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They think they’re so tough…..The
seven of them…think they’re invincible. Well, we almost took them down today.
Yes siree almost made that stinkin’ dog Larabee fall like a common lawdog.
Luck I tell you. Just plain luck
that things turned out differently. We had ‘em. They were as good as dead.
Fact, I think we killed a couple of ‘em…but….
Some Yahoos say the Seven have
Destiny on their side, some say they have God watchin’ over ‘em. Well I
know…know for a fact that ain’t it… No way. God don’t like no one, specially
me…but he don’t favor them Seven roosters.
That’s what they are ya know…ain’t
no better than preening roosters protectin’ their dumb flock. Jist gonna take a
coyote or a fox to take ‘em down. Yup…jist need something with a little grit
and teeth.
I coulda done it…easy…real easy…jist
everyone else screwed up. Weren’t my fault. I’s the leader they jist didn’t
follow my plan. The dang fools in my group weren’t suppose to git ‘emselves
killed.
Dang it all. I picked Four Corners
fer a good reason. Real good reason.
Others say, “If ya can rob the bank
in Four Corners…than there ain’t a bank in the territory you couldn’t take…” Well
we almost got it…Almost got away with it. That’s gotta account for
something…right?
I mean we took down the dang
sharpshooter. Yessirree, he flopped over the clap board front of the
Merchantile like a gutted fish. Hell, I laughed out loud when he toppled off
the roof down the awning and onto main street. Ya should’ve seen him bounce.
All that straggly hair of his covering his face. They say he’s part Injun…part
wild….well he ain’t got no wild bird in ‘im…not even a little. Fell like a lead
sinker, he did…fell and hit the ground with a bounce. Laughed my damn head
off….
Pete did too. Laughed so hard that
the dang fool never saw that Blacky of a healer skewer him with those knives of
his. What kind of town lets a slave carry knives like that? Just plain wrong I
tell you. Just ain’t right that something like that is allowed to happen. Ain’t
no way them people should carry weapons…that’s jist plain wrong….ain’t
natural….Rumor has it they treat ‘im like a white man….wrong…jist all wrong….
Well Pete crossed the Jordan right
quick. Didn’t stand much of a chance with a knife buried to the hilt in his
neck and the other in his chest. Well, just goes to show ya, if ya gonna laugh
at something ya jist best beware of yer surroundin’s. Pete never was to bright.
Come to think of it…he were jist plain dumb. Couldn’t find his hat cuz half the
time he were wearin’ it. Yup, Pete’s head made a good hat rack but not much
else. Still ain’t no reason for that Darky to go killin’ im like that…ain’t
right. Not at all.
That’s ok though, cuz Dave took a
bead on the slave….and woulda had ‘im too ‘cept that damn peacock of a gambler
pushed the healer out of the way and took the bullet.
Who would have imagined that? No,
what type of fool steps in front of a bullet? Makes no sense to me. Hell, when
the leads starts flyin’ its every man for ‘imself. Ain’t nuthin’ glorified in
eatin’ a bullet for a friend. Ain’t nuthin’ but a foolish dumb ass move. Hell,
what goods it gonna do ya iffen ya git killed? Makes no sense at all.
Lawmen must be dumb. Dumber than ole
Pete…never thought that possible but maybe so. Ain’t never witnessed anything
so stupid in my life….well except maybe that time Pete tried to light his
butt’s bean breath on fire and lit his curly short hairs on fire instead. Yeah,
that was pretty dumb. Burned his butt real bad, couldn’t ride for three days.
Sat in a river with no clothes on for a full day…now that was pretty dumb. Hell
of a laugh mind ya…
Still lightin’ yer bum on fire ain’t
nearly as fool hearty as takin’ a bullet for a Darky. Least with a burnt
bum…yer gonna live.
That gambler I thought fer sure was
dead.
That woulda been damn funny too. But
that big ole preacher got pissed. Yes siree, he took that gambler getting’ shot
a might personal. Now Preacher’s are suppose to turn the other cheek, ain’t
they? They’re suppose to be forgiven and understandin’ or so they say. Ain’t
ever met a preacher ‘fore….Well that’s what they’re supposed to be…forgivin’
and bible like…….but ain’t no one told that demon of a Preacher man. Seemed no
one ever told him to be merciful and forgivin’. Uh uh. Nope, it weren’t nuthing
but cruel, what he did to Davey. Picked him right up and squeezed the life out
of him. Well, maybe not exactly, but sure would have happened if Tom didn’t shoot
Davey by mistake when gun’n for the preacher.
