The Gunfighter trail... - A Western

[dev]

Nothing like watching a baddie take a beating on a winter morning, now to get back to real life, sheesh .

[sunny0135]

Hi,
waiting anxiously to read more.................

[hvj1]

Here you are Sunny

Chapter Fourteen

They had a quiet dinner, interrupted once, when Henry came in with the news that a bone setter had tried his best to set Ike’s arm, it was doubtful whether Ike would ever be able to retain full function of his right arm.

Merry chewed thoughtfully, Will ate quietly, later turning in for the night.

The next day, he strolled out of the office, stopping to lean on one of the posts. He noticed that town folks either gave him a wide berth, or nodded to him as they went past. Well he seemed to have acquired a reputation overnight!

Merry stepped out during a lull in business, joined by Henry, who took a seat on a bench along the wall.
“Been thinkin most of last night. Some things don’t add up, thought yer could a fill in” spoke Merry to Will.
Will took one of the chairs, “Spit it out then, what’s bothering you?”
“Now I been knowin ya since some time, usually I kin figure the trail mostly of all menfolk, but yer got me stumped a mite” Said Merry.
“Back there in the saloon, what yer did, was one of the finest fightin I ever seen, but it looks to me clear as daylight, that there's more to it than meets the eye”.

Perhaps the time had come to share his past, thought Will, Merry was one person he respected and he did deserve to know.

So Will recounted his past briefly. Merry sat chewing on his tacky, listening intently. At the end of it, he nodded several times to himself as he turned the facts over in his mind.

“Waal, a lot o things kinda fall in place, that there Jacob n his crowd? Always figured somethin was wrong, the way I figure it, its time the story was let known to people.”
“But if yer story gets out, yer will hafta watch yer n back all times,”warned Merry.
“I guess so” nodded Will somberly.

Merry dusted his pants with his hat as he walked to the saloon. Later, Will came to know, that McGuire sent for a few upright citizens in town, Cartwright amongst them. There the story was told by Merry for the purpose of shutting down Jacob’s nefarious activities.

By sundown, the story had spread like wildfire, to be carried across both sides of the California Trail by the wayfarers who frequented them.

The next morning, Jacobs had disappeared and so had Burney, Ike and the rest of the other galoots. Where they had gone? Nobody knew for sure, but stories ran rife. Some said that Jacob had hitched on to a stage coach going East. Yet others claimed that they had pulled out for Texas.

Only Will was sure where they would eventually go, to California and the gold mines in which Jacob had invested. There he was sure to find them.

It was nearing the end of two months, Coleman would be arriving with the new wagons at Fort Bridger. Leaving Merry and Henry at Rafter, Will tied his saddle roll and headed back to Fort Bridger, where he was to meet Coleman and accompany the freight wagons back to Rafter.

Will rode very carefully, with Merry’s parting advice in his ears, “Yer be mindin yer back, them fellers will try to get yer when yer least expectin it, n it could be anywheres.”” Don’t yer go trustin nobody, yer hear. Nobody!”

Taking up the regular trail, Will headed back to Fort Bridger. On the way, he visited his foster parents ‘Man Who Walks Tall and Kimani. Unable to meet the Chief, Will spent a day with the Shoshones before hitting Fort Bridger.

By then, Fort Bridger was mostly occupied by the Mormons, who had worked out their own trail; ’The Mormon Trail’.

Sitting on the verandah of the store, he observed a group of riders trooping into the fort. One of them was addressed as ‘Theo’ and appeared to be the leader, though he looked every inch an Easterner.

Later during the day while taking his meals, he noticed ‘Theo,’ poring over a deerskin map with one of the mountain men. The two seemed to be arguing about a probable route through the Sierra Nevada mountain range.

At the mention of the Sierras, Will’s interest was piqued, since on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada, lay California and the main California Gold Fields. It also brought to mind, several conversations with Merry, who had done his share of trapping for many years, in and around the Sierra Nevada and the Carson Ranges.

The Mountain man shook his head again and again to Theo’s arguments. Finally exasperated, Theo rolled up the deerskin and the conversation came to a halt. Their glances met over the table, Will nodded perfunctorily. Theo, smiled wryly
“I suppose young man, you would’nt be knowing a way across the Sierra’s”.
“Sir, I have never seen the Sierra’s, leave alone crossin them”. Theo nodded sardonically.
“But I do know of a trapper, who has explored the Sierras as well as the Carson Range.”

Sighing deeply, like a man who was clutching at straws in the wind when all efforts have proved naught, he spoke heavily, “And prey, do tell me where this man is now?”
“At Rafter City. Perhaps, if you could tell me your need to cross them ranges, I may proove to be of some help?”
“Well, no harm there”, so saying he lit his pipe and bade Will to come over to his table.

Sticking out his hand, he introduced himself as Theodore Judah, a railroad engineer. Will on his part, briefly told him about his role, as a Wells Fargo partner, handling freight from Fort Bridger to California. On hearing this, Theo took a closer look at the young man, commending him for his spirit of enterprise and vision.

“I am truly honored to meet you Sir, though you seem to be young in years, you more than make up with a very sensible head on those shoulders of yours.”
”This country needs men like you, its very likely that we may be kindred in spirit and thought.”

From then on, the two spent a great deal of their waking hours together. Theo told Will, that he was the Chief Engineer of the Sacramento Valley Railroad company, which had gone bust, due to financial difficulties. He had helped build the railroad, a pioneering effort at that time, since it was the first railroad to be built west of the Mississippi river.

Theo greatly believed that a properly funded railroad, could prove financially viable, if it were to connect Sacramento in California, to pass through the Sierra Nevada mountain ranges, to reach the Great Basin, where they could then be connected to the rail lines going East.

The self belief of the man and his passionate commitment to his idea, left Will completely spell bound.

Sitting on the stoop, watching the continuous stream of emigrants, Theo pointed at them with his pipe,
“You see before you there, the passage of what would seem to be ordinary folk. Some could be easily moved to ridicule them.”
“And perhaps rightly so, considering that they have no idea of what lies ahead of them.”
”Some will surely succumb to sickness, hunger, scurvy or Indians, while some would be dragged down in a careless moment, under the very wheels of the wagons that take them forth”.

”What draws them on and keeps them going, is their ‘dream’.”
”They dream of a better life. In the form of rich lands, better pastures, gold.” “And in so doing, they are building, building a trail, where there is none. Hewing it out of rocks, mountains and over the desert where there is no water, only dried bones and alkali.”

