Dunn stumbled from behind the solitary stone in the scrubland when he heard the coach coming, and fell across the trail. Hollering, the driver reined the horses. They reared snorted and stomped their hooves inches from Dunn’s face.
“Hold on,” the guard said, dropping down from the stagecoach and cocking the hammer on his Winchester. He used the shotgun’s barrel to prod Dunn, and got no response.
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