Man with No Name- Against Three Gunmen

  Tuco and his visitors whirled. A stranger to Tuco was framed in a narrow gap between rocks. He stood tall—inches above six feet—lean and hungry. A line of pale blond hair showed above the weathered bronze of his face. A stubby Mexican cigarro jutted from a corner of his wide, unsmiling mouth. His face was without expression. Except for narrowed, glittering eyes, there was nothing sinister in his appearance but Tuco felt a sudden coldness brush his spine.

  The tall man jerked his head at Tuco.

  “Step back a little, ugly one, out of line of fire.”

  Tuco gulped and scrambled back to stand beside his horse. The scar-faced gunman cleared his throat noisily.

  “I don’t know who you are, mister, but it’s plain you ain’t too bright in the head. Nobody in his right mind would butt into our private business the way you just done.”

  “If I bother you,” the tall man said pleasantly, “butt me out.”

  Everything happened so fast that Tuco was never afterward certain of the sequence. The three gunmen were no amateurs at their trade. Their hands slapped down in practised unison. The tall stranger’s gun simply appeared in his hand, pressed tight against his hip and spewing sound, smoke and bullets. After the first shot the heel of his left hand fanned the hammer, getting off two more shots so close together that the sound was continuous and single.

  Only one of the trio managed to get his own iron clear of its leather before he died.

- The Good, the Bad and the Ugly novel, chapter 3