Black Jack, page 159 by Max Brand
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"Wait a minute," cut in big blond Phil Marvin. Don't spoil the story for Terry. But did he really do for Larrimer? Larrimer was a neat one with a gun--no good otherwise."
"Did he do for Larrimer?" echoed Denver in his purring voice. "Oh, man, man! Did he do for Larrimer? And I ain't spoiling his story. He won't talk about it. Wouldn't open his face about it all the way home. A pretty neat play, boys. Larrimer was looking for a rep, and he wanted to make it on Black Jack's son. Came tearing in.
"At first Terry tried to sidestep him. Made me weak inside for a minute because I thought he was going to take water. Then he got riled a bit and then--whang! It was all over. Not a body shot. No, boys, nothing clumsy and amateurish like that, because a man may live to empty his gun at you after he's been shot through the body. This young Hollis, pals, just ups and drills Larrimer clean between the eyes. If you'd measured it off with a ruler, you couldn't have hit exact center any better'n he done. Then he walks up and stirs Larrimer with his toe to make sure he was dead. Cool as hell."
"You lie!" cried the girl suddenly.
They whirled at her, and found her standing and flaming at them.
"You hear me say it, Kate," said Denver, losing a little of his calm.
"He wasn't as cool as that--after killing a man. He wasn't."
"All right, honey. Don't you hear him singing out there in the stable? Does that sound as if he was cut up much?"
"Then you've made him a murderer--you, Denver, and you, Dad. Oh, if they's a hell, you're going to travel there for this! Both of you!"
"As if we had anything to do with it!" exclaimed Denver innocently. "Besides, it wasn't murder. It was plain self-defense. Nothing but that. Three witnesses to swear to it. But, my, my--you should hear that town rave. They thought nobody could beat Larrimer."
The girl slipped back into her chair again and sat with her chin in her hand, brooding. It was all impossible--it could not be. Yet the