”Thus unknowingly they build a nation, a better one, whose borders expand with every step they take, however difficult, however hard, for it is the indomitable human spirit, that burns within them all that leads them on and over the distant horizon.”

“It takes all kinds of men and women, to make a trail.” “Some like you and me, see beyond tomorrow, we are the ones, who unfold the great picture of yonder dreams. But we cannot do it alone, nor can we pompously claim to be the leaders”.
“For great enterprise is built not by the visionaries but is fuelled by men of greed”.

“Greed?” asked Will.
“Oh Yes!” “Greed, that supposedly baser human quality, is what builds great enterprises.”
“How is that?” Puffing on his pipe, Theo explained further,

“Take the Gold Strike, the greed to strike it rich is what led people to locate a shorter route, the California Trail, now that’s great enterprise in itself”.
“Where men rush, the merchants and other businesses follow.” “So then you have wagons hauling freight despite there being no road to speak off, that’s enterprise”.

“Its’ greed’ that takes them there, goods sold in California gold fields are bought at 1/10th their cost in the East, despite losses, they still provide substantive profits to the freighters.”
“That is why I say, great enterprise is built on greed.” “People who have the money, want to double it, not satisfied, they look for an opportunity to treble it”.

“That is why, I am sure, my plans for the railroad will succeed, because the railroad, will deliver goods and people to the frontier cheaper, in a shorter time and more safely.””There lies the opportunity to treble profits if not more”.

“But your plan is so big and will take a lot of money” said Will,
“So? More than money, it is men with huge appetites for power. Those connected with other powerful people. Those in the government, who will stand to gain, when the railways pass through their constituencies.”
“Their constituencies will develop, ordinary folk will prosper through increased flow of business. These same ordinary folks, will be the ones who will vote, for those who back the railways.”

“You seem to have thought it all out”
“Not all, my friend, I need you to make that possible”
“Who me?”
“Yes, You. Thus far, I have not been able to locate, one single route through the Sierra’s. You will do that for me, in the bargain, you too will profit handsomely, that I can assure you.”

“Tomorrow, I go back East, you will go West and locate that route for me.””We will communicate via the Wells Fargo offices and keep each other informed of the progress we make on our sides.”

The next morning saw Will bidding adieu to his new found friend, welcoming another at midday, as Coleman rode in at the head of six spanking new Studebaker wagons, all loaded with goods!

Jumping down from the wagon, he greeted Will with a grin. “Well, what do you know, young man?" "You sure are lucky.” Pointing at the wagons he continued, “Those wagons are full of goods, ordered by the Mormons, who are building their own city at Salt Lake.”

“All your wagons are booked for the next twelve months, with goods all headed for their new city.” “By the end of that time, you will have more than doubled your investment” he said, clapping his hands on Wills shoulders. “Now all we can hope is that the Indians dont bother us.”

“I think I can arrange their safe passage” said Will. Coleman stopped in his tracks, “You can? you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure, you go on ahead, don’t be too surprised if a body of Indians follow you. To protect you.” Grinned Will.
“Well, I would love to see the day, now come on in, I got something for you.”

They walked into their lodgings, where Coleman drew out a paper package. Pulling open the strings, he pulled out two leather holsters. One for a long rifle, the other, for a belt gun. “These here are the newest ‘Slim Jim’ holsters for your revolver and that there scabbard is for the rifle, which can be carried on your horse.”

Picking them up, Will drew one of his revolvers and shoved it into the holster. The molded contours of the holster fit the Colt Navy snuggly. A narrow leather belt looped over the hammer, to cover the cylinder and was fastened on the side. The entire holster was made of one piece stiff leather, with the barrel end left open.

The holster itself was stitched on to a broad leather belt, with pouches for powder and shot. Will tried on the belt, the holstered gun resting on his right side, slightly angled forward for easy draw of the weapon.The other revolver he stuck in his belt, behind his back.

Coleman left him to his devices, going out to supervise the wagons. In the privacy of his room, Will snapped off the leather fastener, drawing the revolver again and again. It was a far cry from drawing the gun from the belt, where it could snag at times. With the holster, the drawing of the weapon was far quicker and smoother. He nodded in appreciation, all in all, it had been good going these past few days. Now he had to go back to Shoshone village, regarding safe passage of his wagons.

[sunny0135]

Vow...Captivating... Great

[hvj1]

Thanks Sunny.

Chapter Fifteen

Coleman and the wagons pulled out of Fort Bridger, with Will escorting the group of ten wagons, six of which were his. They travelled for most of the day and the next. At midday, He waved to Coleman, breaking away for the Shoshone villages, which were a short distance away.

Man Who Walks Tall, greeted him as he rode into the village, with the dogs and small children chasing him playfully. Getting down from his horse, he got out a box of rock candies and a few gaily colored ribbons and trinkets, which he distributed amongst the children. Looking at the joy on their faces reminded him of his childhood and the days spent in the village with other Indian children.

Entering the tepee, he laid in front of his foster father, a fine folding knife. When Kimani entered, he presented her with bales of cloth. The gifts were appreciated, then father and son, sat down to smoke a pipe while Kimani busied herself in preparing a meal.

In his previous visit, Will had informed his foster parents regarding the way his life was progressing, to which they had expressed satisfaction. Now Will broached the subject of keeping the Indians from attacking the wagons travelling from Fort Bridger to Rafter and beyond to Salt Lake City. Man Who Walks Tall, suggested that they should take the Chief’s advice on the matter. So that evening, they entered the lodge of the Great Chief.

Chief Washakie turned somber on hearing Will’s request, much smoke had passed through his pipe, no words were spoken as the Chief sat gazing away in the distance, as if in a trance. Eventually, when he spoke, he surprised those around him with a chilling prophecy!

“I see a time of great trial, for not only our people, but all the tribes in the Indian Nation. Some will be wiped out, others will be driven out of their hunting grounds, to be forever banished into unknown lands, where there will be no food to gather nor buffalo to hunt.”

“Very few will lead the lives they have led of their forefathers, My People, the Shoshones, will be the only tribe to still be able to live on their ancestral hunting grounds.”

On hearing this, the Indian braves around him, looked at each other in concern, for the Chief never spoke a false word and they had come to believe in him as the greatest leader the Shoshones had ever known.
‘One Who Runs Alone’, one of the fiercest and most cunning warriors spoke, “Great Chief, none of the other tribes dare enter our hunting grounds, so who is it who will run us off our hunting grounds”.

