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Rated: E · Short Story · Western · #2298698
Keegan takes on one more job before calling it quits.
As he rode from town that Red-headed man worried Keegan some. Where had he seen him before? The face and body stance, the way he walked, no strutted down to the Sheriff's Office should have told him what he wanted to know. Eventually, it would come to him, that the man was a gun for hire for sure. How many others working for the Sheriff collected gun wages?

With no destination in mind, Keegan let his horse choose the direction and the pace. One thing for sure was he rode ready for trouble. No telling when it would come or from which direction. But that is the life he chose to live.

Back in town, the Red-headed stranger had seen Keegan ride out and planned to follow him. He was tired of waiting to collect the bonus Sheriff Cobb had put on his head, Five Thousand Dollars and he aimed to be the one to collect. At the Livery Stable, Pat Drake saddled his horse. Climbing aboard he rode out the back way so that neither the Sheriff nor his brother saw him ride. Once outside of town he found Keegan's tracks and followed behind him at a leisurely pace.

Four miles from town Keegan looked at his back trail and saw a flash of light on something shiny. He knew he was being followed and that is one thing that got under his skin. Usually, when someone started following you it meant they wanted to do something bad to you. Looking ahead there is a deep dip in the land. Keegan took to it and once at the bottom cut left trotting towards the Hills to the left. His horse seemed to know the urgency and did not fail to prove his worth.

For almost a mile he rode along the bottom, then when it started to flatten out he searched his surroundings for another way to travel. Off to his right maybe fifty feet, the Timber started and he rode out of that deep dip in the land at a gallop for it. He did not expect an angry shout or a shot at his back as whoever followed him still was a ways back. Reaching the Timber safely he paused a moment to study his back trail. The person did not seem to have noticed his departure and that was just the way Keegan wanted it.

Riding on a hundred yards or so deeper in the Timber, Keegan turned to the right to head back toward whoever followed him. He planned to intercept them and teach them the error of following people who did not like to be followed. If it was one of the hired guns, then his talking would be with a six-shooter or with his Henry rifle. He rode ahead with that purpose on his mind and almost failed to see his horse's ears stand up. A sure sign Danger is near.

Immediately Keegan stopped next to a large Ponderosa Pine that had to be an easy three feet in diameter. This would give both him and his horse some protection from whatever lay ahead. Sneaking a peek around the tree made him stare in wonder. A Moma Bear and her two cubs crossed his path merrily going their way. Keegan snapped back around the tree taking his Henry out of the saddle boot in case he needed it and he hoped to Hell he would not. He waited for fifteen minutes to give them time to move away. Then he snatched another peak and the coast was clear.

Still, he did not put up his rifle but carried it across his lap. Something kept nagging him and he could not figure it out right then. Eventually, though, it would present itself as it always did. Slowly he moved forward.

When he figured he was close enough, he headed back up the side of the hill. Soon he is able to see over the top of the ridge, only his head. His eyes were in constant movement taking in everything he could in a heartbeat and he saw enough to know these men meant to
do him harm. If he let them. Ground-hitching his horse's reins he bellied up to get in position. With a grim face, he tracked the nearest man, sighting on his chest.

Gently squeezing the trigger, his rifle kicked back into his shoulder with that old familiar feeling. A puff of smoke and the bullet slammed into the man's chest. Dust flew upwards as he somersaulted over his horse's rump to land on the hard ground. Panic ensued amongst the gang following him. Horses reared in place as they tried to figure out where the shot had come from. Since they were stopped, Keegan sighted on another man and blew his brains onto the man behind him. Finally after that the men decided it was time to move and they split up as they raced away. Offering up their backs he shot two more and downed one of them.

Keegan waited for fifteen minutes before moving back to his horse. Stepping into the saddle he rode forward over the ridge toward the original trail. Stopping next to the men on the ground, he looked around before dismounting. Going from body to body, he collected their pockets, weapons, and Horses. Leaving the bodies for varments to eat, he rode away his mind already thinking about what lay ahead of him. This was becoming more interesting by the moment.

Of the dead men he had left behind, none of them were the Redheaded stranger who had seen him ride from town. These were two dollars a day hired pieces of trash one could find in any town and ones nobody cared if they lived or died.

He wondered if the Peckerwoods had been hired by the Cobb brothers. These had been, but the others who would come along were responding to the bounty put upon his head. In the past other peckerwoods had tried to collect bounties and all they got is a cold hole in the ground.

Sheriff Cobb sat at his desk across from the Redheaded stranger. "What can I do for you, Mister?"

"I noticed Keegan rode out of town. Why isn't he in Jail where he belongs?"

"What business is it of yours? And who the Hell are you?"

"Jasper Stone. He killed two of my brothers a while back and I owe him."

"So, what do you want from me? I already put into play the way to take care of the problem. There is a $500 bounty on his head at this moment. And you still haven't answered my question. What do you want from me?"

"I do not want you to interfere with me killing him."

"I will not. Neither will my Deputies."

"That is all I wanted to know. Goodbye, Sheriff." Jasper stood up and strolled to the door. Opening it and stepping out onto the Boardwalk without a backward glance. Adjusting the sixgun riding low upon his right hip, he headed for the Stable to collect his horse. He did not see that Mr. Deeds had lept him under watch every since he had ridden into town a day ago.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2298698-The-Fast-GunChapter-Three