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Jessie glanced up and watched a tall man stride down the road, a big-fifty buffalo rifle slung across his back. His face was shrouded by the brim of his broad black Stetson, and his elegant attire seemed out of place against the backdrop of the rustic one-horse town. He wore a silk shirt beneath his vest that dithered between cobalt blue and whorehouse purple.Jessie’s attention was drawn to the man’s leather boots. He heard a steady jingle and thump as the man walked and his spurs danced.Jingle and thump. Jingle and thump.Jessie’s mouth fell open, and he looked at Grace to confirm his suspicions. She was white except for the dark brown of her narrowed eyes.“It’s him ain’t it. The Darksome Gunman.”The cicadas and crickets chirping their night song fell silent.Now the only sound truly was the jingle and thump of the Darksome Gunman’s approach.
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