TwentyMorris spoke through his teeth, trying his utmost not to appear nervous despite his insides rolling around like a small boat tossed in a hurricane. “Jasper, you just keep nice and still. You have that carbine close at hand.”
“I do,” said Jasper, using one hand to lean upon the sideboard whilst his other held the barrel of the carbine.
“Any sign of trouble, you shoot the big fella in the middle, the one with the red coat. I reckon he's the leader.”
“They look mean,” whispered Millie as she poked her head from out of the wagon interior.
“Hush now,” said her mother, “go back inside and don't make a sound.”
Morris chewed noisily on a plug of tobacco. “Your youngens inside your wagon, Jasper?”
“Uh huh. Constance has my Colt with her. She'll die before she lets these heathens get any
