One-Man Massacre
“"Don't push your luck." "Don't push what luck? I was in pretty fair shape till I came down here." "Please, Tom, lie down," Rosemarie asked him plaintively.
"Man, just look at my duds," Buchanan said, observing for the first time that half his shirt was cut away, that only one trouser leg was intact. "Town looked so peaceful, too, from the mountain." "I'll outfit you," Neale said, bridling at the disparagement of Scotstown. "But don't blame the folks here for your troubles. It came from outsider...s, just—" "Just what?" Buchanan asked him. "Outsiders just like myself?" "True, ain't it? You're a stranger, and all of them are strangers. You just happened to pick this town to fight it out." "Billy!" "Well, that's what happened, isn't it?" Neale replied to the girl. "This is quiet, decent cattle country. Everybody works hard and takes time out Saturday night. Fist-fights, sure. But a man don't take a gun into town." He paused, stared defiantly at Buchanan. "I'm twenty-eight years old," he said, "and you're the first man I ever knew that killed another—that ever even pointed a loaded gun at another." "Billy—stop!" Rosemarie cried.MoreLess
"Man, just look at my duds," Buchanan said, observing for the first time that half his shirt was cut away, that only one trouser leg was intact. "Town looked so peaceful, too, from the mountain." "I'll outfit you," Neale said, bridling at the disparagement of Scotstown. "But don't blame the folks here for your troubles. It came from outsider...s, just—" "Just what?" Buchanan asked him. "Outsiders just like myself?" "True, ain't it? You're a stranger, and all of them are strangers. You just happened to pick this town to fight it out." "Billy!" "Well, that's what happened, isn't it?" Neale replied to the girl. "This is quiet, decent cattle country. Everybody works hard and takes time out Saturday night. Fist-fights, sure. But a man don't take a gun into town." He paused, stared defiantly at Buchanan. "I'm twenty-eight years old," he said, "and you're the first man I ever knew that killed another—that ever even pointed a loaded gun at another." "Billy—stop!" Rosemarie cried.MoreLess
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