Thirty sixPulling the flat-bottomed wagon to a halt on the outskirts of Glory, Shelby took out his pouch of tobacco and rolled himself a cigarette. As he took in the smoke, his eyes scanned the deserted main street and that instinctive sense for the unusual that he possessed forced him to turn his eyes to several of the building tops.
He spotted the first figure within a few seconds, huddled in a thick black coat, the barrel of a musket poking skywards. Perhaps it was too early for the sentry to notice Shelby's approach. Perhaps he was asleep, or even frozen to death. Stupid to be so exposed.
Roaming across to the opposite side, just next door to the Golden Nugget, another man with another firearm. Shelby released a long stream of smoke. So, here it was. The final confrontation. He wonde
