Man with No Name- Behind Kirp

“We made it,” Kirp panted, “much to my surprise.”

He leaned on the windless, catching his breath, then drew his gun and snapped out the cylinder. He was in the act of replacing the spent shell when the bounty hunter’s hand flashed under the poncho and out, his forty-four blazing. Kirp felt the wind of the slug that whipped past his cheek and started a strangled yell that broke off at the sound of a metallic clatter behind him.

Spinning around, he was in time to see the unhorsed bandit pitch forward off his knees, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead. He crashed down onto the pistol that had slipped from his dead hand, causing the clatter Kirp heard. The insurance agent pursed his lips in a soundless whistle.

“I hate to say it, friend, but that was quite an exhibition of gun-play. I can see that if it becomes necessary to eliminate you from competition, I’d better do it from behind.”

- Blood for a Dirty Dollar, chapter 22