“The White man” Spoke the Chief.

“But they die easily, many have died since they first appeared, how can they, who do not even know how to live of this great land, can think of driving us from our lands ?”

“When you kill one, ten more will take their place”, “I have seen their Iron Horse, our horses may carry two, that too not far.” “The White man’s Iron Horse carries hundreds, miles over miles”.

“But it is not the Iron Horse alone, nor the Pony Soldiers who will destroy the Indian Tribes.” “it is we who will destroy ourselves, when we get accustomed to using the White Man’s tools, we rely on them, for we know not how to make them."When we rely on others, then those whom we rely on, will eventually rule upon us.”

“Then once and for all, we will drive them out or kill them all as they enter our hunting grounds” Thundered “One Who Runs Alone’.

“We will do no such thing”, pointing at Will, “Beginning with his wagons, we shall protect all those who pass through our territory”. “We must gain the White Man’s trust and friendship, for that alone, will see us through the coming difficult times.”

The Chief instructed ‘Man Who Walks Tall’ to escort the wagons and to inform all the other Shoshone tribes in the West to comply.

The following morning, Will along with a band of Indians, led by ‘Man Who Walks Tall’ rode out of the village in the direction of the wagons. They overtook the wagons the next day, while the Indians held back, Will rode ahead to meet Coleman and brief him of the arrangements he had secured with the Chief.

Coleman, remained skeptical and wary, so did the other wagon folks and the teamsters, who remained ready with guns handy. But as the days wore on, with no attacks from any Indians, the skepticism slowly waned. It eroded further, when the wagons got bogged down in a river bed. The Indians rode up and helped them pull through.

The late camp fire saw broiled venison meat for the first time, dropped by the Indians. By the time the wagons reached Rafter, a good twenty days later, Coleman and most of the Argonauts had grown accustomed to having the Indians close by. The Indians hung back only in the last stretch towards Rafter, lest they be mistaken by the townsfolk, as a marauding Indian war party.

Will rode into town with Coleman, Merry, stood on the sidewalk, watching them come along. A broad toothy grin of welcome creased his face as he sighted them. Helping them into their living quarters, Coleman and Will exchanged news with Merry.

Late in the evening, they sat together for dinner and after dinner customary smoke. While Will was away, it had been a more or less uneventful passage of time at Rafter, apart from the increased flow of emigrants.

On the following day, Merry, who had gone down to McGuire’s Saloon, came back with a worried look about him. He looked around for Will, finally finding him at the Barber’s. Waiting patiently till he was done. Will noticed that Merry’s disposition lacked the regular geniality. Together they walked back to the office.

“What’s biting you?” Asked Will as the crossed the street, pausing to allow a mule train to go past them.
“Tell yer in the office there” Said merry, scanning the street on both sides. Sitting on the bench outside the office, Merry spoke, “I got some news fer yer an it dasnt look to good”.

“Words out that Jacob’s is meanin to bushwhack yer.” “He’s got some of his own pack waitin to get yer, besides hirin a few killers n gunmen.” “N these gents are spread all the way to Californy, waitin fer yer to make yer move, afore they kill yer.”

Will felt himself go still, coming to his feet, he pushed his hat back on his head, walking a few paces to be alone for a while.
“I think a short ride will clear my head a bit, what say?”
“Yer want me to tag along?” Answered Merry.
“ Naw, I gotta do this on my own”.
“Then keep yer eyes skinned” advised Merry.

Switching to a line back dun, Will rode out of town, taking a route between the barn and an adjoining building. It led into an arroyo, which in turn dipped away from town. Following the bottom of the arroyo for some distance, he topped onto its side, quickly switching his horse on to the other side, he cantered away at steady pace to the distant hills.

Riding along the foothills, he switched back and forth, through a stream, into a copse of Junipers, then through a dry river bed. He climbed up a steep slope to crest the highest hill, covered with pine.
He looked carefully at his back trail, seeing no sign of movement, he dismounted, trailing the horse, he picketed it close to some grass. Pulling out his Sharpe, he hunkered down between a few boulders, his position gave him a clear view of his back trail, a few bushes, partially hid his movements.

Pushing his hat back, he contemplated the situation. In a span of a few days, his life had changed entirely. All these days he rode carefree, stealing along quietly behind Jacob and his gang in anonymity. Well that was all over now, it was all out in the open between them.

They were now completely aware of him, knew to some extent his abilities but he hoped that they would underestimate him.They would assume that they had the advantage in numbers, experience and ruthlessness. While he mentally acknowledged their strength in numbers, it could be turned around in his favor. For they may rely on each other too much, making them relax just enough for him to strike, when least expected!

They had the experience of many years over him but he had the skills of an Indian fighter and those taught by Kimani, which till now he had not put to good use.

He squirmed mentally at the thought of being hunted. A waiting game would enable them to pick and choose the time, place and method of striking at him. No! he could not allow that to happen. He would have to draw them out, into a terrain of his choice, where he could use his skills to strike in a manner that would set doubts on their own abilities.

He must create doubts in their minds, to the extent, that they should make mistakes. Surprise, stealth and cunning had to be used at all times. But above all he had to be prepared, prepared at all times, for one mistake would be the end of him!

His thoughts wandered to his meeting with Theo. He was impressed by the man, to say the least. What about himself? What was he to make of his own life? Was he to spend the best part of his life, hunting or being hunted?
No. There had to be more than just killing or being killed, though right now it was a question of survival. He had no idea how long it would take or would he end up being killed?

If he were to make something of his own life, then first, he had to be free of the constant feeling of being watched, constantly looking over his back, to find substance in shadows, where there was none. The only way out was to squash the head of the enemy, for this, he must seek out and kill Jacob and Burney. Once these two were out of the way, the other remaining members of the gang, if there remained any, may scatter.

Or would they? Well time would tell.

He had only one ally, that was Merry, but he must not risk him. In any case, he was averse to pulling anybody, into what was clearly his fight, but he could certainly use the experience of the Mountain man. Merry had friends and contacts on both sides of the law, as well as the border. He could be his eyes and ears. He must speak to him and take his advice.

[jitu sati]

great going sir. will wait for more. hey hvj any advise on my post on tips--------shooting
jitu

[sunny0135]

Hi hvj1,
It's been quite sometime since we got a nice treat...
Regards....

