SUDDEN GOLD SEEKER
The gunman slouched against the bar, two guns hanging on his hips, the holsters tied. Tense moments ticked by, then he straightened up and raised his glass Here's to yeller. . . he barked Yeller liquor, yeller metal, yeller-hoe gals and to hell with green. The words struck the room to silence, which was broken shortly by the scrape of a chair. Then a man spoke, My name is Green, Sudden said mildly. You wouldn't know, of course. Shore I knew it, and I'm saying' it again to hell with green. And his hands flashed towards his guns like outspread talons.