The underling, whoever Jake was, turned his mount back in the direction of St Louis and galloped away, leaving a cloud of dust hanging thick and heavy in the cool night air along the darkened roadway. From the center-pocket ofhis overalls the Boss, the man called Lucifer, pulled a tobacco pouch and stuffed his pipe full. Just as the bess-man began to turn his horse about, he lit a match and I caught a glimpse ofhis features and cringed inwardly, for his face was slanted in a God-awful fashion and his eyes appeared to be slanted at near the same angle, with one sunken and one protruding as if his face had been split open and pieced back together unsuccessfully, revealing the meanest looking black man I ever did see. His match died out then and Jenny moved in her sleep. I cupped my hand over her mouth to shush her because far as I could tell, Lucifer was the Devil himself.
""Shhhhhbh,"" I whispered to Jenny.
About John T. Wayne
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Published December 13, 2012
Westerns, Literature & Fiction.