Short Story Collections
Shades of Night; Collected Short Stories: 1996-1999
Oak of Ropes
Chapter 1 Page 10
Relenting, feeling the bite of the wind for the first time over his outrage, Beau straightened his spine and sniffled, "Alright. I'll make it quick. Git that scum on his feet. Gunther, you toss the rope like you said, and tie that knot tight. We won't want to do this twice." When Point was standing, hunched over his abused guts, Beau asked, "What's your name, filth?"
The cowboy gasped, "William Morgan, out of Sweetwater, Texas. Most people just call me Point. But you fellahs is makin' a big mistake here. I ain't no murderin' thief! I didn't kill no-"
"Shut up! It ain't your turn to talk! First the state says why you're guilty. I'll start. You there, Eldon, did you see any Indian sign on the way back from town?"
"Nope. None at all."
"Heard tell of the Osage in these parts lately?"
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