“Howdy. Have room for one more by that fire?”
“Sit yourself down, Stranger. Coffee’s over there–help yourself.”
“Much obliged. I gather I’m in Texas.”
“That you are. You walkin’? Didn’t hear no horse.”
“He’s real quiet”. The Stranger whistled and a Paint walked out of the darkness.
“Nice horse, Stranger. I wouldn’t mind you giving him to me.”
“Now why would I want to do that?”
“My boys have their six guns on you.”
The Stranger sipped his coffee, and between swallows, drew his gun, and shot all three–never spilling his coffee.
“Seems Texas needs a better class of people.”