The wind blew across the dusky landscape. It was midday but there was no sun. The sky was covered in heavy clouds. Two figures stood alone. From a quick glance they were just specks, brown and black. Up close they were different. The first was about average height and of a round stature. He sported a well a meticulously groomed mustache. His eyes were a piercing ice blue. Over his greased blonde hair he wore a black hat. His clothing was expensive, a black three-piece suit with silver buttons. He wore black down to his boots. No spurs only the polished leather of the boot. Slung on his hip was a black leather gun belt, its surface covered in an elaborate design. In the holster was a Cooper double action revolver. A Silver snake shining on the pearl handle.
The other man was so much different. He was tall, easily over six foot, and muscular. The brim of his brown hat pulled low. A dirty white shirt was visible. Over that was a long brown duster. Its hem at the mans ankles. Khaki pants were pulled over a pair of rough brown boots. On his waist was a brown belt inlaid with images of flowers. A holster of antique design was slung at his hip. Inside was a polished Colt 1860.
"
Well, it seems I have finally caught up to you. The man who stopped my men at the Clarke Bank and the mayors house. I have come to deal with you myself." the man in blacks voice was laced with anger. His hand only inches away from his revolver. The man in brown did nothing. "Answer me dammit!"
"I know who you are... a murderer and thief. You kill for money and glory. I stopped you and I would do it again." his head raised. A clean shaven face and an unnaturally dark set of eyes became visible. "Do you want to settle this like men or are you going to just kill me?"
No response was given verbally but an arrogant grin was on the man in blacks face, he tossed his coat to the ground sending up a puff of dust. "1..." His smile faded. "2..." The man in brown looked at him with pity. "3..."
"Draw" the word had left his lips and as suddenly a loud bang was heard. The gangster looked down at his chest. A whole the size of a quarter was drilled right through his breast pocket. He fell over, the pistol still in his holster.
"I warned you..." the man in brown walked forward. His duster flowing back in the wind. His Colt was back in the holster.
"How...who?" said the dying man. He clutched his breast and stared at his adversary. The man in brown gave no response. For two minutes they stared at each other until the wounded died.
"My name... I don't have one. I can say this, your type better keep clear of me because I will kill every last one." He walked away to his horse in the distance. Pulling himself up into the saddle he gave one final salute to his dead enemy. "Hee-yah!"
He spurred his horse onward. Riding hard to the east, a stream of dust behind him. A small twinkle of silver had flashed before he started to ride. above his heart, right on the beaten shirt. If closer it would have appeared to be a star with an eagle behind. Even closer and you could have read the words.
United States Marshall.