The Killer in Black

Several folks have asked me how I found so much adventure in those early days of the West. The answer is, there was always plenty for a man to do just minding his own business. But sometimes, trouble pops up when you least expected it.

I remember one time California and I had been riding across the hills under the burning sun and suddenly we came on the prettiest little stream shaded by some cottonwood. Now, if you weren't in any particular hurry, what would you do in a case like that?

Yeah, you guessed it, and that's just what California and I were doing. Oh, that feels good. You too! It's nothing much good from the either-mames bones when he's been riding along with us. Yes, come on.

I'll get your hand up this lick back. Hey, this is Slicker. Now, we're in turn nation. Did we put our phone? Well, we've drifted down stream, by the way. Oh, there they are, hangin' on that bush up there.

Up we go. Well, here's your stuff, probably in here. Well, well, behold your swag, we got there, California. Oh, so I come all down, sneakin' coyote, to talk with my coz, and lift his face.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, well, there's fish, he's got the best of the bargain. Nice, black, steppin', black boot, black string tie. mighty fancy. They seem to fit all right, and my dudgers didn't stiffen up to walk off for themselves anyway.

Do you reckon that's what happens, Hoppy? Hey, look at what's in this pocket. It looks like a black mask to me, and it's got fresh blood on it. And Hoppy, the sculptor, it ain't mine, and it's just been fired.