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The ShootistChapter 11: "A Declaration Of War" free porn video
It took two more months and three more robbery attempts before the inside man was caught. He was the chief dispatcher at Ft. Worth. His original intent had been to pay off some monster poker debts, but the lure of "easy" money had sucked him in too deep to give it up. Thus ended a very lucrative operation for me, but I had to admit that I was getting tired of riding trains. I think that the whores in El Paso were sad to see me go, though.
I was still leery of stagecoaches, so I did take the train to Dallas. Thankfully, nothing happened on that short trip. I looked around Dallas, but I did not find much of interest. I did work for a while as a bouncer in a whorehouse in Dallas. I did not need the money, so the madam and I agreed that I would work for room and board and a whore every night. That was no way equivalent to what I could make as a shootist, but it was heaven for a 16 year old boy, which I had now become.
The madam had also furnished me with a full dress suit to wear; the coat even had the split tails that only men in the highest society wore. My requirement was that the coat be tailored so that I could wear my shoulder holster rig under the coat. I did give up my thigh holsters for this job. I also carried a knuckle-duster in my pocket, and, by now, I was plenty big enough to use it very effectively. However, this was such a highfaluting whorehouse that it was officially called a "brothel," and I never had to use my weapons. I was now so much larger than most men that all it took from me was a stern look to calm most men down.
When I got to 17 years old, though, I realized that I was going to seed! I had started to put on too much belly fat, and I was smoking too many cigars. Not only that, sex every night was starting to lose its charm. I never thought that I would say that; I had wanted sex every day ever since I found out what it was all about from that whore beside the road all those years ago. Anyway, I turned in my fancy suit and bade goodbye to the madam and the whores of Dallas and moved on.
I wanted to lose the belly fat that I was carrying. Hell, there must of been as much as 10-15 pounds of the stuff, and I wanted to see this part of Texas that was totally new to me, so I decided to ride a horse. It was a long way to go, but I figured that I would lose the weight if I rode to Galveston. I chose that place because I still wanted to see all of that water everybody kept talking about. I had trouble believing the stories, and I wanted to see for myself.
I bought a horse for the trip, but I did not bother with a pack mule. This part of Texas was well populated, and there were plenty of places to stop off for a meal and to spend the night. Just in case, I had a strongbox made to fit inside my saddle bag. I now had too much gold to carry it conveniently in my moneybelts, so I needed some other way to handle it. Hey, ain't it nice to be able to say that I had too much money!
Another thing I hoped to see when I got to Galveston was one of them huge hurricane storms that people talked about. I had seen the occasional tornado, but I figured that people were pulling my leg with stories about wind storms lasting hours or days. I wanted to see for myself if such a thing was real.
So, one morning I headed out toward Houston, what was on the way to Galveston. This was a road in very good condition, and there was a lot of traffic on it. That woke me up real fast to the probability of the road also being infested with road agents about as thick as fleas on a hound dog. I did not see any sign of road agents on my first day; I think that was because I was too close to Dallas and the traffic was too heavy. A road agent does not want to be interrupted while he transacts his business.
My second day was a different story. I was about 35 miles from Dallas, and the traffic had thinned out quite a bit. That's why I was not surprised to come upon a holdup in progress. A man was holding a shotgun on a man and a woman in a carriage. That carriage was a tip off of wealth; ordinary folks would have been riding in a buckboard or other such wagon.
I figured that it was my Christian Duty to stop the holdup. Besides, I might make a profit from my efforts. I had to be careful, though, or the two robbery victims could be shot in the melee. Therefore, I had to think quick! While I was still out of range of the shotgun, I yelled at the bandit so as to divert his attention from the couple in the carriage. I figured that would make him pay attention to me without startling him so much that he reflexively pulled the trigger.
He turned toward me, and he aimed the shotgun in my direction. The range was a little too long for a revolver, but I drew one of my guns from my thigh, since I was not pressed to draw in a hurry (I was wearing all four guns). I stopped my horse and used both hands to steady my aim. He was in three-quarter profile to me, so I had a shot at his chest, and his horse's head was not in the way. I aimed a little high to allow for the drop of the bullet as it traveled about 250 feet. His horse twitched just as I fired, so I knew that I was not going to hit where I had aimed—the bullet would just take too long to get to him.
All my effort was not completely wasted. I hit him somewhere in the gut, and that caused him enough shock and pain to drop his shotgun to the ground. Now, he was wounded and only had his revolvers for weapons. I knew then that I had him completely overmatched. I kept my gun in my left hand as I urged my horse to speed toward the wounded man. He was slumped over his saddle horn, and I would not have been surprised to see him fall to the ground at any moment.
Dammit, he was playing 'possum! Sure, he was badly wounded, but he was not going to give up without a fight. When I got to within about 50 feet, he jerked upright and fired his pistol at me. I was not sure how I escaped—maybe he was not as good a shot as he thought he was, or maybe his wound affected his ability to shoot accurately. Whatever it was, his bullet only tore at my shirt sleeve. Without giving the matter any thought, I fired two more bullets into the thief, and, this time, I blew him out of the saddle. I was sure that he was dead by the time he hit the ground!
All of this took only about a minute, and the couple in the carriage were still holding up their hands. I said, "You may lower your hands, now. I mean you no harm."
The couple gratefully lowered their hands, and the man said to me, "Thank you, Mister. There is no question but what you saved our lives. We are eternally grateful. What is your name, and how can we reward you?"
It turned out that the couple were fairly old, 45 at least. The woman, especially, was showing signs of her age. I said, "Most people call me The Twin Oaks Kid. I do not need no reward. I was just doing my Christian Duty."
The old man said, "Well, Sir, my name is Dudley Forester, and I feel like you deserve something for your good deed. Here, please take this for your trouble." I was impressed when he gave me a $100 gold bar. He looked like he could afford it, and I did not want to hurt his feelings, so I accepted the gold bar with thanks.
Mr. Forester also said, "We are only two miles from our home. Will you do us the honor of joining us for dinner?" Ma had always drilled into me to be polite, so I accepted his offer. I asked them to pause long enough to allow me to move the body off the road and to check him for valuables. One glance was enough to tell me that he was not on any of my wanted posters.
I took his weapons and seven Double Eagles, $140, plus some loose change. This was already a very profitable morning, and I had not even sold his horse, yet!
It was almost noon, and I was hungry, so I was very glad for the invitation to dinner. I ate an excellent meal and enjoyed an after-dinner cigar with Mr. Forester while we sat on the front veranda.
We were almost finished with our cigars when three men rode up too fast and covered us with dust when they came to a sliding halt. The man in the middle said, "Dammit, Forester, I have waited long enough! You will give me your daughter in marriage tomorrow. I do not care what she says, I want her!"
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