"Evans, Tabor - Longarm 223 - Longarm and the Double-Barrel Blowout" - читать интересную книгу автора (Evans Tabor)Clint Adams was a legend among lawmen, outlaws, and ladies. They
called him ... the Gunsmith. LONGARM by Tabor Evans The popular long-running series about U.S. Deputy Marshal Long--his life, his loves, his fight for justice. SLOCUM by Jake Logan Today's longest-running action Western. John Slocum rides a deadly trail of hot blood and cold steel. BUSHWHACKERS by B. J. Lanagan An all-new series by the creators of Longarm! The rousing adventures of the most brutal gang of cutthroats ever assembled--Quantrill's Raiders. Chapter 1 When the small and very rumpled package landed on his littered desk, United States Deputy Marshal Custis Long paid it no attention as he struggled to complete some detested federal paperwork. By four o'clock, however, Custis had finally cleared his desk enough to rediscover the messy brown package. It caught his attention among a number of other unopened packages precisely because it was battered and disreputable looking. a postmark but it had been partially smudged. As best he could tell, the brown, string-tied package had been mailed from somewhere in Arizona. Whoever had addressed it was damn lucky because the package was inadequately addressed to LONGARM, U.S. GOVNMINT, DENVIR, COLORADOE. No department. No street address. "Watch out for that one," a passing federal worker remarked. "Looks like it could hold a rattlesnake or some Indian curse." Longarm shook his head and massaged the package. "Nope. Nothing moving. Nothing to worry about." The man chuckled. "Then it might be some poison from one of your frontier women who discovered that you have a girlfriend in every town between St. Louis and San Francisco." "Oh, bullshit." It was obvious that Marshal Slim Behan was at loose ends with nothing of his own to do. The man was bored and loitering beside Custis's desk waiting for him to open the package. "Haven't you got something of your own to do?" Longarm finally asked. Slim sauntered over to his own desk, yelling back over his shoulder, |
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