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He saw a girl wearing only one shoe, and drew the other one from his pocket, tied it on her foot, and said to the girl, “You have to run now, please, go on and get!” She bolted off with the other children, Dalton then stalked back to the mesa’s edge, the men were standing, but not yet moving, unsure what had happened atop the ledge. Dalton just plunged down the steep, rocky slope, he had his pistol his pistol in hand for the fight, giring as he caromed down the pitch, his foes clear in the wintry moonlight. One of them yelped, and grabbed his left arm, the others just braced and returned fire, Dalton felt a round tear into his thigh, knew he’d be done if they hit much higher. He limped his way behind a large boulder, heard the loud shouts of his foes racing up, reloaded and shot, but his nothing else, with his leg shattered just moving was tough. There came a rustling off to his left, a gunshot slammed his chest with brutal force, his arm became heavy his pistol fell, he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. A hand grabbed his coat, and dragged him back down, towards the fire where the men had all sat, tossed him in front of the largest bandit, one of them boating, “We got him, Pat!” Patrick Miller was a scarred, weather man, bore all the marks of living a rough life, he sneered and said, “If you’re gonna ambush at least have enough sense to do it right!” He scoffed and said, “Who are you anyway?” Said Dalton, “You raped and murdered my boy.” Miller just laughed, “So much for your revenge, at least your boy’s last moments I enjoyed. “Sure, he was a weakling, scrawny and small, but I tell you what that boy did feel good! He made such whimpers just before the end with his backside stretched around my manhood!” The thugs laughed and mimicked a child’s cry, but Dalton was too broken now to rage, said, “God well get revenge for all of us, and at least now all the children are saved.” Now real anger flared up in Miller’s eyes, Dalton coughed, said, “They’re yours to sell no more.” Miller kicked him said, said, “Your death will be a truly slow, agonizing horror!” Dalton managed to sit back up again, and behind the thugs saw shapes in the night, Despite Miller’s sneer, Dalton had to grin, as Marshal Barnes cried, “Now throw your hands up high!” The bandits all turned, going for the guns, but Barnes and Gwinnett let loose with a hail, the marshals were fast, and try as he might Miller’s efforts came to no great avail. CONCLUDES IN PART V.
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