“Below the tiled steps of the chapel, two fresh saddled horses waited with four heavily-laden pack mules. Sheriff Bass held the reins of the lead horse as Iron Eyes descended the steps toward the lawman. ‘You sure about this, Iron Eyes?’ Bass asked, as the thin hands accepted the leather reins and began gathering them up. ‘This ain’t your fight.’ ‘Maybe it is.’ ‘How come?’ ‘Maybe them bandits have a price on their heads. If they have, it’s mine, Bass.’ Iron Eyes began to grin as the thought of h...unting vermin filled his mind. Bass shook his head and pulled the brim of his hat down to shield his eyes from the merciless sun. ‘It still don’t figure.’ ‘You get everything I told you to get, Bass?’ Iron Eyes asked as he studied the pack mules carefully. ‘I got the whole darn caboodle,’ Bass answered. Iron Eyes slapped the man’s shoulder, stepped into his stirrup and mounted the horse. ‘Is this horse fast?’ ‘Faster than the wretched critter you rode in on, boy,’ Bass said, as the priest and Pablo reached them.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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