Trap Angel (Frank Angel Western #3) - Plot & Excerpts
Although he was no military strategist, he could not help but admire the effectiveness of Denniston’s dispersion of his men. Between the chattering Picketwire and the road, at a place where the old Trail curved around and almost back upon itself as it labored upwards into the mountains, Denniston spread his men among the trees, where they dug holes and shallow trenches, lying and mock-sighting the Winchesters and Springfields on their imaginary target in the road. At the crest of the curve itself, among tumbled boulders that frowned down on the steeply-sloping Trail, Denniston’s men manhandled the spindly Gatling gun into position, its brassy snout dulled now with blacking, stacking brush and tree branches around it until it blended with the broken land, its field of fire the curve below, towards which men fired upon would unquestionably scatter. Behind and around the gun other men were scooping out shallow dugouts, rolling big rocks into position to provide cover, a further addition to the terrible scything weight of fire which the primitive machine-gun would lay down on the Trail below.
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