#gunfight at black horse canyon

[hellyeahgeorgekennedy]

George Kennedy in Gunfight At Black Horse Canyon (1961)

[vintage-every-day]

Dale Robertson in ''Gunfight at Black Horse Canyon'', (TV Movie 1961).

[skepticbeliever-bookclub]

Hello, once again!

In case you missed the memo, last June, we banded together with a few of our members and wrote them a challenge that states:

Pick a movie; any movie. It could be your favourite or one you think deserves better. Doesn’t have to be Hollywood; it can be an international film or in a different language altogether. Just pick one and make it Shyan. Basically, take your chosen movie, mix in fandom and run with it!

You can stick as close or as far as you like, you can use it as a sort of prompt, or if you decide that you love the storyline but you think it needs more queer drama or more comedy, or a side-story needs more flushing out. You are free to use the movie as you see fit.

Well, now we’re all about to reap the prolific results! Over the course of the next few months, we will be periodically releasing a “trailer” to let you know what film fic is about to come your way.

A list of films we have in the works include such titles as Notting Hill, Call Me By Your Name, While You Were Sleeping, The Brothers Bloom, and a few more!

Second of the season is

3:10 to Yuma (2007)

Film Synopsis: A small-time rancher agrees to hold a captured outlaw who's awaiting a train to go to court in Yuma. A battle of wills ensues as the outlaw tries to psych out the ranch

Title: Psalms 17:2-5

Rating: E

Excerpt:

McElroy rolls his eyes and coughs. “Go to hell, Ryan Bergara,” he spits out.

Ryan simply smiles as he trots around the coach. He gives it an appreciative whistle.

“Look at all this,” he says. “This time you went all out, didn’t you Byron?” He comes back to stand beside McElroy. “Though, think about this: it would’ve been cheaper to just have let me rob everything.”

McElroy presses his hand against his stomach, breathing heavily. He’s in pain, clearly, but Ryan’s sure he’s not responding just to bother him. He gets down from his horse, and comes to stand before McElroy.

“If you’re to kill me, do it now, once and for all,” McElroy rasps out.

“I won’t do that. Not like this.”

Aria looks at him then, awaiting orders.

“It won’t change anything, letting me live.” McElroy finally deins to look up at Ryan. “I’ll go after you.”

Ryan grins at him. “You’d disappoint me if you didn’t.”

“Ready!” one of his men yells.

“Cover yourselves!” another warns.

Ryan comes to crouch down behind a bush, and only blinks when the iron door of the coach is blasted open. One of his men, Brent, crawls inside and shoots the lock open, hitting it with his gun to make it finally break free. He reaches to pull a chest out of the holding cell, stepping over the body of a gunman.

Brent comes out and drops it out for everyone to see. Ryan comes to stand nearby, and watches as his men work to get it open. Once it is, they’re all greeted with the sight of money, money, money. They all cheer as they start putting it into bags, forming a line from the chest to the horses. Ryan smiles as they work.

Shane and his girls quietly trot over to a clearing overlooking the valley. There, they can see their cattle, but they can also see the disaster of the gunfight. The upturned coach, the dead bodies strewn about.

They’re clearly stealing from that coach, loading their saddlebags with what they looted. Once everything seems one and done, however, a man comes out from the coach, and grabs one of the thieves, aiming a gun to his head.

“Everyone back away!” he yells, his voice ringing throughout the canyon.

The thieves silence, all ready to shoot him, but their leader holds them off. He’s dressed in black, not unlike an undertaker. The valley is silent. Then,

Both the hostage and the man from the coach are shot in the head, and both fall to the ground. Shane didn’t even see the leader pull his gun out, but there it is, still smoking in his hand.

“He’s fast,” Taryn whispers. Shane can’t tell if she says that with fear or awe.

Ryan turns to look at his crew, eyes hardened. No one dares to say anything. He walks towards Brent, loading bullets into his gun.

“Well, Brent,” he begins, “It appears that there was a policeman inside of the stagecoach...and he wasn’t dead. I know Aria told you because we have some rules in this business.”

Brent is fading fast, and he opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, his throat turned into a pool of blood.

“This is what happens when you put all of us at risk,” Ryan tells him. He clicks the barrel into place, and spins his gun before putting it back in its holster.

“Quinn, look at me,” Shane says, pulling the reins of his stallion back. He snaps to her, and she does the same, making her horse back away from the clearing’s edge.

