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By Zach Neal

Mike Baxter is plodding along on the old grey, Millie. A mysterious box sitting beside the rail-road tracks, much like the kind dynamite comes in, seriously complicates his life. Without tools, and unable to open it, his mental juices start to flow. There’s only one thing that could be that heavy: gold. A short story in the western tradition.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zach Neal
• Release date: Feb 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781927957127

Zach Neal

Zach Neal has been writing ever since he can remember. A forestry management professional, he prefers the outdoors to the office. He lives in the Halton Hills overlooking the Greater Toronto Area. He studied at the University of Toronto. Zach’s a single father of two healthy and energetic children. Zach’s boys, Aaron and Jason, mean everything to him.

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Zach Neal

This Smashwords edition copyright 2014 Zach Neal and Long Cool One Books

Design: J. Thornton

ISBN 978-1-927957-12-7

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or deceased, or to any places or events, is purely coincidental. Names, places, settings, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. The author’s moral rights to the proceeds of this work have been asserted.

Table of Contents

Plodding Along on the Old Grey

Two Minutes to One

Finally She Spilled It

So What Happened?

About the Author

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Zach Neal

Plodding Along on the Old Grey

Mike Baxter plodded along on the old grey.

The spur line he followed and its accompanying line of telegraph poles cut across the barren and sparsely populated dry lands, and then, up and over the line of grey-green mountains to the west.

On the other side of those mountains lay a town, and in that town was, in no particular order, a saloon, a bed, a bath, a barber, and at this point he would be glad to see it.

Buzzards soared overhead, drifting on the wind and not looking too interested.

Millie, not over-burdened by the load of man, rifle and blanket, six-gun, canteen and Stetson, and not much else but what he stood up in, had her head up and was stepping fine.

His boots were all right and that was important, and the six-gun had been fired a time or two and surely would snap again when called.

That was all that really mattered some days. It was all a man really had to worry about, some days. Sure was hot. The thought didn’t even bring a smile anymore. It was hot as hell—hotter, some said. It was still early in the morning.

They might be in for a long day, but there was good water ahead,