The street is quiet in the uneasy way only a frontier town can be. Lamps glow faintly through the windows of Shinbone’s storefronts, and the townspeople line the boardwalk in tense silence. In the center of the dirt street stands a thin young lawyer clutching a revolver he barely knows how to use. Across from him, lounging with casual cruelty, is a man who lives for moments like this. Liberty Valance flicks his whip against his boot and smiles. The lawyer’s hands tremble. Someone whispers a prayer. Then the gunfire cracks through the night, echoing down the empty street as a legend is born.
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