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As we rode into town, looking all around, we met up with Yancy.
Greeting him with a handshake I said, "That bank don't look so fancy."
"This is the man I was telling you about." I turned and said to Ike.
"The one hiding the horse there, we call just Big Mike."
Introduced him to the others as we rode to the saloon for a bite.
Been on the trail now on a week, I'm sure we was a pitiful site.
Just inside the door by the window to the right, was our table of choice.
We sat and stared across at the bank, not hearing the bartender's voice.
We jerked to see the barkeep there, with his apron in hand.
A large man, no sleeves in his shirt, on his forearms was a brand.
He stood there with a half gray beard, on his huge round face.
A deep rough voice said, "What da ya have? I'm Sam. I own this place."
"Don't try it." Sam went on to say, "I see where you had your eyes."
"A graveyard south of town, just for those that tries."
"Six graves there on a ten-acre plot, room for plenty more."
"No stones, no service, you see for those, the town folk just ignore."
With a half smirk Sam listened to our orders, not even writing them down.
As he turned he said, "I can see we'll be planting you boys six feet in the ground."
I looked away to the girls on the floor, man they looked so fine.
Trying to ignore Sam's look, his voice, and this chill running in my spine.
Billy and Tyrell; the youngest two, was off with the girls to flirt.
Buel and me; our first beer, ran past our mouths to our shirt.
As we ate, Yancy told us he had our rooms over at the hotel.
Before tonight we could catch a nap, maybe knock off some of the smell.
My mind digesting the job ahead, no nap could I get.
My nerves crawled like worms, 'cause of Sam's words I'll bet.
The brand on Sam's forearms, I'd seen before, but I just couldn't remember where.
Ike recalled, a west Texas ranch that worked ex-cons, did that so folks knew they was there.
The church bell rang ten, I rubbed my chin, looked over at Ike with a grin.
We went down to the street to meet the others, for it was time to begin.
We spoke not a word at the livery, as we saddled our horses and checked our guns.
"Pay Sam no never mind." Buel finally said. "Loose your share for those that decides and runs."
Midnight came way too fast, for that was the time we had sat.
We figured that safe was full of dust, and we knew just where it was at.
I looked out from the livery, not a soul, a dim light burned at Sam's place.
My spine still chilled by his voice and that smirk he wore on his face.
The street was silent, moved not the air, as we walked towards the bank.
Tyrell stayed back with the horses, and guarded our south flank.
We stood there in front of the bank, glanced at each other, then looked all around.
If not for that dim light burning at Sam's, the place was like a ghost town.
Big Mike was our door key; he walked up and gave her a yank.
Like mice we scurried inside, tension grew as we stood there inside the bank.
Once inside, I looked to notice, the bank had no back door.
I whispered to Yancy, "That's one detail, you should not ignore."
Across the room in the corner sat the safe, trimmed in gold, but mostly black.
It cast an eerie shadow on the wall, over towards the back.
Billy went to work setting the charge, for he was our powder man.
Big Mike stood to his right, offering a helping hand.
Billy and Mike looked over at Ike and asked, "What do you figure our chances?"
Me and Buel at the windows on stools, towards the street was our glances.
I jumped to my feet and looked to the south, there was no sign of Tyrell.
"Dad-gummit! Where did he go? I never figured him for one to turn tail."
That dim light at Sam's, seemed to be burning awful bright.
The six reigns in Tyrell's hand, was gone out into the night.
Big Mike looked over at Yancy and grinned saying, "You're whole town will hear our presence."
Billy stepped back, ran into Mike as he said, "We have about five seconds."
The fuse was shorter than Billy thought, it only burned for two.
He couldn't move back, 'cause of Mike, right in his face it blew.
A shot rang out, shattering the glass, and into the bank it came.
A 45-slug gut shot Big Mike, it was hard to miss his large frame.
Me and Buel leaped off the stools, and hit the floor with a thud.
Scurried behind the counter with the others, lying in Big Mike's blood.
We half laid behind the counter of the Miners National Bank.
I said, "Lets not get in no hurry boys, lets just lie here and thank."
His face burned black, his hair still smoking, Buel's kid brother Bill.
We hadn't heard Big Mike tell him, "That's too much, yourself and us you'll kill."
Sitting on the floor next to Mike, the blast had robbed Billy's sight.
He would be of no use to us now, for him, day would be like night.
At least one gun, maybe more, waiting, watching, from outside the bank.
Yancy cried out, "No back door!" they thought their leg he tried to yank.
I looked at Yancy crouched in the corner, all balled up on the floor.
I asked him, " What kind of bank president, builds without a back door?"
Across the room sat the safe, with the door blowed half open.
Halfway was Big Mike; his blood ran the way the floor was slopping.
Inside the safe you could see bags of dust, and a large stack of cash.
Yancy cried again, "If they start a fire, we'll all be burned to ash!"
I said, "Seems like it came from over there; above that sign marked General Store."
Ike said, "That's what's bad 'bout them ricochets, you just can't tell for sure."
Yancy sniveled, "Should we go for the money, or should we go for the kill?"
Billy with his dark blank stare answered, "I'll do what ever you boys will."
Big Mike was Buel's older brother, his youngest brother was Bill.
Buel was over in the corner, he sat deathly still.
Ike looked over at Billy, then glanced back towards the others.
"I say go for the money," he said. "But they're both Buel's brothers."
Yancy glanced at Ike, Ike studies Buel, and I asked, "Wonder what happened to Tyrell?"
Shaking his head, Ike said, "Either way boys, getting out of here is gonna be a pure living hell."
Buel's mad red eyes were fixed, back and forth he started to rock.
His knuckles white against his Winchester, he looked deep in shock.
Buel mumbles, "Billy blinded by that powder blast, Big Mike has been shot."
A deep rough voice from outside yells out, "You boys give up or what?"
Ike raised to the counters edge, for we all knew we had heard that voice before.
Ike whispers, "It's that barkeep, across the street, standing in his door."
Buel stopped rocking, he looked up with a tear on his chin.
"We'll go for both!" he said, with a half sinister grin.
Not sure what our plan was, we knew we had to make a break for and run.
Not saying a word, we exchanged a glance, and checked the load of our gun.
The back wall of the bank blew out; it was a blast from hell.
When the paper, dust, and wood stopped flying, there on a horse sat Tyrell.
A big 'ole smile came to my face, for I knew I hadn't mis-judged him.
My kid brother was a lot of thangs, but a coward just wasn't one of them.
Buel stood up, walked to the door, his Winchester blurted one big clap.
Sam hit the boardwalk, that jagged hole in his gut, making the sound of a slap.
Ike and Me loaded the dust, Yancy grabbed the cash.
Tyrell helped Billy to his mount, Buel tied Mike on with a sash.
We passed the graveyard headed south, riding like hell with thunder.
Fired our guns in the air, with a hoop and a howler, for we aren't six feet under.
We rode hard for hours towards the valley, and just before daybreak.
We stopped by the river, beat and tired, the horses had all they could take.
We split the spoils, separated it out, counting it off six ways.
We all shook hands, said our good-byes, riding off our separate ways.
The stories turned into legends, the legends turned into fame.
Each time it's told it's different, the facts are never the same.
A ten-acre plot south of town, a new bank was built with stone.
One legend has it, those six graves are were the robbers had gone.
I sit on this rim rock looking at what I own, as far as the eye can see.
The Miners National Bank made me a prominent citizen, out here in Tennessee.
Copyright ©2003 "Ish". All rights reserved.
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