The Great Westerns 328: Cold Steel – Hot Blood by GF Barner | eBook

The author has an unmistakable style of writing. He knows how to describe exciting revolver duels in a particularly vivid way and to shape the eternal fight between a law-abiding sheriff and an outlaw. He doesn’t shy away from reporting in detail when the blood is spilling and the feud for justice and law is escalating. This series presents the perfect western mix! From the construction of the railroad to treks of settlers who set off to conquer the country for themselves to gun duels – every western fan will find the right mix here. Fancy some prairie air? Then download the latest story today (and you’re good to go). The man was dead. He was lying on his back below the bluff between several larger boulders. His jacket had been torn open, even his shirt had been ripped out of his trousers. And his face was a bloodstain. “Back of the head,” Bolton said, in the tone of a man who’d been a paramedic and has since fancied he knew more about medicine than a doc. ‘Right in the back of my head, I bet. Poor bastard!’ Kelley felt sick. He had a box seat. In any case, Bolton described the seat of the Stagecoach as a box seat, because you could see everything particularly magnificently from above. And that’s why Kelley saw the man so well, if not completely. Finally Kelley looked away. His next glance fell on the mule and the pack saddle. The heavy bundle of linen had been torn open. A few shirts, woolen socks, a pair of high boots, and a newspaper were lying on the floor. The tools of the trade had slipped. The pickaxe, mallet, stone chisel, and shovel hung askew from the packsaddle. “One shot,” said Bolton, who always knew better.