Ben cocked the two barrels of the Parker 10-gauge. "Wouldn't do that if I was you. Unless you want me to blow you in half."

He stopped and studied Ben's face for a moment, looking for that revealing mote of darkness that only men who have killed other men have in their eyes. He must have seen it because he sat back down with the look of a man who had come face-to-face with a man killer.

"Goddamn that Bledsoe… look what he's got us into," said the smaller man.

"Shut up," his partner said. Then, looking at Ben, he said, "Is this your place?"

"Not mine," Ben said. Then he nodded toward me. "His."

The man with the goatee looked me over. "Ain't you a might young to be runnin...

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