"Just ride on mister.
I don't need your company.
Make one wrong move
And I'll set your spirit free."

Just outside the campfire
The rider, he was stunned
So he just sat real still
Looking at that big gun

"It's beans, yep, beans I smell;
And sir they're a burnin'.
I'll leave if you say so,
But them beans need a stirrin'."

He lowered his gun long enough
To take a turn at the beans.
The lanky cowpoke on the bay
Was still sittin' there, it seems.

"Just enough grub here for one,"
Is all the gunman would say.
"Now before I plug you
You best be on your way."

"I don't have much neither,
But if you want, I can share:
Some jerk, coffee, a biscuit or two,
Some tobaccy and an apple we could pare."

The outlaw stopped to think
Surely he was so tuckered
Coffee, food, a smoke
Sounded like some comfort

"Swing down and sit a spell.
But I'm tellin' you for certain,
Don't make any false moves
Or you'll come up hurtin'."

They hunkered near the blaze
And the rider doffed his hat
He began to thank the Lord
For the food and this and that

"Heavenly Father thank You for this day
And all that you have let transpire.
Most of all for them beans
And this partner and his fire."

The hard case still had his pistol
And it was at the ready.
His eyes were clear and cold;
His hand, strong and steady.

He didn't even holster it.
Just put it well within reach.
Ate some beans and jerk
While he listened to the cowboy speak.

"Thanks dear Lord for the hot coffee,
All them clear blue skies,
Fresh mountain mornin's
And especially for this guy."

"Shut up and eat," the man growled.
"Or this will be your last prayer.
Got no need for you or your God
Not once has he ever cared."

"Guess I'd better just say Amen."
Is all the stranger could say.
He wasn't afraid of any man
But he wanted to live another day.

The coffee was black and strong
And it surely hit the spot.
So the cowboy started to sing
Whether the bad man liked it or not.

Amazing Grace was all he knew.
He certainly knew it well.
He saw the outlaw turn away
As on the ground a tear drop fell.

"Well, I cry sometimes too
When I hear that song.
It lets me know that He loves me
No matter what I've done wrong."

The stranger was silent a while,
Then from his saddlebags he took
A well worn leather bound volume
He called GOD's Good Book.

It fell open to John 3:16.
From the scripture he did read.
The outlaw holstered his pistol
And got down on his knees.

Under a big red cedar
He lifted a prayer to the Lord
Asking for his forgiveness
And meanin' every word.

Then he got out his bed roll
And pulled his hat over his eyes.
Slept so deep and so peaceful
Under those clear Texas skies.

It was coffee, and biscuits and jerk
When it became the light of day.
They saddled up their ponies
Prepared to go their separate ways.

"Why don'tcha ride with me?"
Your journey has just begun."
"Can't do that friend.
I'm a bandit on the run."

"I'm afraid you have no choice."
He said as he showed his star.
In his hand was his Winchester.
"Come on, now, it won't be far."

"Why don't you just shoot me?
Save me from the noose.
They're going to hang me.
Can't you turn me loose?"

"Friend its the end of the trail.
We all get there some way
'Cause the Lord is the keeper
Of the time and the day."

"But last night you did
What many men fail to do.
You got right with the boss
And He has a range for you."

"It stretches out far beyond time
And you won't be on the run
Because He forgave all your sins
When He sacrificed His son."

"Now come along peaceful like,
So I won't have to use this gun.
You might have lost at life
But it's eternal salvation that you've won."

So when in the jail he sat
Knowing he'd be gone without a trace
For his very last wish
He asked, "Sing me Amazing Grace."

Ron Secoy