Bullock reached for his gun. Tex's Colt .45 cleared leather first — a single shot sent the sheriff's pistol spinning. The others froze when Kit's rifle clicked from the bell tower.
"Two more days," Bullock said, "and we declare the road haunted. Then the railroad buys the ghost route from the territory — cheap. And we get paid."
As he tied the last prisoner, Tex looked up at the stars. "Superstition's a weapon, Kit. So is greed. But the truth? That's a faster draw than either." Tex Willer Pdf
Tex knelt. A red candle stub. Then he spotted it — a feathered headdress painted on a rock, but the feathers were inverted. "Not Apache. Not Navajo. Someone's playing pretend."
"The cellar," Tex said, "or the cemetery. Your choice." Bullock reached for his gun
Here’s an original Tex Willer style tale: The Ghost of Mesa Roja
Tex stepped from the shadows. "Evening, Sheriff. Ghosts don't usually carry Winchester '73s." "Two more days," Bullock said, "and we declare
They chose the cellar. Inside, Tex found sacks of stolen army payroll, a theatrical ghost costume made of bedsheets and phosphorous paint — and the real killers of five men.