John spurred his horse vigorously, racing as fast as the animal would go. He was pushing it as hard as he could. The animal, huffing, with strings of foamy spittle trailing from its mouth, was nearing exertion.

"Damn it!" He said aloud. "Damn, damn, damn." His heart was racing. His head was spinning. The heist did not go as planned....

It started out like it was supposed to. John had waited behind a little hill beside his horse. As the carriage got close he mounted and galloped toward them. That was when things went south. Mathias had been wrong, there was three guards on horseback, all armed with rifles and side arms. John hesitated slightly but all the men had turned to face him, the guards changing to an intersect course. Then he saw Mathias coming up on foot behind the carriage. Suddenly the guards noticed the weapon John was carrying and raised theirs. John swung his rifle up with a quickness bred of practice. Mathias had reached the wagon and climbed up and into the side door, none of the party noticed him, and seconds later jumped out laden with heavy canvas bags.

The armed guards where yelling for John to lower his rifle. Things were accelerating quickly. Then with an abruptness that astounded John, a shot was fired, grazing his left arm. He fired without thinking. A guard fell from his mount, dead.

John Murphy sr. had just killed a man. He didn't dwell though, his self preservation instinct kicked in and he glanced quickly toward the spot he last saw his partner. He was gone.

Next he reverted his attention back to the guards, only a half second diversion, but it was enough. He saw a flash from the guards rifle, ducked low on his mount. He heard the bullet wiz past. He raised his gun to his cheek, the guard cocked the lever to load the next round. John didn't give him a chance to fire. With a sharp report, the other man fell silently from his horse, dead before he hit the ground. John spurred his horse and was gone.