Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Now Playing: The Songbird of the West
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Episode Eight concluded with:
An exchange of shots came from within the house as the two men circled around to the back. The back of the house had one window. As Streeter had indicated, the window was large. The curtains were open and the glass shattered. Dehner peered inside while Curt Weldon checked the other side of the house.
After a few moments, the deputy returned, crouching near the window. “What do you see?”
The detective took another quick look, then flattened himself against the house before answering. “The only light comes from a lamp on a table by the front window. There are two bodies on the floor. Neither of them is Streeter. There’s a bureau pulled out from the wall near the front door, with a gunman behind it. Streeter is in the kitchen. He wants to cross the floor to get to what is probably the bedroom. In all likelihood, that is where Carrie Whiting is being held. The jasper behind the bureau is preventing that. Neither man has been able to take down the other. They are both trapped where they are.”
Weldon nodded his head. “The window on the other side of the house is boarded up. That’s where they have the girl, all right.”
Dehner stepped away from the back window. “I’m going around and enter the house by the front door. Pay a surprise visit on our friend behind the bureau.”
“Why? One of us could smoke him from here.”
Another volley of shots sounded from inside the house. Dehner wondered how much ammo each man had left. “I want to take at least one man alive. That owlhoot I tied up is hanging by a thread. He could be dead now.”
“What’s the big deal about takin’ a prisoner? These jaspers are real snakes.”
“Yeah,” Dehner agreed. “But they’re hired guns. Carrie Whiting won’t be safe until we find out who hired them.”
The two men exchanged nods as Curt Weldon took a position by the window and Dehner scooted around to the front of the house. As he carefully stepped onto the front porch the detective realized he had to keep low. When Tal Streeter saw a man coming through the door, he would naturally assume it was one of the outlaws.
Gun in hand, the detective crouched down on the porch and opened the front door. He was now only a few feet from a bald headed outlaw whose entire body pivoted quickly to greet the newcomer.
“Drop the gun.” Dehner ordered.
“I was about to say the same thing to you, stranger.” The gunman pointed his six shooter directly at Dehner. “I guess we got us what they call a stand off.”
Tomorrow: Episode Ten of the Songbird of the West