[hvj1]

Hi Sunny, hope yer like this one.

Chapter Sixteen

Returning back to town, Will spent the remainder of the day, discussing with Merry his future plans. Will dwelt at length on his meeting with Theo and his parting offer to locate a route for the railways, through the Sierra Nevada.
He was of the mind to travel along with the wagons all the way to California, to get firsthand knowledge of the California Trail, which passed through the Sierras. Doing so would probably enable him to locate Jacob and Burney, who he felt sure were somewhere in and around the California Gold Fields.

“Yer thinkin along the right lines” said Merry, “travellin along with them wagons, will surely make it difficult fer anybody to strike at yer. Unless, yer was on yer own, traipsing far from the wagons”. “Way I figure it, this here wagon train, is gonna be big, with sixteen wagons a rollin together”. “Nobody in his right mind will attack out there in the open”. “Somebody could trail ya, but I figure, them bodies will try n make a move aginst ya in some of those towns along the way.”

Will nodded in agreement, “So, what say you ride along with me, we could take in a sight of country, also you know the Sierras, maybe we could work it out to find a route together?”
Merry chuckled, “Yer sure have me there, I feel like a bear sittin around this here office, me I was allus for the wild, when I ran outta money, waal, I had to hunt some work, this job here s good as any?”
“Iffin I get paid to travel along, waal, that sure tickles me good.
“So you will join me?
“Sure a tootin kid, I am fer it, maybe we can find us a gold mine in them Sierras. But you gotta square it with Coleman, he’s the boss man, see.”
“Leave that to me, I’ll wrangle something” So saying they turned in for the night.

Early next day, Will met Coleman. Briefing him about his plan, leaving out the part, regarding the route for the railways. Coleman rubbed his jaw, “Well, if he is taking out with you, then he ceases to be an employee of Wells Fargo, but he could go to work for you, taking care of the wagons at the other end and look after the freighting at our offices in California. This should leave you free to be on your own. Hate to let him go though, take a mite of trouble finding a good man as a replacement, but I’ll do it for you.” So saying they shook hands on it and Will headed back to break the news to Merry.

Merry was pleased as sponge, grinning like a Cheshire cat from ear to ear. “Truth be told, money or no money, had it not been for ya, I would’ve quit and moseyed into them mountains long ago.”

The wagon train moved out the next day, Merry and Will accompanying the wagons. Man Who Walks Tall and his band of Indians too followed but from a discrete distance, so as not to be too obvious to a casual observer. It took them two days to reach the City of Rocks, roughly 20 miles away.

The Wagon Train camped on the outskirts of the City of Rocks, with no intention of laying about but to move on the next day, towards Goose Creek via the Granite Pass in the Big Horn Mountains of Wyoming. The Pass which has an ascent of over 7000 ft, was treacherous and the teamsters and Argonauts prepared themselves mentally for the steep climb.

Leaving at dawn, they moved towards the pass. The Shoshones now came closer to the wagon train, to assist them where ever possible. Will scouted ahead a few miles, to make sure that there were no fresh obstructions. Waiting for the wagons to catch up, which took a long time as the ascent was slow, time consuming and back breaking. Involving at times the people travelling along, to get down and push the wagons, through ruts and holes, in which the wheels continuously stuck.

Breakdowns took place in the older wagons, perforce they had to stop for repairs. At such times, makeshift campfires were made, with coffee brewing. Will’s Studebaker wagons, the Prairie Schooners, were half the weight of the traditional wagons, designed and constructed far better than the other wagons, they required a team of four oxen only. These were standing up to the travails of the rough route, far better than the other wagons.

Finally three days later, due to delays caused by repairs, the wagons rolled over the crest. The descent was equally treacherous, since the wagons had no breaks. Each wagon, sometimes needed an extra set of ox teams drawn from the other wagons to help descend. Experienced teamsters got together, one or two in charge of the ox teams, whereas the others stood ready to poke logs and rocks in the path of the wheels, in case the wagons were to roll down out of control.

There was always an ever present danger of women folks getting their dresses caught up under the wheels and being dragged under to their deaths. The children and women folk were asked to move ahead and clear of the path of the oncoming wagons. All the men folk, Will, Merry and the Indians, pitched in, to get the wagons moving on the route.

The entire wagon train finally crossed the Granite Pass, the trail then jogged northwest to Goose Creek, from Goose Creek it headed south west down the creek for 35 miles till it hit the Thousand Springs Valley. This journey took four days to complete, since they all rested for a day at the springs, giving their ox teams a much needed rest after the grueling passage through Granite pass. Five days after leaving Thousand Springs Valley, the Wagon train entered the city of Wells.

In a meeting led by the experienced teamsters, it was decided that the wagons train would rest up for a week, to enable the ox teams to rest completely before they tackled the toughest stretch of the trail, the Forty Mile desert, where there was no water!Water would have to be carried in leather or canvas bags, some would prefer to carry it in covered wooden kegs inside the wagons.

The halt would enable some of the wagons to be repaired, those that could not be repaired, would either be broken down to be replaced with better used ones, good enough for the arduous stretch ahead.
A couple of wagons were even cut in half, with only the fronts section and set of wheels being pulled by the oxen team. All inessential baggage was thrown out with only the most valuable to be carried.

In the meeting, it was let known to all, that the there would simply be no stopping for stragglers or wagons which broke down, simply because it would delay the entire train, who would then have to collectively endure the scorching sun or bitter desert cold. The aim was to get over the other side as quickly as possible.

With this dire warning in mind, the wagon folk set about their tasks of preparing themselves for the grueling trip ahead.Will’s wagons and oxen teams were in fairly good shape, the rest would do them good. A couple of wagons needed minor attention otherwise they would be the fittest to cross the Forty Mile Stretch.

Merry and Will, after supervising the minor repairs, decided to ride into town for a break. Merry cautioned Will before entering the town, a warning he took quite seriously. He was now dressed in fringed buckskins, with a coon cap. A frazzled beard, softened his sharp features. Anybody knowing him at Rafter, may not be able to recognize him easily. Still, he changed his horse to the line back dun, hitching his holster to a more comfortable position, keeping the other revolver tucked behind his belt at the back.