“Slowly, slowly,” Shane says, nodding as he does. Taryn hasn’t moved yet. “Taryn, look at me.”

She doesn’t seem to hear him, as if stuck in the spot.

“Taryn, let’s go. Look at me.”

Taryn finally jerks out of her reverie, and gets her horse walking, but in doing so, makes rocks tumble down to the valley below. That catches the thieves’ attention, and Taryn starts breathing quickly.

The leader spots them, and calls for his horse. He swiftly gets on it, and trots up the small hill to stand in front of the family. A few of his men accompany him, and all but surround them.

“Good afternoon,” the man says cooly. He’s not sure what to do with them, and Shane wants to work it in his favor.

“Girls, say good afternoon,” he says.

“Good afternoon,” Quinn says. Taryn hasn’t calmed down yet, and looks down, the brim of her hat covering her face.

The man smiles at them, not gently though, almost like a cat waiting for its prey to slip up. “What’s this lovely family doing out here?” he asks.

“That’s my cattle,” Shane says, keeping his voice as level as he can. He can see the gleam of the man’s gun in his belt. “I want them back.”

The leader’s right-hand man snorts. “Careful, cowboy, it’s Ryan Bergara you’re speaking to.”

At that, Taryn lifts her head, looking from thief to thief.

“Well, the cattle’s mine. It’s what I have,” Shane says.

Ryan Bergara, the leader and famed criminal, it seems, smiles at him warmly now. “I don’t need your cattle. But I do need your horses.”

“So that you don’t do something...foolish,” his henchman warns.

Shane nods, and puts the safety back on his rifle. He holds it up, and puts it back in its holster before getting down from his horse. He hands the reins over to one of Ryan’s men, and flushes at the attention Ryan is giving him. Quinn gets down from her horse and hands the reins over to her dad. Taryn, however, seems to struggle with the stirrups before she finally gets down.

“You’ll find them on the road to Bisbee,” Ryan says, before tipping his hat. “Ladies.” He looks at Shane and winks at him.

He leaves with a smile, and the thieves ride out.

Shane and his girls stay on the clearing until they can’t see the posse anymore. When the last of them rides out, Shane can finally breathe. He waves his hand in the direction of his cattle, and starts walking down the hill.

“Why’d he wink at you?” Quinn asks.

“He’s an asshole,” Shane quickly replies. He doesn’t want to think about it.

COMING TO OUR AO3 COLLECTION **TOMORROW** SEPTEMBER 18TH 2021. LOOK ALIVE FOR THE PREMIERE!

[elcinelateleymickyandonie]

Filmografía

The Jazz Age (1929)

Wells Fargo (Una nación en marcha) (1937)

Unión Pacífico (1939)

Foreign Correspondent (Enviado especial) (1940)

Sullivan's Travels (Los viajes de Sullivan) (1941)

The Palm Beach Story (Un marido rico) (1942)

The Great Man's Lady (Una gran señora) (1942)

The More the Merrier (El amor llamó dos veces, 1943)

Buffalo Hill (Aventuras de Buffalo Hill) (1944)

The Virginian (1946)

Ramrod (La mujer de fuego) (1946)

Four Faces West (1948)

South of St. Louis (Al sur de San Luis) (1949)

Colorado Territory (Juntos hasta la muerte) (1949)

The Outriders (1950)

Stars in My Crown (1950)

Saddle Tramp (1950)

Frenchie (1950)

Cattle Drive (1951)

The San Francisco Story (1952)

Rough Shoot (Un disparo en la mañana) (1953)

The Lone Hand (1953)

Border River (1954)

Black Horse Canyon (1954)

Stranger on Horseback (1955)

Wichita (1955)

The First Texan (libertad o muerte) (1956), junto a su hijo Jody McCrea

The Oklahoman (1957)

Trooper Hook (1957)

The Tall Stranger (1957)

Cattle Empire (1958)

Fort Massacre (1958)

The Gunfight at Dodge City (El sheriff de Dodge City) (1959)

Ride the High Country (Duelo en la Alta Sierra) (1962)

The Young Rounders (1966)

Sioux Nation (1970)

Cry Blood, Apache (1970), protagonizada por Jody McCrea

Mustang Country (1976).

Créditos: Tomado de Wikipedia

https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joel_McCrea

#HONDURASQUEDATEENCASA

#ELCINELATELEYMICKYANDONIE

[reefartandwriting]

Always Gone

"We lost her trail in the mini canyons. Sneaky little whore. I bet she has a whole network of tunnels under there." The deputy slammed his fist down onto the table. "Every time! But it's different sheriff! This time she fooled YOU too!"

