“Holzer said, “Got the son of a bitch, by gad. Keep your gun on him, Ed, in case he’s got a twitch of life left in him. I want that belt.” “My gun’s under a pile of rocks that fell off the ceiling. . . .” “Take mine.” Lassiter felt himself turned over on his back. His limbs flopped like coils of rope. Despite almost unbearable pain, no sound broke from his half-open mouth, stained with blood from the smashed lip. His eyes were closed. “He sure as hell looks dead to me,” said Kiley, peering down.... There was a sudden grinding of stone against stone. “More of them damn rocks fallin’!” Kiley cried in alarm. Something thudded against the mine floor, shaking it. Kiley gave another cry. “I’m gettin’ outa here!” He ran. Holzer quickly reached under Lassiter’s gunbelt to the belt that held up the canvas pants. Holzer unbuckled it, drew it slithering out of the pants loops. Through a forest of dark lashes, a numbed Lassiter watched Holzer slip the new belt through the loops of his pants.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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