Regulator Robert...The Final Installment.

Writer's note: Sorry I've been keeping you in suspense...I was traveling. Now where were we...

The bullets piercing the air above and the frozen ground beneath kept bringing him back to reality...he was in a pickle and there was no escape. Any learning his mama ever gave him couldn't apply to this situation, he would have to get out of this one on his own.

He needed to get a better look at his attacker, so he peered over the berm of dirt. He couldn't make out numbers, but it looked like there was more than 2 hombres, and a horseless carriage, or a "car" as some people called them.

Just as he ducked back into the safety of the switch grass poking through the crusty snow another volley of projectiles whizzed overhead.

He yelled again...but the wind muffled his plea.

The shooting had stopped, and he knew they were out of bullets because he had been counting the shots. So he knew he had to take action now. His only way out was to ride right at them while they were reloading, and take them on bare-knuckle-style...he'd have to be fast, and that was Cookie's job.

He looked up at Cookie, that horse had been mighty good to him...he looked him square in the right eye and said, "Are you with me?"

Cookie snorted and stomped his foot as if to say, "TO THE DEATH!"

He stood up and was ready to throw a leg over for the ride of a lifetime....

Just then he heard a slam, then a motor fired up, and the car took off. The cowards were yellow-bellied sap suckers. Running away from the fight they started. Good for them...it saved their life from a cowboy that was set to defend his cattle, his horse, his land and his good name, to the death.

He kept a mental picture of the car, just in case he saw it parked at the local watering hole...he would remember this day forever. A lot of thinking was done in those 20 minutes of human peril.

On the ride back to the ranch he vowed to take better care of his family, to reach out to his preacher-boy son-in-law and ask him about the faith he proclaimed. He would take interest in his sissy-boy son's writings...he would hold that woman of his a little bit longer in the morning, he would start packing his .45 on days in the saddle, and he would become the fastest gun in Central Beadle County...things that matter in this world, things you can hold on to

It became clear to him that day, that his whole life was a preparation for that moment...those bullets flying over his head...after all when he was 8 and digging on a pile of dirt at their homestead, it was his daddy that said, "Leave that pile of dirt alone son, you never know when you'll need a pile of dirt in front of your house."

Funny, a pile of dirt saved his life.

(For the most part this is what happened, I know you are a bit dissappointed with the ending, well in real life I was too...dad didn't even call the cops. If someone shoots at me, you better believe I'm calling the cops, and my dad.)

The End.