>>24853756 (OP)
You faggots want to keep pushing, well here's some pushback. You thirdies and leafs could never.
Jackson fired. He simply passed his left hand over the top of the revolver he was
holding in a gesture brief as flintspark and tripped the hammer. The big pistol jumped
and a double handful of Owens's brains went out the back of his skull and plopped in
the floor behind him. He sank without a sound and lay crumpled up with his face in
the floor and one eye open and the blood welling up out of the destruction at the back
of his head. Jackson sat down. Brown rose and retrieved his pistol and let the hammer
back down and put it in his belt. Most terrible nigger I ever seen, he said. Find some
plates, Charlie. I doubt the old lady is out there any more.
They were drinking in a cantina not a hundred feet from this scene when the lieutenant
and a half dozen armed troopers entered the premises. The cantina was a single room
and there was a hole in the ceiling where a trunk of sunlight fell through onto the mud
floor and figures crossing the room steered with care past the edge of this column of
light as if it might be hot to the touch. They were a hardbit denizenry and they
shambled to the bar and back in their rags and skins like cavefolk exchanging at some
nameless trade. The lieutenant circled this reeking solarium and stood before Glanton.