There never was a day when he had not practiced his pistol skills, drawing from his holster and pulling out the belt revolver with his left, his motions were smooth and well coordinated. Now he could hit with unerring accuracy at whatever object he aimed. His skills were as good as Merry’s, if not better in accuracy, particularly while drawing from the hip or from behind his back with his left.

Merry chose to ride ahead, while Will followed in a roundabout route, to enter Wells an hour after merry had reached the town. Walking his horse into the furrowed dusty street, he saw Merry’s mount, tied to a hitching rail outside a saloon.

Tying his horse, he looked casually around the street. It was full of miners and would be miners, some lumber jacks, traders, and the ever present emigrants drifting in and out of stores.

Dusting his clothes with his cap, he pushed the batwing doors to enter the saloon, no different from the many which dotted the frontier. Scanning the room, he spotted Merry, sitting on a corner table with a ferrety looking individual. Deep in conversation, their glances met, Merry’s slid away without acknowledgment, a signal that Will shoukd not approach him.

Will took a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses, moving to a corner table facing the bar and the door. Toying with his drink, he looked around to see any faces he recognized, there were none. A couple of glances from nearby table occupants, were merely curious, nobody showed much interest in him.

His attention was drawn to the far corner of the room, where a poker game was in progress, attracting the attention of a few onlookers who stood and watched with avid interest.

The pile on the table represented a goodly sum, off the four players, three were ordinary frontiers men, the fourth was a handsome slim faced mustachioed gent, with a pearly vest, gartered up silk sleeved shirt. He sat smoking a cigar, while coolly gazing at his cards and opponents.

Two folded their cards, while the third stared at his hand, the pile and at the gambler alternatively. It looked as if the gambler had upped the ante. To which his opponent was clearly hesitating in deciding between matching the amount or folding up.

Throwing his cards down on the table in disgust he folded his arms, belligerently staring at the gambler, who coolly removed his cigar, placing it on the ashtray while scooping the money with his left.

“I wanna see them cards you have mister” growled the fellow.
“No”!
“No?”
“No!”
“Aw cmon Gary, you ve thrown in yore hand already,” remarked his companion gently.
“How come this feller, been winning so much all evenin?” “Something nots right”, he spoke loudly, drawing the attention of those in the room. A few chairs scrapped as those behind the gambler and the antagonist withdrew, just in case the argument came to a boil.
“You accusing me of anything?” Came the silken smooth reply from the gambler, who had now picked up his cigar. A slow taunting smile creased the handsome face, the eyes were now sharper, though he still sat in a relaxed manner.

The aggrieved party, clearly a miner, slowly stood up, he had a Le Mat revolver stuck in his belt. He glowered at the man opposite him. Before he could speak, the gambler, who now leaned back, spoke to his companions who were clearly disturbed by the scene.

“Why don’t you fellows, take your friend away, afore he gets himself killed?”
“Mister”, said one, we are a goin, we don’t want no trouble”, so saying he showed his hands moving them away from his body.
“C’mon Garry, lets git goin” said the third, putting a restraining hand on Gary’s shoulder. Gary glowered, shrugging his friends arm, he turned away. The three made their way out of the saloon. Conversation which had stalled till then, resumed gradually.

The gambler counted the money and got up to leave, Will noticed the Colt on his hip, there was no way of knowing whether he had drawn the gun under the cover of the table cloth.

The gambler made his way to the bar, ordering a drink, looking around the room casually, his cursory glance passed
Will, then came back to study him briefly before moving on disinterested.

Had he seen a slight stiffening around the fellows eyes, or was he imagining it. Thought Will, who continued to toy with his drink, while keeping the man under observation, from the corner of his eyes.
Without another glance, the man downed his drink and walked out of the saloon, pausing briefly at the batwing doors, to scan the scene outside before stepping out and moving sideways. From the window of the saloon, Will saw the man walk a short distance, lighting a match with his left hand, he relit his cigar, flicking away the match. After a moment he passed out of sight.

Merry loomed over the table, taking a seat besides him, he helped himself to the bottle and spare glass. “That there is John Darcy”, “Gambler, gunman, some say his gun’s fer hire.” “Whatever, that gent is as cold blooded as a rattler and a very dangerous man.” Spoke Merry.
“Been known to hire his gun, to some mine owners down Californy way, done a spot of killing at Placerville.” “Drifted in here a coupla days ago, seems to be doin nuthin much but play cards n ride around town, lookin at the wagon trains”.
“Says, he wants to hitch a ride with one back to Californy”.
“Iffin that his play, then he looks pretty much waitin fer a particular train, cause a couple left yesterday n today mornin”.
“Maybe he is waiting for us?”
“No tellin”.

Finishing their drinks, Will expressed his desire to buy some dry powder and shot. Walking out of the saloon, they looked up and down the street. Darcy was nowhere in sight. Mounting their horses they left them with the hostler at the barn with a corral at the back.

Crossing the street they walked into a store which advertised sale of ammunition and guns. Placing their order, Will glanced out of the window to see Darcy appear from inside a building opposite the store, another man was along with him, they seemed to converse briefly, both looked at the store which Will and Merry had entered.
The two parted, the former walked purposefully towards the barn. Darcy, tossed his cigar aside making his way towards their direction.

Will murmured a warning to Merry. Whatever was planned by Darcy went up in smoke, halting a few steps onto the street. His attention was drawn to Garry the miner and his two friends, who stood on the opposite side.
Garry’s friends were trying to talk a still angry Gary out of whatever he was hell bent on doing. Using the distraction, Merry beckoned urgently to Will, gesturing him to follow him around the counter. Will broke his gaze from the scene, following Merry, they opened a door at the end of a short passage, which led to the back of the building.
Will spoke to Merry in a low voice, as they gingerly walked between the trash accumulated at the back of the building. “I saw one of Jacob’s men heading towards the barn.” Merry nodded, pausing to get his bearings trying to locate the barn. “Alright, kid I am a going in the barn, you try n get in from the back.”

Together they continued along the back of several buildings, till they came in sight of the barn, standing at the end of the street. Merry, loosened his gun, moving away from the back of the building behind which they were standing, he walked slowly towards the barn, whistling a carefree tune.

Will waited till Merry came to a stop in front of the open door of the barn. Hoping, that if there was anybody waiting inside, his attention would be drawn towards Merry.
Stepping away from the building, he ran lightly across to the back, looking for a way inside.
An open window on the top was just within his reach, if he climbed onto the corral bars behind the barn. Slowly, so as not to make too much noise, thankful that he had worn moccasins on the day, Will levered himself through the window.

