LITMIR.BIZ

      The large boulders formed a narrow path as the lone rider struggled down the rocky knoll. Glimpses of a sparkling stream flashed ahead as he wove his way through the dark passageway. Soon a sandy basin was in sight. The trail broke open as the traveler spurred his steed forward into the flowing river, swollen by a morning rain. The mare whinnied and pranced nervously in the water, then calmed and began to drink. The rider dropped off, crouched down and began to sip water from cupped hands.

      “Freeze!” A voice shot out from the jagged rocks near the water’s edge.

      Startled by the loud voice, the man froze. The water slowly drained through his thick fingers.

      “Now put ’em up, mister, nice and easy. Any quick moves, and you’re a dead man!”

      The wary journeyman stood slowly, arms raised.

      “Now move away from that rifle, pronto!”

      The man glanced to the right at his Winchester in the saddle holster, tempted to go for it.

      Suddenly, another voice shouted from the far side. “You heard ’im! Get movin’!”

      Reluctantly, the traveler moved sideways in the stream, away from his horse and rifle. His eyes darted left and right trying desperately to get a look at his tormentors. “I don’t want any trouble, fellas—just passin’ through,” he shouted. His mind was racing. Alone and vulnerable, he wanted to get these cowards before they got him.

      Without warning, the robber to his left dropped down out of the rocks and bolted toward the stream. The water flew as he stomped through the shallow rivulet to the horse, yanked the saddlebag open and dug inside.

      The traveler watched from the corner of his eye. “Nothin’ in there, mister. You’re wasting your time.”

      “Shut him up!” the thief shouted to his cohort.

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