But the sheriff's mind was elseware. She stared blankly out the dusty window, at the growing town. Oh how small it had been; when she was just a child.

It seemed unreal now, especially the fact her best childhood friend was the most wanted in the county, and she was tasked with finding her: as sheriff.

She let out a small huff; nearly a laugh.

The deputy sighed. "And you're not even listening to me. I'll leave ya to your thoughts." He glanced up for a minute, having the tiniest shred of hope the woman would wake up from her trance, but after a second he gave up, and exited the office.

She turned to look at her desk as he left, feeling more comfortable in the silence. Though her mind still focused on HER. It brought a growl to her throat, and she tossed her hat down to grip her head covered in dirty blonde hair. She hadn't washed it in a few days. She never felt safe enough to visit the bath house.

So she looked up, to see a old poster stapled to the post by the cells. A black and white depiction of a face she was haunted by.

Lapis Lazuli. The shadow bandit. Quick In speed as well as smarts; her face was known but not much else. Guilt settled on the sheriff's mind. Not completely true.

Her favorite color was blue. Her horses name was Buckles. She was very insistent on staying physically clean; despite her occupation. She had a scar just above her waist from when she fell from a hill when they were both eleven.

Peridot Greene knew things no one else knew. Things she should tell, but things she couldn't tell.

She sighed again, leaning back in her chair. "What happened to us, Lapis? To you? To me? Why do you have to go… be… this!" Slight anger boiled in her stomach, but she let it go. No use. The idiot wasn't even here.

"SHERIFF!"

The shout of the deputy made her jump, and she grabbed her hat, reaching for her gun as he came in.

"Lazulis been spotted near Hudson gulch!"

She grabbed her rifle. "That's just a ghost town…" it took her a second of thought to remember the train tracks that ran through there, and mines…

"By stars that could be her hideout." She shuffled quickly to sling her pistol belt around her waist. "I want to approach it alone to not make her bolt-" she turned back around. "Gather a possy and settle behind the rocks near the entrance to the mine. I'll fire my pistol if I have trouble."

"Are you sure, sheriff? Going alone-"

"I'm not going to have her make a fool of me again." She snapped, turning back around. She took a deep breath. It was a lie. She would let lapis go. Everytime. Curse her feelings.

He nodded and was gone again, leaving Peridot to figure out what she would say this time. What to say to try to get lapis back to who she was. To give it up.

Even though she knew it wouldn't work.

______________________________________

Lapis waited. It had taken her weeks to plan this whole situation out. To do it without arising suspicion, and for her to have multiple escape plans.

She was pacing.

Her gun raised to level with her head, a precaution that was second nature. Her instincts were far too intune for her to not be on edge. Especially now.

Peridot was coming.

She would come alone; her possy somewhere out if sight but ready. They would react if a gun fired. Peridot wouldn't do it. Lapis wouldn't either.

But gunfights were easier than this. Gunfights she could win.

But talking? She was terrible. Especially with the all to stubborn sheriff tasked with hunting her down. Especially when she met those green eyes and saw the messy blonde shaggy hair beneath her hat, and when she realized she could never shoot her.

She looked up and smiled, shaking her head. For all her faults, she did have moral values. Killing the girl you have unidentified feelings for is out of the question.

The smile faded when she heard the distant, gentle padding of hooves. It stopped abruptly, and she heard nothing more.

Peridot.

Even though she was sheriff, Lapis always thought she'd make an excellent theif. Small and sneaky; smart.

She huffed when a line came to her mind. She decided to store it for later. Right now she had to surprise her old dear friend.

It was shockingly easy to find a way around behind the poor sheriff. Crouched and peeking around a corner, it was easy to get just behind her.

And press a gun to the back of her head.

Peridot froze immiediately, but calmed when a breath and a whisper came to her ear.

"Bang."

The blonde knew the outlaw was wearing a smirk, but the gun pressed harder into her scalp and the semi friendly interaction was done.

"Stand. We're gonna go somewhere more private, hmm?"

Lapis took only a smidge of satisfaction when Peridot holstered her weapon and stood, raising her hands and letting out a sigh. The rest was guilt that weighed heavily on her. But she gripped the sheriff's arm and lead her away, toward the mine.

They made it to the entrance, when finally peridot spoke. "This really necessary, Lapis?"

