Snippet #902499

Frank closed up the pack and slung it over his shoulder. She was a nice girl; she looked kinda like her dad when he had hair.

"Nothing really; I've been kept Well, anything I want gun-wise has to be special-ordered by Jim, since he's the only feller in town who has a permit to sell 'em. But, just between you and me," He leaned towards her, very secretive. "I've put some money into some experimental British revolvers. They're break-top, like the Schofield, but you don't have to pull the hammer back with your thumb every time you want to fire; it does it by itself when you pull the trigger. There's also some guys working on a shotgun that's tube-fed, like repeater rifles. The future of the gun market is looking good, my dear."

He took a deep breath and tugged upward on his own gun belt, readjusting its position on his hip.

"And, of course, they're making cartridge conversions for the old blackpowders we used in the war. Even my old LeMats use brass now, even the shotgun barrel, but to be fair, my buddy in the Second Colorado made it for me. Sergeant James is somewhere in Denver now, pulling wagons last time I saw him."

He scratched his beard and rubbed his face somewhat violently before he continued.

"Anyway, nothing new on my farm for the most part. You still carrying around them Peacemakers?"