The Tale of an Arizona Ranger Begins

Pat came around the corner and saw his father lying in a pool of blood. His father looked at the man walking away from him and said, “Take care of it, boy.”
     Pat stood up and said, “You yellow bellied coward. You just murdered an unarmed man.
Unfortunately for you he was my father, so you have to die. Turn around; I want you to see who is going to kill you.”
     The man turned and drew his gun in one motion without saying a word. He was fast. He was
as fast as anyone in those parts had ever seen, and he had all the advantages. The kid was surprised that he drew without saying a word. The kid was mad and had just lost his dad. And the stranger had drawn first.
     The spinning man never lifted his gun into a fi ring position. He just continued spinning as he
crumpled to the ground. Nobody had seen the kid draw, but there in Pat’s hand was the smoking gun.  They didn’t need to, but they rolled the stranger over and right between his eyes was a bright red hole.  Pat walked over to his father and said, “I got it done, Dad.” His father looked up at him and smiled.  He closed his eyes and passed away.
     The sheriff came running up and said, “Pat, what happened?”
     “I killed the man who killed my father,” replied Pat in a somewhat distant voice.