She cocked the gun, forcing the blonde to tense, but the lighthearted laugh that followed brought a smile to the sheriff's face. The barrel was removed, and by the sound the outlaw holstered her weopon.

"No, but it's fun."

The blonde lowered her arms back to her sides, s Lapis walked around her, already lighting a ciggerette. "You're really trying my patience. Why do you have to go teasing my men and then turning around and acting nice to me? This isn't a game."

"You only say that because you're losing, Peri." The girl huffed, blowing out smoke. "You're the one that fell for my trap. You know I don't just get spotted."

"That's why I insisted on coming alone." The sheriff growled, shifting in her feet and putting her hands on her hips. "I can arrest you, right now."

"You can TRY." Lapis answered flatly, meeting the stern green gaze.

"Lapis you're a wanted Criminal."

"Wanted for what?"

Peridot growled. "you know what you've done. Don't play mind games. Only stars knows how much you've stolen over the years!"

Lapis flicked the ciggerette harshly, standing up. "Sure. But you only offered to be the head of hunting me to get something back I stole from YOU."

"and what's that, Laz? What bullshit do you think this is?"

She stepped forward, merely inches from the lawwomans face. "You're after me for stealing…" she harshly poked at the blondes chest, staring into her eyes. "...this. whether you know it or not."

The rising red on Peridots face was easily read as embarrassment, but she slapped Lapis's hand away and grabbed her collar. "I've had enough of you fucking with my feelings. You could've been good. Why do all this? Steal and lie and leave me!?"

They both froze. The words were too true. Peridot released her collar, sighing and holding back her tears.

"Because I'm bad." Lapis murmered, her fingers lifted to touch her collar where Peridot had gripped it. "I'm bad."

"You're not bad." Peridot whispered, looking up again. She met confused and unbelieving eyes. "You do bad things Lapis. But you're not bad. Bad people don't feel anything. You feel SOMETHING. Otherwise I wouldn't be alive right now."

"You're a very big exception."

"Same to you."

The silence that followed was deafening. Staring at each other and letting this whole interaction sink in.  Feelings were there. But…

"You're the sheriff."

"I'm supposed to kill you."

"You couldn't. And neither could I."

"Well that's a big problem, hmm?"

Lapis laughed. The first wholehearted, broken laugh she had in a while. Tears threatened her eyes, but she shook her head to clear them away.

Peridot watched, and a single question came to mind.

"Why did you start stealing?"

Lapis smiled sadly, scratching at her temple. "You always had that big dream of… of living in this perfect world. And… I wanted to give it to you. We were little Peridot. Our thought processes and decisions aren't the best. I figured if I got enough money, I could get you what you wanted and you'd be happy. And I just…" she shrugged, her arms slapping against her sides as she let them fall back. "...never stopped."

"You can stop now."

"No I can't. They'd hang me."

"I wouldn't let them."

"Peridot-"

"You can work with us! Help us take down some other outlaws! There's always time!"

"Peri…"

"I'm the sheriff, I have the power to at least keep you alive. Don't you trust me with that?" She blabbered more, and Lapis watched the emotion build, her voice raising and her hands joining her speech. Lapis only stepped forward. When their eyes met and their pleading depths drew her closer, Lapis swore her heart broke.

"Laz… let me-"

She didn't let her finish. Lapis pulled her forward roughly, into a kiss that she hoped poured every ounce of the good in herself into her. It was too late for her, but her emotions were a mess. When she pulled away, tears spilled from both their eyes.

But another smile appeared on Lapis's face. "If I'd read the posters I might have known how bad you wanted me."

"Fuck you." Peridot whispered. "Just… fuck you, Laz. All I do is cover and try to help and you-"

"I'm beyond help. Stop trying."

"If I did that you'd die."

They stared at each other, their breaths still mixing, before Lapis shoved the blonde backwards onto the ground. "I would deserve it." She murmered. But before the sheriff could argue, Lapis was sprinting away, her boots barely making a sound.

And then she was gone.

Like always.

Inspired by THIS post

[creativitytoexplore]

https://ift.tt/33hdxdo

Annesha Mitha, “No One Wants to Be Here Forever”

“When Mrithika first came home, she expected, selfishly, that she would be taken care of. She didn’t account for the tumors found on the ultrasound screen, curled up with the dog’s wet organs. She didn’t understand how much care a small body like the dog’s could absorb. But now, the dog is fed pills stashed in Vienna sausages three times a day. She’s held until she falls asleep, and her messes are cleaned up with bleach that warps the floorboards. As Mrithika slowly regains her strength, or rather, learns how to move with the pain still inside her, she and Cupcake haunt the courtyard like ghosts in training.”

