The door slammed open just as Clint got the drawer open and saw the Merwin & Hulbert revolver in the drawer.
As the men came in with guns out, the warden put up his hands and said, “Don’t shoot, I’m the warden.”
“Yeah,” one of the men said, “we know.”
Three of the men pointed their guns at the warden, and he knew he was dead. The other three pointed theirs at Clint, but that was a different matter.
Clint grabbed the gun from the drawer, hoping against hope it was fully loaded, because there were six men.
Holding the gun in his hand, he darted over to the warden, who was frozen in place, and shoved him to the floor. At the same time he started firing.
The six men were told they’d be firing at a Gunsmith who had no gun. Seeing the gun in Clint’s hand, they panicked. Their shots flew all around Clint as he fired very deliberately.
Two of the guards were blown back into the arms of the others, so their subsequent shots also went wild. These men were prison guards, not gunfighters. They were sent in to perform executions.
Clint fired a third time, and another guard fell. The others were screaming for the falling guards to get out of their way.
A fourth shot dropped a fourth guard. Two left, and Clint hoped he still had two bullets.
The warden was on the floor, curled into a ball with his hands and arms covering his head.
Outside the room Rock heard all the shooting, and rushed inside. On the off chance the warden survived, it had to look like he was rushing to the rescue, routing the escaped prisoners. But when he entered, he was surprised to see four guards down, and the remaining two seemed to be firing with their eyes closed.
Clint pulled the trigger a fifth time, disposing of a fifth guard, and then the burning question was about to be answered.
He pulled the trigger a sixth time, hoping he wouldn’t hear the hammer clicking on an empty chamber. The gun fired, and the sixth guard went windmilling out the door into the outer office.
Rock had to step aside to avoid the sixth guard, but then he pointed his shotgun at Clint.
“That’s it, Adams,” he said, looking around the room. “Six dead guards, six shots. Stand up, Warden.”
Warden Gordon stood up and stared at Rock.
“What the hell is going on, Rock?”
“Deputy Warden Simon said it’s time to get rid of both of you,” Rock said, “and I agree. Who’s first?”
“You are, Rock,” Clint said, and fired the seventh shot from the rare 7-shot .32-caliber Merwin & Hulbert revolver.