"Harlan Ellison - The End of the Time of Leinard" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ellison Harlan)file:///J|/sci-fi/Nieuwe%20map/Harlan%20Ellison%20-%20The%20End%20of%20the%20Time%20of%20Leinard.htm
The End of the Time of Leinard by Harlan Ellison Fictionwise Publications This ebook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authorтАЩs imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Copyright ┬й1958 Harlan Ellison. Renewed, copyright ┬й 1986 HarlanEllison. All rights reserved. Sheriff Frank Leinard felt the creeping cold of the graveтАФhis or the old man'sтАФriming his body. Every inch of his skin; but not the flesh of his right hand. He stood ready, right hand warm and loose, poised in limbo above the gun. His belly was drawn in tightly, his legs well- planted, body half-turned to present the narrowest target. тАЬI don't want to draw on you, Gus ... don't make me,тАЭ he said softly. The breeze coming in from the west end of town ruffled his lank brown hair. The breeze whispered of holy rain for which the town had hoped, and it bore the metallic scent of the barranca, miles away. The breeze also stirred the shirttail hanging from Gus Tabbert's pants. The flap of cotton shirting over the old man's file:///J|/sci-fi/Nieuwe%20map/Harlan%20Ellison%20-%20The%20End%20of%20the%20Time%20of%20Leinard.htm (1 of 11)16-2-2006 15:24:42 file:///J|/sci-fi/Nieuwe%20map/Harlan%20Ellison%20-%20The%20End%20of%20the%20Time%20of%20Leinard.htm holster. Tabbert swayed. It was obvious he was drunk. тАЬтАЩN I ain't gonna make ya draw, Sher'f. But you ain't gonna take me t'no jail, neither...тАЭ The Sheriff's hard, square face grew even tighter. тАЬWe don't like drunks that make noise and shoot up the Palace, Gus. You know that. Now just settle back and don't make me draw on you.тАЭ There was a staggering movement from Tabbert, and he fumbled awkwardly past the shirttail, trying to get his fingers around the old, heavy Colt Walker. Frank Leinard's right hand became invisible for an instant, and reappeared with the big Colt Army .44 free of the holster; and the August peace of the town was shattered by two sharp, quick reports, like a bull-whip snick-snickering. |
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