Down below, Merry, who had drawn his Dragoon Colt, stepped quickly inside the barn, taking a couple of quick steps towards an empty stall, over which he scanned the dark interiors of the barn. It was quiet, barring the snuffling of horses feeding. A few eyeballed him, twitching their ears in his direction and back.

Will was on his knees on the loft, breathing slowly, ears straining to hear any sound. A slight muffled sound to his right indicated the presence of somebody. Crawling towards a bundle of hay, he slowly peered around the corner. A man was sitting on his haunches at the far end of the loft, he was engrossed in looking out of a small window overlooking the street.

A rifle stood within reach, propped against the wooden wall. Drawn by some sound below, he shifted his attention downwards, trying to see through the loosely spaced boards of the loft. Merry, unaware of the man above had moved out of the stall, walking cautiously, checking each stall, one of the occupants shied. Merry froze.
It was probably this noise that had drawn the attention of the marksman in the loft. Spying movements below, the man drew his own pistol, the barrel tracking Merry’s head.

The sound of a hammer being full cocked surprised both, the assassin as well as Merry below. Both froze at the sound, Merry looking upwards trying to locate the sound, clearly now at a disadvantage since he could not see anybody above and behind him.

“Drop the gun” Said Will, who had risen from his position drawing his own revolver. Hearing his voice, Merry, dived to his left behind the partition wall of an empty stall.
Confused by the noise below and completely out maneuvered by Will, the man placed his pistol on the floor, rising to his feet with his arms away from his body.
“C’mon up Merry” called out Will. Merry, got to his feet making his way to the end of the barn, climbing up the ladder to the loft above.
“We got a spring chicken here”, remarked Will, as Merry climbed up. Covered by Will, Merry walked up to the man, without further ado, he crashed the barrel of his pistol on the fellow’s head. Stunned, the man sagged to his knees, holding his head with both hands. A second clout at the back of his head, removed him from action.

Will holstered his revolver, walking quickly to the window through which the man was peering out. He saw Darcy, emerging from the store, with a nonplussed look. Distracted by the three miners, he had to wait till Gary’s friend had pulled him away to a safe distance. By the time he crossed the street and entered the store, Will and Merry had already reached the barn.

Walking through the store and moving past each customer, checking everybody he slowly turned around, completely surprised, moving back to the entrance he emerged onto the street, completely unaware of the turn of events in the Barn.

Checking both ends of the street, he slowly walked towards the barn. Midway, he stopped as another man joined him. Will and Merry exchanged looks, Will nodded in the negative, indicating that he had never seen the fellow before.

Darcy and the man, conversed briefly, both looked towards the upper story of the barn. Seeing no movement, Darcy spoke to the man besides him, who broke off, walking quickly towards the barn. Darcy himself turned and headed towards the saloon.

Both climbed down the ladder, Merry cat footed to the side of the stall nearest the entrance, this hid him from the view of anybody entering the barn. Will too ducked into a nearby stall, both waited in anticipation.

Slow footsteps approached the barn, the figure of the man silhouetted briefly on the threshold, before the man entered calling “Toothy?” “Where are ya?”

Coming almost a few feet from where Merry was crouching. The man took a few more steps, hearing a slight rustle, he turned towards the noise made by Merry rising from his position, fist cocked. Difficult to recognize the rising figure, mistaking it for his companion, he called out once again “Toothy?”

Merry’s fist caught him flush on the jaw, stumbling under the force of the blow, he lost his balance to crash against the side of the barn. Struggling to rise and reach for his belt gun at the same time, he could do little to prevent the barrel of Merry’s gun from crashing against his temple.

Will joined Merry who looked over the crumpled figure. Trussing him up they dragged him to where his companion was lying equally bound and gagged.
“Take a peek n see what our friend is doin?” Said Merry. Will looked from the side of the entrance, after a while he spoke. “Seems to have gone on into the saloon, probably waiting for his friends to join him there.” Chuckled Will. “So what do we do now?”
“Waal, we can’t leave em ere, either Darcy will come lookin or he be wonderin Where these here fellers gone, he sure must be scratchin his haid, wonderin where we’ve gone too.”” He aint no fool, sooner or later, he is comin ere himself.”
“Let him stew then, look there’s a hay cart, lets dump these fellers in it, cover them with hay, hitch our horses and ride out of here, we could take the side road.”
“Alright lets git”

Together they dumped the two still unconscious figures in the cart, Will covered them with hay, while Merry hitched their horses. Driving the cart out slowly they managed to turn it around the corner of the barn, raising them to a trot as they moved away from the town.

Travelling away from town they made towards where the Indians were camped. Reaching the camp, Will briefly narrated the matter to Man Who Walks Tall, who nodded, beckoning other braves to join him in unloading the bound and now very much conscious figures.

At the sight of the Indian braves, their eyes widened, they tried to speak, succeeding in making guttural sounds around their gagged mouths. The Indians, hefted them onto their ponies, led by Man Who Walks Tall accompanied by Will and Merry, the small band rode deeper into the hills.

They made camp near a small stream in the hollow of a hill. The Indians went about lighting a fire, Merry and Will, pulled their saddles free, lying propped up on the saddles over a ground sheet. The two relaxed, watching like roman emperors, as the Indians went about tying the two struggling figure with ropes, which were cast over a low branch of a cottonwood tree.

The two were then raised of the ground by a few feet with the rope tied to their wrists. The Indians set about building a small fire underneath the feet of the hanging men. The whole activity was conducted in a perfunctory manner, with both onlookers maintaining the same stoic expressions of the Indians. This casual manner increased the anxiety of the two rogues, who desperately tried to speak and shout through their gags.
Saliva dribbled from the corner of their mouths, their eyes which bulged out, trying to see what the Indians would do next.

“Maybe these fellows, want to speak” Said Will to Merry maintaining the drama. “What?” “Whats there to speak”. “They’ll be talkin soon enuff, lets git the fire a goin.” Replied Merry, who rose to retrieve a coffee pot and a skillet.
The Indians, lit the fire, the two figures struggled and yanked on the ropes. “What?” “You wanna say something?” Asked Merry. Emphatic mumbles burst forth. “Alright, give em some slack and untie their gags, lets hear what they hafta say, iffin we don’t like it, we can string em up and enjoy the roastin.”

