Shadow of Legends Read Online Free PDF Page A

didn’t see any others.
    I surmise it’s the posse plowing that dust. I surmise it’s the stagecoach hold-up men in the boulders. I surmise I can cut off their retreat without getting myself shot. Lord, that surely is a lot of surmising. And it’s about time to let the party begin.
    The moment the galloping horses crested the rise in the road that led to the boulders, Todd fired a .45-caliber ball of lead into the tree trunk where the horse was tied. Splinters flew as the horse jerked free and bolted down the hillside.
    The horsemen from the north reined. Several shots exploded in Todd’s direction from gunmen cloaked in the boulders. He crouched in the safety of the trees and studied the horsemen up the road as they scrambled to safe positions. The first man off his horse wore a round, floppy black felt hat, a thick gray drooping mustache and chin almost as pointed as his long hawklike nose. An iron gray, bulky carbine was in his right hand.
    Alright, Daddy Brazos, you’re leading the posse. Now, let’s pin these boys down without any of us getting hurt.
    Todd emptied a couple more shots in the direction of the boulders. I can’t hit you back here, Boys, but I can keep the back door closed.
    Gunshots blasted from up the trail, and the outlaws in the boulders returned fire, ignoring Todd. He scooped several cartridges from his suit coat pocket and reloaded the cylinder as he waited for the gunman to flee up the trail.
    Black powder explosions.
    Puffs of gunsmoke.
    Muffled shouts.
    Whinnies of horses.
    They won’t come out of those boulders until they run out of bullets. You’ve got them pinned, Daddy Brazos, but you don’t have them captured.
    Sweat rolled down Todd’s face and melted into the starch of his stiff shirt collar. His right wrist cramped as he trained the gunsights on the back of the boulders.
    Then the gunshots stopped.
    Someone shouted from the protection of the trees up the trail.
    It was a familiar voice.
    â€œBoys, toss out those guns and come walkin’ out slow. I’ve got a stick of dynamite here, and I reckon I’ll just toss it in those boulders if you don’t come out real quick.”
    Todd allowed his revolver to slump in front of him. Not the old dynamite trick, Daddy Brazos.
    â€œYou ain’t got no dynamite,” someone from the rock screamed.
    Todd yanked the revolver up and took aim at the boulders. You’re right about that, Mister. I presume you’ll try to make your break this way.
    â€œLook out here. What do you see?” Todd heard his father shout.
    More than likely they see a straight stick and a string. Daddy, that old bluff won’t work again.
    Two shots blasted from the rocks.
    They aren’t buyin’ it, Daddy.
    â€œYou boys intend on being buried in the same grave, I take it. Won’t be enough attached to tell which parts belongs to who. We’ll jist pile you all up together in a common hole.”
    â€œYou cain’t bluff us!” a voice screamed, and a couple more shots were fired.
    This time a deeper voice hollered back. “Boys, this is Sheriff Seth Bullock. I trust you know that it’s Brazos Fortune holdin’ the dynamite.”
    â€œOl’ Man Fortune?”
    â€œIt ain’t Junior!” Bullock shouted.
    â€œWe thought the old man was dead!”
    â€œYou thought wrong, Boys,” the sheriff yelled. “And I can’t help you now.”
    An object flew through the air toward the huge boulders.
    â€œRun fer it, Boys, he done tossed it!” the sheriff screamed.
    Two men dove into the dirt of the roadway, throwing their guns out in front of them. Hands wrapped around their heads, they waited for an explosion.
    Todd gazed up the trail. His father, Sheriff Bullock, and the Jims emerged from behind the trees.
    The dark-headed, small unshaven man in the road sat up and screamed. “I told you he didn’t have any dynamite!”
    â€œBoys, Boys,