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Palm trees, high and swaying in the breeze lined the house’s perimeter and dotted the backyard, and he watched, dazzled, as a coconut fell to the ground and bounced into the pool. Her mother sat in the shade of one of the avocado trees, her tanned legs stretched out for miles. She was watching him, measuring his every move behind opaque walls of glass perched on her nose. She watched as her daughter let go his hand and dashed to her side, and he walked up to this woman as she took her sunglasses off. Of course he recognized her. There wasn’t a man in the world who dared not, and he was sure she approved of his reaction, of the surprise and approval she saw on his face. Introductions were made, smiles and knowing glances passed between them. He remembered looking at her eyes as he said something inanely banal, and he’d watched that smile again, the same lips he’d admired on the silver screen. She smiled again at an awkward complement — his unease clear to see, yet the woman was. The intruder complied, taking care to place his gun on the ground and stand up, his hands raised over his head.“Don’t shoot, Mister,” the grubby soul pleaded. “I didn’t mean no harm. I thought someone abandoned these here tents.”“Do me a favor,” Clint drawled. “Move your sorry ass over to that other corner and sit quiet like.”“Yes, Sir. I will.”Clint took the man’s pistol and studied it. It was a .32-40 Colt that had seen much better days. Clint even wondered if it would fire. He still flipped the loading cover open and extracted all the shells. Even they looked old, and neither man doubted that they would misfire 3 times out of 5. At least the fellow had sense enough to keep that one cylinder empty for safe carrying.Clint tossed the revolver onto a sack nearby and holstered his own weapon. “Look and learn.” Clint said guessing what the guy was thinking.He showed his skill as he drew the shiny silver-plated Colt and returned it before the dude could blink twice.The man watched the.
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