Reece burst through the barn doors at a run, throwing the Sharps rifle towards Willis while he checked his own Winchester.
“What in tarnation is going on, boss?”
“Bumped into a group of mean-looking gentlemen packing irons. I turned and ran back and they took a shot or two at me. Seems like we have been trussed up ready for the pot by that mealy-mouthed Mexican. He took us for being rich and stupid.”
“Stupid we aint,” said Willis and shuffled over to the doors. Stooping down on one knee, he peered through the c***k into the gloom of the night. “What"s the plan?”
“Shoot the bastards as they come round the corner. I reckon once we take out the head honcho, the others will scoot.”
“And if they don"t?”
“Then we shoot them, too.”
“Nothing like half measures, Mr Reece.”
“I ain"t ever bee