—

Joyce Carol Oates, “The Redwoods”

“At first when it was happening, when the process of dying began, Vanbrugh hadn’t paid attention. Exactly like Vanbrugh: not paying attention.

On the phone. Concentration elsewhere. (In fact, ignominy of ignominies, he’d been on hold.) Couldn’t be bothered to take heed of a physical symptom. Or two, or three.

First twinge of headache, nausea, gut cramps, fever—Vanbrugh’s strategy had always been to ignore. Onset of flu, diarrhea—ignore for as long as you can.

Not a hypochondriac. Indeed, the antithesis of a hypochondriac.

Priding himself on being fit. For a man of his age, unusually fit.

And so, Vanbrugh had no idea it was dying that swept through him like a child running through a house switching off lights.”

—

Amy Sauber, “I Am the Man with the Horse”

“I stroked my insanely lifelike Kanekalon fiber mustache in the way guys do when they want to appear meditative. I really looked better as a man. But what did that mean? I took in my new self in that lambent, paranormal light: bolo tie, denim shirt buttoned to the neck with flashy pink-and-red-sequin roses embroidered on my shoulders. My jaw became more square. I felt a keen, quiet tug in my heart. You would have never known the feeling was inside me. I sang a bit of a gunfighter ballad.

Jim let his hand fall limply over his other arm. He said, ‘Now, go break some hearts.’”

—

Mary South, “Camp Jabberwocky for Recovering Internet Trolls”

“Lately, Camp Jabberwocky, a summer retreat on Martha’s Vineyard for troubled teens in need of an attitude adjustment and a healthier relationship with social media, had been receiving more than its usual share of drive-bys. The perps were a bunch of townie jock douchebags, scum of the island, who rolled by in an Infiniti—or some other car with satellite radio and a navigation system—and shouted obscenities intermingled with lines from the famous Lewis Carroll poem. They were trolling the trolls, so to speak. ‘Beware the Jubjub bird! Suck my dick!’ they would shout. ‘All mimsy were the borogoves, you fucks!’”

—

Lisa Taddeo, “The Psychomanteum”

“The psychomanteum is run by a psychic whose name is Kate.

She lives at the top of Topanga Canyon, where the real bedlamites roost, snarfing bananas and being Neil Young. Her father was on a long-running and very popular TV show from the eighties, so she is dilapidated Hollywood royalty. Nobody at anyplace current knows who she is, but if you walk into the lurid diners on Hollywood Boulevard, drink a hot black water from a Styrofoam cup with a dead fly floating at the top and say her full name within earshot, the owner with the jaunty terriers inside his nose will perk up, white-smock over to you, and wax about her dad.”

—

Ted Thompson, “The Electric Slide”

“Do you remember, she says, as a kid, and you flinch, knowing that the answer is usually no, though you have to pretend it’s yes. When you woke up one morning and cried and cried because you said everything had changed? And when we got in the car, just you and me, you told me that sometimes you wake up and the world is totally different and you don’t understand anything anymore? How lonely that is? Tears fill your eyes as you nod. I still think about that. She reaches for the weed gizmo and you hand it to her. She laughs. You were like a little crybaby poet and you had no idea, she says, and together you listen to the music of the frogs.”

[isgrow]

The Haunted Town Of Tombstone

We travel to the O.K. Corral in search of gunslinging ghouls.

Unsolved has merch! Check it out here: http://bzfd.it/shopunsolved Watch on Amazon Instant Video: http://amzn.to/2nxA2q6 Watch on Hulu: https://hulu.tv/2FHqdMT Check out our BuzzFeed Original Series channel on Roku: http://bit.ly/2DUnOlE

Credits: https://www.buzzfeed.com/bfmp/videos/68733

Welcome to the BuzzFeed Unsolved Network! This channel is your one-stop destination for all things mystery, conspiracy, supernatural, true crime, and everything in between. Subscribe here: http://bit.ly/2zuaR06.

