Free Sunday's Colt & Other Stories by Randy D. Smith

Driscoll, and a couple of Slash Nine wranglers. Everyone knows that it takes six to work out a solid poker game, so Four-Bit was looking for another man when Arny Hernandez happened by. After some persuasion, Arny joined in the game, “for a hand or two, but no more,” he said.
    Now, lo and behold, they played four hands of poker and Arny won three. Arny could see that Blu wasn’t taking it too well so he begged out of a fifth. That didn’t sit well with Blu either. There were some words but the others agreed that Arny had said from the get-go that he was in for only a few hands and he could rightly walk away without a grudge being held. Blu backed down but it was just one more bit of salt rubbed in a festering wound.
    The next morning the outfit gathered round the tailgate for biscuits, back fat, and coffee. Arny was walking away with his vittles when Blu sort of nudged up against him and sent his grub a-flying into the dirt. Arny didn’t say a word but turned back to the line for another helping.
    â€œI guess Hernandez gets double shares this morning,” Blu blustered. “But that’s what I guess should be expected from a pepper.”
    Now, everyone there knew what was afoot and the place got as quiet as a graveyard. No one knew for certain how Arny would take the comment. Blu was hankering for a fight and it was up to Arny as to whether he’d oblige him or not. Blu had thirty pounds on him and Arny didn’t carry a gun. Still, when a man is getting dogged his pride will tend to even the odds. Arny may have got whipped but a bully like Blu would usually never have the gumption to try a second time. At least that’s the way most figure it.
    Candle Corn took the lead. It was his fire and his right. “There’s plenty,” he said as he shoved a slice on a biscuit and held his paw out for Arny’s cup.
    That should have settled the matter but Blu was on the prod. He shook his head and leaned up against the wagon wheel as Candle filled the cup and returned it to Arny. “I shoulda guessed the likes of you’d stick together,” he snarled. “Peppers and niggers. Hell, he can have mine to boot.” He threw the biscuit on the tailgate and pitched his dregs into the fire as he stomped to his pony.
    Ty Lee and Red River were closest to Candle. They could see the fire build in Candle’s eyes and knew that his temper was a-rising.
    â€œI wouldn’t pay too much mind,” Red River grinned. “Sometimes, early in the morning, a gent has to get the meanness out of his system. Old Blu never did let looking the fool interfere with his glory.”
    â€œAmen,” Ty Lee nodded.
    Candle gave it some thought, nodded, and went back to dealing out the biscuits. But he didn’t smile and he didn’t look up as the others got their feed. Old Blu was trying to pick a fight with Arny and almost got more than he bargained for his trouble. Old Candle was every bit as big as Blu and a hell of a lot meaner when it came to scrapping. Blu may have lived but he’d a-damn sure been missing body parts afore the fracas was over.
    â€œHow about another hand of poker tonight?” Red River asked as he and Ty Lee mounted their ponies.
    â€œI don’t think I’ll join ya, pard,” Ty Lee shrugged. “The fun’s gone plum out of it.”
    â€œYou can say that again. Old Blu is hell bent for trouble, that’s for sure.”
    â€œYeah, well, we got shovels in the wagon and there’s plenty of clay to bury him in,” Ty Lee said has he turned his pony for the herd. “Old Arny don’t look like much but I’m betting he’s leather tough and snake mean when he gets riled. The quiet ones are always that way, don’t you know.”
    â€œKind of reminds me of another gent I know,” Red River said with a grin. Then quieter to himself, “I think you just wrote your own epitaph, partner.”
    Well, that day