Only his thinning gray hair gave a clue to his age, and that seldom was uncovered from beneath the low-crowned, flat-brimmed hat he wore tilted slightly forward, low over his slate gray eyes. “Yeah, Britt, I heard it was comin’.” The bony shoulders rose and fell. “Well, let’er come. I’ll kill the...
Heat was a way of life to him. He was to a considerable extent inured to it. He left his saddle, rolled once and stood up again, holding one split rein. His horse was surprised but not particularly startled. It stood peering around as Parker drew forth his Winchester. The man who had fired that s...