Was he a quiet
man . . . or just plain yeller?
DAY OF COURAGE
“Don’t try to be smart, Cannon! You reckon you ain’t yeller and you can outdraw me, huh? Well? Don’t you? You said as much when I first showed up here this mornin’ . . .”
Cannon licked at his lips, not daring to hope that the egotistical gunman would give him a chance on an even break to test his gunspeed. Hell, he was confident he could beat Griffin’s draw! If only the man was thinking along those lines . . .
“Yeah, I can outdraw you without missing a drag on my cigarette. I’ve seen old men get outta their rockers faster than you can fill your hand, Griffin.”
The taunt drove home and Griffin blanched, then drove a kick at Cannon’s head, but the rancher twisted and took the blow on the point of his left shoulder. Griffin was breathing hard, his nostrils white and pinched.
“All right!” Griffin hissed. “You’re gonna get a chance to prove it!”