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FOREWORD
 
 

 

 

 

YER IN THE WRONG TOWN MISTER

Shorty was wounded and had lost more than a dab of blood. He was slouched over in his saddle as he rode into Holbrook, Arizona. In front of him tied to their saddles were the Collins brothers. He slid from the saddle in front of the sheriff’s office. Tying Dunnie he told Jody and Jim to get down. ‘Can’t, we’re tied to the saddle horn.”

Shorty didn’t untie the ropes, just cut them with his knife. They dismounted and walked inside. A deputy jumped to his feet. “What’er you doing’ with Jody an’ Jim?”

“Where’s the sheriff?”

“Gone over to Page.”

“I’m lockin’ these fellers up for a spell.”

“Yer in the wrong town Master. This is Frank Collins’ town an’ them are his sons.”

“Are you gonna help er get in the way?”

“Only help I’ll give is get you the doctor, if you don’t pass out first.” Out the door he ran as Shorty locked the boys up and sat down behind the desk.

 

   
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