Man with No Name- Campfire Kills

The hunter eyed him steadily. “Who said I was joking?”

The outlaw blinked, his jaw going slack. Then comprehension knifed through the daze. He cried thickly, “By God, then it’s true,” and snatched at his gun.

The tin cup clattered on the rocks. The noise, and Blackie’s yell, awoke the others. They were scrambling up, reaching for their own weapons, when the hunter’s gun blasted. The heel of his left hand fanned the hammer so swiftly that the three shots sounded almost as one, the echoes racketing against the mountain.

The Man With No Name reloaded and holstered his pistol before dragging the three bodies to a concealing niche between the rocks.

- For a Few Dollars More, chapter 11