As the stagecoach gently rumbled through the soft dirt, I cradled my sawed-off scattergun, ready for trouble. A shot suddenly rang out from behind the coach. “Outlaws!” the driver shouted, as I turned rearward to face the coming riders. A half-dozen bad hombres were rapidly galloping after us, firing their six-guns wildly. I quickly raised the shotgun to my shoulder, took aim at the bunched up riders and fired a 12-gauge blast, tumbling one man out of the saddle. Sound like somethi
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