Cole Decker The Sixgunner Van Holt by Van Holt B00KOA2WDO instant download after payment.

What some reviewers have to say about Van Holt’s writing:
“Step aside Louis L'Amour, another great Western writer is here…” --Heather
“I had a feeling that Van Holt…might actually be the successor to Zane Gray, a master Western storysmith, whose novels set the style of a generation.” --Stern0

“Van Holt is King of the Spaghetti Western…” --Rarebird1

THE SIX-GUNNER

The three seedy outlaws followed Decker’s trail through the rocky, cactus-spiked hills to a lone cottonwood on the rim of a steep-sided ravine. They found a note on the trunk of the cottonwood.
“You claim you can read a little, Lick,” Snot Wagner said to his brother. “See what it says.”
Lick Wagner rode close enough to reach the note from the saddle. He grinned as he read it. “It says, ‘Foller me, boys. I went thataway.’ There’s a arrow on it that was pointin’ straight toward that ravine before I got it down.”
Snot Wagner snorted as he wiped his nose. “He must think we’re stupid. He never went that way and we ain’t goin’ that way neither.”
A man on a dark horse appeared from nowhere, riding straight toward the mounted outlaws and firing his gun into the air. The wild-eyed outlaw horses swung toward the rim of the ravine and went straight down the steep side at a run. The horses somehow managed to keep from piling up on the rocks at the bottom and their riders somehow managed to stay in the saddle and got the horses stopped after a good deal of confusion and cussing.
Then they looked up and saw Cole Decker sitting his horse on the rim, casually reloading his gun.
“Son of a bitch!” Snot Wagner cried and clawed out his gun.