Christmas Story

The killer's and the spoilers and that's with the US Marshall and the smell of gun smoke The story of the violence that moved West with young America The story of a man who moved with it Matt Dillon United States Marshall Everything was all right until about a mile north of the semuron

That's when my horse got a hoof caught in a frozen dog hole, and so I had to shoot him off a bat I I didn't feel any better thinking about the walk ahead of me.

Most of 40 miles to dodge and carry my saddle all the way. I guess I'd been on the trail about an hour, near as I could figure this round of three in the afternoon, and I'd ease the saddle off my shoulders for a rest and a smoke.

And that's when I saw the stranger, riding up from the way I'd come. He was tall and thin, and his horse was taller and even thinner. And they make quite a pair. No, my horse busted his leg away back.

I'm on my way to Dodge. That's your house, huh? I saw it. Yeah. On the way to Dodge, yeah? Yeah, that's right. You got any more of that to back him? No, sure. Here you are.

Thanks. Thanks a lot. That's okay. Big walk you've got ahead, ain't it? Kind of. You're going to be dark soon. You figure making camp? camp. That's the idea. Well it's too bad. Yeah. You need any food? No no no thanks.

I got no. I thank you for the tobacco. Sure. Anytime. The arm. I'd say in this beast won't drop dead from the shark foot. Do you want to climb on behind? Save you a piece of boot leather for a while anyway. Well I'd be much obliged if you think that animal of yours can carry us. Well she won't mind.