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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Blackjack’s face held its dark glare, he shook his head in disgust. “We rode all this way, and your great ‘treasure’ is some moldy old paper and dust?” He slowly moved his hand towards his gun, but besides him a short man spoke low: “The mayor may be a drunk but he will act if we leave his only clerk to the crows.” Blackjack looked to his fellow thug, then shrugged and ruffled through his bags, He took out two sticks of dynamite, and said,”Well I guess that’s just too bad. “I’d really like to fill this fool with lead, for leading us out this wild chase. Guess I’ll have to settle for seeing his face as his ‘endless history’ gets erased!” Gil surged forwards, but Lopez cracked him over the head with the butt of his gun. He fell to the ground, left to lie out in the harsh, endless desert sun. He heard a dull blast as he slowly awoke, and though bleary eyes saw rock tumble. In a flash of fire and a cloud of debris, the cave groaned then suddenly crumbled. Gil got to his feet, now all alone, and looked around at what remained. A single scrap of paper lay on the ground where Lopez had dropped it in a rage. Gil picked it up and stared up at the rock-choked, blast-strewn slope. He felt his breath seize in his lungs, he cried out, knowing there was no hope… For months he sulked over the loss, drinking at Buck’s more than the mayor. Such a discovery lost to a damned thug, the thought filled a man with despair. When a year had passed he showed up on day at the saloon, shaved, coiffed, and upbeat. He ordered not a drink, but pulled up next to a cowboy and helped himself to a seat. The puncher looked confused, especially when Gil pulled out a pen and then smiled: “Cowboy I’ll pay for all of your drinks, If you’ll talk with me for a while. “I’m here to record the tales of our time, Be they crazy or exciting or boring. You look like the type with some things to stay, So cowboy, tell me your story…” CONCLUDES IN PART IV.
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