examining Jack's body. "This one, too!"
"Hold it right there!"
There were five men scaled at the table. One of them, a cowboy, had jumped up, sending his chair crashing to the floor. He had pulled a six-gun from beneath his coat and cocked it. The others were still sitting at the table, staring at him nervously. All except one man, who sat very still with his hands flat on the table.
He had his back to Neilson, but he was dressed like a gambler, in a dark, dandy's suit. The cowboy with his gun out was standing at a right angle to Neilson, his left side toward him, about a dozen feet away. Neilson quietly stepped aside, knowing that Leslie had a gun beneath the bar. The entire room became suddenly, completely silent,
“Come on now, take it easy, Slim." said one of the other men at the table.
That damn deck's marked!" the cowboy named Slim furiously accused the man with his back to Neilson.
"I can assure you, sir, that it is not," the gambler replied, in a calm and steady voice. "You are welcome to examine it. Any man here is welcome to examine it. I won that hand fair and square.”
"You !yin' bastard, you did not! You pulled some cheap, tinhorn trick!"
Men were quickly edging away from the vicinity of the table. Leslie waited until his field of fire was clear, then pulled a sawed-off shotgun from beneath the bar.
“Put up that pistol, friend,
right
now,
" said Leslie.
Neilson suddenly heard the ominous sound of a revolver being cocked.
"I don't believe he will, barkeep," another cowboy at the far end of the bar said. He had a gun aimed right at Leslie. "Now you put down that scattergun. Just rest it on the bar there, nice and easy, and step away."
Leslie hesitated for a second. "You don't want to do this, friend."
"You shut your damn mouth and do as I said!"
Leslie complied.
Slim turned toward the bar, moving so that he could clearly see both the gambler and Leslie. "You tell him, Jack! We'll show these cheatin' sons of bitches! That pot is mine by rights!"
Nobody moved.
"You, boy." said the man named Jack, talking to Neilson. He came around the end of the bar slowly. He aimed his gun at Neilson.
"Leave him out of this," said Leslie.
“I said, shut your damn mouth! Boy, take that scattergun and slide it down the bar to me, real careful like."
"Everybody just stay right where you are," said Slim, "and keep your hands where I can see 'em.”
"Be smart, cowboy," said the gambler, sitting perfectly still. You shoot anyone in here and you'll never make it out of town."
"Yeah? Well, you won't be around to find out, one way or the other.”
Neilson hadn't moved. The situation was getting ugly and he didn't want to chance being shot by a stray bullet. His mission was too important. Not to mention his life. If he slid that shotgun down the bar, Jack would have a better weapon with which to cover their escape after Slim had shot the gambler. And God only knew who else.
"
You, boy
!" shouted Jack. "You tired of livin'? I said, slide that scatter gun down here!"
"Leave him alone." said Leslie. "He's just a kid."
"You opened your damn mouth once too often!" Jack responded, moving his gun to fire at Leslie. And in that moment, Neilson moved.
His hand snaked down inside his coat as he drew and cocked the pistol in one smooth motion and fired at Jack, hitting him in the chest. Without pausing, he recocked the Colt as it rolled with the recoil, brought his arm around and fired at Slim, dropping him before Jack even hit the floor. It happened so fast that no one had a chance to react.
There was a moment's stunned silence, then somebody exclaimed, "Jesus. Mary and Joseph! Did you
see
that?"
“By God. I ain't
never
seen anyone that fast!" The saloon erupted into activity as Neilson stood there. Still holding his smoking gun. Great, he thought.
Now
what do I do?
"Right through the heart!" said someone, bending over Slim. "Dead center!"
"I'll be hog-tied!" said someone else, examining Jack's body. "This one, too!"
"Hold it right there!"
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