Shot in the Back by William W. Johnstone Page A

were a couple of dragonflies hovering about four feet over the edge of the opposite side of the creek.
    â€œSee those snake doctors?” Jesse asked, pointing.
    Billy laughed. “Don’t tell me you are going to try and shoot one of those.”
    â€œI’m not going to shoot one of them,” Jesse said.
    â€œI wouldn’t think so. You couldn’t, even if you did aim.”
    â€œI’m going to shoot both of them,” Jesse said.
    â€œWha—” Before Billy could get the word out, Jesse drew both pistols and fired. The two dragonflies disintegrated right before Billy’s eyes.
    â€œDamn!” Billy said. “How the hell did you do that?”
    â€œPoint your finger at me,” Jesse said.
    â€œWhy?” Billy replied, pointing his finger even as he asked the question.
    â€œHow did you do that ?” Jesse asked. “You didn’t raise your hand and aim your finger at me.”
    â€œNo, I didn’t have to. I just knew where you were and where my finger was pointing.”
    â€œThat’s how I shot the dragonflies.”
    Billy shook his head.
    â€œI’ll never be able to do that.”
    â€œSure you will,” Jesse said.
    â€œShoot snake doctors out of the air?”
    â€œMaybe not that. But before we go back to the hotel today, I’d be willing to bet that you can put more holes in that can, without aiming.”
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    â€œI never thought I’d be able to do that,” Billy said that evening over supper in the hotel dining room.
    Once again, Jesse was wearing a suit.
    â€œYou’re not very good at it yet,” Jesse said. “But I have no doubt that as I work with you, you will get better.”
    â€œYou know what really surprises me is that you can do that. I mean, I’ve never known you as anything but a . . . pardon me for sayin’ it, Pa, but sort of a milksop kind of a guy. I mean, well, you remember the time on the train when that man tripped over you. It was his fault, but you apologized to him.”
    â€œIt doesn’t hurt to be nice to someone,” Jesse said. “And it isn’t always good to let people know who you are.”
    â€œHa! You say that, but as soon as Jim Corbett said who he was, that man sure turned and ran away, didn’t he?”
    â€œI reckon he did.”
    â€œDidn’t you feel embarrassed by that, Pa?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œNot even a little bit?”
    â€œNo, not even a little bit. Did you feel embarrassed?”
    â€œYeah, I did.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWhy? Because you are my pa, and that man was having his way with you.”
    â€œHe just thought he was. Being embarrassed about something is just a waste of time.”
    â€œI don’t know. I guess I just thought you should have done something.”
    â€œBilly, if I had gotten into a fistfight with that man, I would have been beaten up.”
    â€œThere, you see what I mean? And you don’t think that would have been embarrassing?”
    â€œNo, because I would not have gotten into a fistfight with him.”
    â€œWhat if Jim Corbett hadn’t been there? And what if I hadn’t been there? What if it had been just the two of you, and being nice to him wouldn’t stop him? What would you have done then?”
    â€œI would have killed him,” Jesse said calmly.
    â€œWhat?” Billy’s eyes narrowed as he stared across the table at his father, as if seeing him for the first time. “Pa, are you serious? You really would have killed him?” he asked in a quiet voice.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHave . . . have you ever killed anyone before?”
    Jesse picked up the menu. “Look, they’ve got black- and blueberry cobbler. I know it isn’t as good as the cobbler your ma used to make. But I bet it’ll be good enough. What do you say we have that for dessert?”
    Billy nodded, knowing that Jesse wasn’t going to answer his