Jesse Buxton

About the Book

He and I made eye contact at the same time, it was Robert Myers.

With one arm he swept the hired lady out of the way, with the other up was coming a pistol. He shouted, "It's him!"

Those were his last words as I was out with my pistol and just a blazing away. My left hand was reaching for its pistol before the right hand gun clicked an empty chamber. The other two men had also produced pistols and they died for the effort. In less than five seconds three men died, Robert's only round missed, I had no idea where it went. I had emptied both handguns, and from the distance of less than six feet I believe every shot scored a hit.

I hit the door running as a stout red headed man was coming in. I had the momentum and knocked him back out the door. He landed flat on his back and slid off the porch. I ran past him giving him no never mind, grabbed up Jesus Christ's reins and we were off at a sprint. Jesus Christ, he could run.

About the Author

L.L Layman is a Peoria, Il., police officer and farmer who says he was born a century too late. For more on him and his series of Western novels, go to www.lllayman.com.