The figures were lowered, allowing them to stand on their bound feet, the gags were brusquely removed. The two took time to get their voices back, eventually they wheezed and tried to speak but all they could do was croak. “Give em a drink” suggested Will.

One of the Indians gave them water. “Alright, you feel like talking or you want us to roast your feet”? Asked Will.
“Hey look you here, I aint got nothing to do with him, I just hired on, that the God’s truth.” Spoke the one they had clobbered last.
“Alright Toothy, if that’s your moniker, you I have seen running around with Burney and the lot, you seen what I done to Ike, so spit it out, who hired Darcy”.
“You are gonna kill me anyway”, “I got nothing to loose.” Said Toothy .
“Aye, ceptin your filthy life, but you can die quick or slow and screaming, which is it to be Toothy?”
“Aw you go to hell!”
“Suit yourself, string him up, don’t gag him, nobody around for miles anyway.” “This way, we can at least hear him if he changes his mind”.

They strung Toothy up, an Indian blew on the embers under the woodpile. Flames slowly licked around, a few shot up to reach hungrily for Toothy’s boots. Toothy, swung his feet around, but each time he did, his feet swung back through the now growing flames. Toothy gamely struggled on, as time passed, the effort of keeping his feet away from the fire was slowly and surely draining him of his strength.

The Indians added more wood, the flames shot higher, Toothy bucked, arching his body upwards, screaming oaths. His trouser cuffs caught fire eventually, Toothy howled in agony. The Indians sniggered, clearly enjoying themselves, Will gazed on with flinty cold eyes, Merry sat poker faced, watching.

With his boots smoking and trousers on flames, unable to stand it any longer, Toothy cried out to be let loose. “Only if you talk, Toothy, or we will burn your feet to charcoal.” Yelled Will.
“Yes, yes damn you, cut me loose, Oh! My God!” Toothy screamed. One of the Indians, held his feet away from the fire as they let him down on the ground, smothering the flames.

“Speak damn you, Toothy”, or I will string you up, by God I will you murdering swine!”
Unable to stand, Toothy collapsed on the ground with his eyes screwed shut, moaning in agony.
Will knelt close to Toothy and spoke, “Toothy, I don’t give a tinkers damn whether you burn or not, but I will ask you this only once, where are Jacob and Burney?”

Through clenched teeth, Toothy gasped, “They are in Oregon”, “we took the Oregon Trail, to loose you. Damn it man, cut my boots away, my feet, my feet, Oh God!
At a nod, an Indian cut his charred boots away to reveal Toothy’s burnt feet, which were red , the skin blistered away to reveal the red raw mass of flesh.
Toothy’s companion turned green and retched. Will, prodded, Toothy “Jacob hired Darcy?” After a while Toothy nodded.
“Where is Jacob’s gold mine Toothy?”
“I dunno, I swear to God,” Pausing he grimaced in pain, “but I heard em talkin one time, its somewhere in California.”
“Aye, what he says is the truth, said Toothy’s companion” “Cause we hired on, that is me and Darcy, in Placerville” “Twas the one eyed feller who done the hirin, Darcy checked on him later, him and the big one, they are in Placeville, last Darcy saw em.” “Darcy, said , he seen the two, together in a hotel. The big one, handed this here Burney with the one eye, a sack of gold.” “Same was paid as half payment to Darcy, the rest after the job was to be done.”

“Alright Toothy, one more question, where’s the rest of the gang?”
“There’s just four of us left, the rest died or left” The other three are with Burney, if they dasnt get word from Darcy, they will come to hunt you.” “I was to point yer out to Darcy and his sidekick, so I tagged along hoping to plug yer myself.”
“Waal, now aint that your bad luck Toothy?”
“Yer go to blazes” muttered Toothy, groaning in pain.

Will rose to his feet, “Let move out” he said to Man Who Walks Tall and Merry.
“What about him?” Merry indicated towards Toothy’s companion.
“We’ll take him along with us, he could help us locate Jacob and Burney”.
“What about me ?” Asked Toothy, raising himself on one elbow.
“Why we will leave you here, Wells aint too far, if you can make it on your feet.”
“What! No horse?”
“What chance you gave them poor folks, all these years?”
Toothy glared at Will.
“How many did you and your lot kill, Toothy?””You killed men, women and children”, “You don’t need a horse where you’r going Toothy, I’m gonna leave you here, alone, in the wild.”
“Shooting you would be too quick and merciful, I aint got no mercy for you, so walk on those damned laigs of yours and hope no mountain lions or wolves get to you first.”
Turning his horse, he said “S’long Toothy”.
“I’ll see ya in hell, damn your eyes!”

Toothy sank back, grimacing against the pain. Dragging himself to the fire he tossed a few sticks to keep it going. His feet were killing him, he cursed Will. He was thirsty, so very thirsty, maybe he could bathe his feet in the cold water of the stream.

He dragged himself to the stream, there he drank and drank, rolling over into a sitting position, he screamed in pain as he tried to bathe his burns. Sobbing he sank back to rest. There he lay for some time.

Night had fallen. Feeling thirsty, he rolled over to the stream to drink. Putting his hands under his chest, he bathed his face. Looking up, he saw a dark shape across the stream. A huge lobo wolf stood staring at him. For a long time they stared at each other, then other forms slinked from the bushes to join the first wolf, then another and another, till the pack stared licking their lips at the man opposite.

“Oh Jesus” Cried Toothy.

The Wolf, laid back his ears, snarling menacingly, its eyes, yellow orbs glared malevolently. The rest spread out on all side. The wolf leaped the stream, straight at Toothy’s throat. Toothy, thrust out an arm to protect himself, it was seized and ripped. Toothy cried out in terror as the other wolves leapt onto his body, tearing into him. One took hold of his burn feet and ripped the flesh out. Screaming and thrashing for his life, Toothy, desperately hit out, flailing arms and legs. This incensed the wolves to fever pitch as they tore at him from all sides.

Bellowing, Toothy, struggled to his knees, the Lobo leapt straight at his throat. Man and wolf tumbled over, rolling over and over. The rest of the pack piled on, a heaving snarling mass.

An owl, flew soundlessly onto a branch overhead, surveying the scene below, listening to the sounds of tearing flesh, the crunching of bones and an occasional snarl from a wolf.

[hvj1]

Chapter Seventeen

Merry rode into town the next day, discrete inquiries revealed that Darcy had disappeared during the night. Returning back to the Wagon train, Merry informed Will of the developments.