MUSIC

Licensed via Audio Network

STILLS Big Nose Kate’s Saloon on E Allen St in historic Tombstone, Arizona csfotoimages/Getty Images Village near the Oljato–Monument Valley in Arizona. Ranch house. Aerial view, from above, drone shooting AlenaMozhjer/Getty Images lump of silver or platinum on a stone floor Oat_Phawat/Getty Images Close-Up Of Beer Glass Against White Background Classen Rafael / EyeEm/Getty Images Antique photograph of people from the World: Jay Gould ilbusca/Getty Images Ouzina desert Manuel Breva Colmeiro/Getty Images Vector wooden Texture Julia_Khimich/Getty Images Full Frame Texture, old concrete wall Ivan/Getty Images 3D Image of classic old deserted western town richard eppedio/Getty Images Silhouette of Cowboy couple riding horses at sunset, vector kanyakits/Getty Images Set of blood splashes isolated on white background. Vector design element ioanmasay/Getty Images U.S. Army Taking over Western Territories Engraving, 1887 bauhaus1000/Getty Images Antique photo of paintings: Man ilbusca/Getty Images Scenic View Of Mountains Against Clear Sky Arthur Simoes / EyeEm/Getty Images EDITORIAL USE: Graves of OK Corral gunfight participants, Boothill Graveyard, Tombstone, Arizona Elizabeth Beard/Getty Images Man with handlebar mustache and chin puff Holly Harris/Getty Images Cowboy in various action 4×6/Getty Images OK Corral, Tombstone Mirrorpix/Getty Images Barman stood behind the bar of his pub JGalione/Getty Images Glass and bottle of beer on table Lumina Images/Getty Images Men Killed by Wyatt Earp John van Hasselt – Corbis/Getty Images Doc Holliday John van Hasselt – Corbis/Getty Images THE WESTERN CITY OF TOMBSTONE IN ARIZONA John van Hasselt – Corbis/Getty Images Tombstone Arizona Art Wager/Getty Images 1900s PORTRAIT WOMAN… H. Armstrong Roberts/ClassicStock/Getty Images Shotgun icon vector MrsWilkins/Getty Images Modern condo apartment Stuart Dee/Getty Images Wyatt Earp Bettmann/Getty Images Evil School Janitor inhauscreative/Getty Images Silbermine, Westerndorf ‘Tombstone Village’, Arizona, Nordamerika, Amerika, USA, Rei Peter Bischoff/Getty Images gravestone set koya79/Getty Images Court of the Queen’s Bench duncan1890/Getty Images Victorian People Man_Half-tube/Getty Images Young Black Server or Waiter Holding a Tray innovatedcaptures/Getty Images Ridin’ down the canyon Eastview Photography/Getty Images Trailer Trash vandervelden/Getty Images A Stagecoach In Tombstone Underwood Archives/Getty Images Western style silhouette buildings. Klibbor/Getty Images Empty pub Spaces Images/Getty Images Western Cowboy Gunslingers – Gun Fight, Outlaws KeithBishop/Getty Images A black and white portrait of a cowboy in Paradise Valley, NV. Rachid Dahnoun/Getty Images A black and white portrait of a cowboy in Wells, NV. Rachid Dahnoun/Getty Images Equestrian Sports: Western Gaucho/Getty Images cowboy deputy treasurephoto/Getty Images Grunge background in black and white with a brick pattern Angel_1978/Getty Images Courthouse. Witold Skrypczak/Getty Images View from Massai Point at Chiricahua National Monument with Sulphur Spring Valley Dragoon Mountains in far distance. Witold Skrypczak/Getty Images Young cowboy at table in saloon Mordolff/Getty Images Tombstone county courthouse Tashka/Getty Images OK Corral Gunfight Site, Tombstone, Arizona, USA Walter Bibikow/Getty Images OK Corral Gunfight sign, Tombstone, Arizona, USA Danita Delimont/Getty Images North America, United States, 1855, Map Of The United States Exhibiting The Several Collection Districts. Senate Ex. Doc. No. Drawn By David H. Burr Draftsman U.s, Senate. Ackerman Lith. Broadway N.y., Map Of The United States Exhibiting The Several Coll Historic Map Works LLC and Osher Map Library/Getty Images Tables in restaurant Tetra Images/Getty Images Portrait of a cowboy Adam Burn/Getty Images bartender shaking cocktail mixer in bar. RK Studio / Monashee Frantz/Getty Images THB0008248 Thinkstock/Getty Images THC0020462 Thinkstock/Getty Images Colt Peacemaker and a handful of bullets Geoff Brightling/Getty Images

VIDEO (Slow Motion) Horse Running- Hoof Close Up Rocheleau/Getty Images

being published on http://mybecause.com/the-haunted-town-of-tombstone/