CHAPTER THIRTY
The Robbery
The sun was nothing more than a dim smudge when the riders came into town, muffled in their thick blanket coats, hats crammed down hard on their pinched faces. They all wore gloves and scarfs, but the cold penetrated into their very flesh making them slow, weary. At their lead, Shapiro scanned the streets. He did not expect to see anyone this early and his plan was to find the nearest saloon, wait until the bank opened at nine, then hit it with everything they had. After he had checked, of course, that Nolan’s words were true.
With two men left standing outside, stamping their feet, Shapiro went through the batwing doors of the Parody Hotel and Saloon, three of his g**g behind him, all of them groaning in ecstasy as the heat from the twin wood burners position