Not that it mattered though. Tom
took a bead on the Church man. Just tryin’ to save Dave n’all but something
went wrong…Maybe ole Tom lost his spectacles. He’s always losin’ those dang
things. Can’t see a thing without them. But let me tell you…when he has them
on, hell, he could out shoot everyone and everything. Tom had a gift when he
had them specs on. But I’m figgerin’ he lost them….or maybe they fogged up but
when he squeezed the trigger to save Davy well he just plumb killed the poor
guy.
Preacher had the gall to tip his hat
in thanks.
The big mustached guy, well he
dragged that gambler back out of the way. Just grabbed him by the collar of his
coat and hauled his still ass behind a water trough.
What’s the point in savin’ a corpse?
Scavengers gutta eat ya know….ain’t no sense wastin’ breath on the dead. No
sense buryin’ the fools neither. Iffen they’re dumb enough ta git themselves
killed then let ‘em rot. ‘Sides it’s too hot to be diggin’ in the dirt anyhow.
Tried to teach that big cowboy a
lesson. Teach ‘im to leave the dead. Ain’t no use savin’ a dead man.
I would’ve gotten his slow lumbering
ass but that damn kid of a sheriff, well, him ‘n them twin colts jist kept
spraying the area with lead. Kid didn’t hit much. I coulda taken ‘im right easy
if I could jist raise my head up over the trough.
And through the whole thing them
dang Seven were shoutin’ and talkin’ to one another. Always yellin’ and
checkin’ in….backin’ each other up…..What kind of law dawg cares about shit
like that?
Heck, I dang near ate my hat when
that mustached cowboy yelled that the fool of a gambler were ok…a flesh wound….
What the hell? I’s sure Davy hit him
square on…looked that way to me. But oh no…somehow the dang fool lived.
When I looked back at their dead
sharpshooter he were gone too.
Larabee. He’s a devil I tell you. He
ain’t a man. No way. Ain’t nuthin’ human about that Sumbitch. He just strode
right down the middle of town pickin’ out targets and shootin’ them.
That black duster of his jist
flapped behind him like wings. Bat wings…yeah that’s what it’s like. Dang demon
jist walks down main street picks his targets and kills ‘em. He don’t give no
quarter. He don’t give no chance to surrender.
I guess if ya shoot at him…he’s
gonna shoot back and kill ya. Well, how’s that work? Dang fool suppose to up
hold the law…not kill people. So what we tried to kill ‘im and his dang
friends…it’s our job…Iffen it weren’t fer us…well then they wouldn’t be needed.
Hell, come to think of it…they
should be thankin’ us…yeah that’s right. Should be askin’ us if there’s
anythin’ we need…instead of lockin’ us up like common animals.
But not Larabee, the Devil, ‘im and
his band of demons. They don’t give no quarter. Even their wounded git up and
disappear.
Fact being, jist at the end, that
dang tracker, was balancing his rifle on a wagon and still shootin’ scalps off
the others. Lost Big Joe and Russ that way. Who the hell ever heard of fallin’
off a roof and gittin’ up jist to keep doin’ yer job?
Most likely witch craft. Yeah that’s
what it is…Dang fools dabble in the Black Arts.
How else could Larabee parade down
main street and kill my gang? Or the gambler who should be dead to rights, saw
him leaning against the saloon wall and be tended too by that sweet lookin’
Mexican Chiquita?
Even that dang pup, got hair that
blocks his sight but could shoot the hat of a man when needed.
It ain’t natural….not even a little.
My whole gang is dead. Davy, Tom,
Big Joe, Russ, Emmit, Sam and Jake. We came in to this stinkin’ town jist to
rob the bank. Ain’t a big deal came in to take a little, well, maybe a whole
lot of cash and be on our way. Ain’t our fault the dang bank Manager made me kill
‘im. Ain’t our fault that we had to shoot at a few citizens….Hell no.
Jist doin’ our job.
Ain’t right they kill most of my
men…ain’t right them law dawgs survived. Ain’t fair at all.
They say the Judge’ll be in
tomorrow…maybe he’ll see my side of things…yup…the circuit Judge will understand
jist what a Devil Larabee is…and the Demons that run with him.
Makes my heart beat a little easier
knowin’ tomorrow the Judge will see my side of things and let me go home.
Ain’t my fault…none if my doin’…dang
people made me pull my gun and shoot ‘em.
The Seven ain’t so tough…maybe after
the Judge sets me free I’ll git a new gang together and we’ll come back.
Cuz if ya can rob the bank in Four
Corners…You can rob jist about any bank in the territory.
Yeah… Tomorrow…. Tomorrow I’ll make
a name fer myself. I’ll be the one to clean out the Four Corners Bank…. yes
siree.
The end.