“The way I figure it, we spooked Darcy”. “I think we should lay of the town and look to crossin the forty mile, Bet yer a dollar, he’ll be a waitin on the other side”. “We’ll take his sidekick along, he aint goin nowhere in the desert anyway” said Merry.

Relieving Gerber of his weapons, for that was his name, they mounted him on a crow bait horse and ordered him to keep up with the wagons.The wagons pulled out a few days later, fairly stocked with water. They left a few hours before sunset, trying to make the best time during the night.

The Forty Mile Desert was a stretch of barren wasteland, a stretch of waterless alkali which had taken toll of men, oxen and wagons. The desert was seventy miles across and a hundred and fifty miles wide.
The loose, white salt covered sands made the going hard on humans as well as animals. Will and Merry took point, on either side of the wagon train. The skies were clear and the stars were out, the moon cast a surreal picture of the landscape.

A sea of white sand dunes, slowly shifting shape with the bitter cold wind blowing the sand up now and then to resemble dancing dervishes. The creak of the wagons and one’s own muffled breathing were the only sounds that kept the Argonauts tied on to reality. That and the physical exertion of lifting one foot and putting it ahead, followed by the exertion of putting the next foot forward.

Throats soon got parched to the dry cold air. The biting desert cold bit deep into the bones. Each incline, however slight, felt like a lifetime to surmount, the slow descent on the other side often brought the struggling and tired emigrants to their knees. If this is what it was during the night, they could fail to imagine what it would be during the daytime.

Half way through the desert, Merry croaked out the command to halt, he had to repeat it several times and ride down the line of wagons, repeating the order to make people understand, since they had turned into mechanical somnambulists.

The teams were watered only after their heaving sides had subsided. Their dull eyes matched those of their human companions. The teamsters prodded their teams forward, lest they cooled down too much to move further.
Reluctantly they pulled, followed equally reluctantly by the emigrants. Will and Merry road up and down the line, on either side of the wagon train, egging and helping stragglers to their feet.Later dismounting themselves, they led their horses to give them a much deserved rest.

The horizon to the east turned pinkish then red, the skies turning a brassy yellow as the sun rose. Details which were missed during the night were now thrown up in stark relief. It was difficult to compare which was more ghoulish, the weird nightly landscape or the white salty landscape littered with bones of the animals of other wagon trains which had crossed earlier.

As the sun mounted the sky, the heat reflected of the white alkali into the faces of man and animal. With rests for water and fatigue becoming more frequent, the journey lengthened to become an inexorable torture.
Items which held great value back home in the East, were now cast away wearily to lighten the load of the oxen, who hung their heads, with feet splayed out. A few of them collapsed. There they lay, not too far from death, since they were worn out pulling the wagons over the last six months.

Old men, children and women keeled over from the heat, perforce they had to stop, taking shelter underneath the wagons. But there was little respite even under the wagons, because the sun had baked the sands.

By the time they came to the last stretch of eight miles, only eight wagons of the original sixteen had managed it. Six belonged to Will, these too were gaunt and on the verge of collapse. Finally in the lee of a shallow ridge, the travelers and animals tried to find some respite.

All movements were dull and feeble, the men, women and children lay sprawled with eyes shut and lips cracked. Merry and Will sat with their backs resting against some rocks, with a ground sheet hitched above them to ward of the direct rays of the sun. From time to time they opened their eyes and looked around in stupor.

The distance remaining was eight miles, but the worst, since the sand here was thin and soft. Each foot the oxen would put down would sink eight inches deep. It was almost like a bog. Along this trail, lay unmarked graves and the skeletons of abandoned wagons and animals .

If this aint hell then what else is? Croaked a teamster.

Stirred by the first faint breeze, which was not hot, some of them opened their eyes to see the sun had almost set. The sands still retained their heat though. It was well past sunset that the first movements were made by men. Slowly dragging themselves up to drink and water the oxen.

The relief brought by the cool breeze was only temporary as the sands lost their heat, the air became chilly. Here and there the Argonauts got small fires going. Coffee, soup whatever they could muster they ate and rested.

Late past midnight, the oxen teams, which had partially revived, were yoked. A few hours before sunrise, they slowly moved out. Only ten wagons made it through the Forty Mile Desert, the remaining would catch up or be abandoned.

The sight of the Carson river and the distant Sierra Nevada’s snowy peaks, was a welcome relief, reviving the flagging spirits of the weary travelers. The Ox teams seemed to have caught the smell of the distant river as they too lifted their heads and ploughed on with more energy.

Finally the wagon train hit Ragtown, so named for the rags washed and drying on lines by the emigrants. Ragtown was hardly a town, a motley collection of tents raised by Argonauts as well as a few merchant men trying to do business with the travelers.

The group halted for a few days before tackling the Sierra Nevada mountain ranges via the trail forked by earlier emigrants.

Merry and Will decided to ride on to Fallon, a few miles away. Accompanying them was a morose looking Gerber, still without his guns and dead tired, since his horse had died on the way and he had to hoof it on his own through most of the desert.

Merry, who had travelled many times through the town, exchanged pleasantries with the hostler. By and by Merry asked the hostler about Darcy, to which the hostler replied in the affirmative, stating that his horse was stabled yonder and that Darcy had made his appearance two days ago.

Will drew his knife and placed it on Gerber’s throat. “Alright Gerber, where do you think he is?” Gerber’s eyes bulged at the knife across his throat. “He’ll be at the ‘Waterhole’. Look I’m a outta this, jest lemme go n you can do what you want.” Stammered Gerber.

“Sure, we will let you go, but if you are lyin….”
“Hell, man, how do I know iifin he is there in the same place, all I’m tellin, that’s the place we was last time.”
“Merry you come along the front, while I’ll take the rear, you can shoot him if he tries anything funny.”
“Now lookit ere….” Merry shoved Gerber forwards, “C’mon yuh”

Will made his way to the back of the saloon, opening the rear door, he moved towards the end of the bar. Keeping himself in the shadows, he observed the men in the room.

Merry and Gerber stepped in, Merry side stepped away from Gerber, taking a place at a corner table near the entrance.Gerber, stood uncertainly for a moment, looking around the room, till his gaze fell on Darcy playing a game of cards at one of the tables.

Darcy happened to glance up, his eyes met those of Gerber, who motioned to him to step outside. Darcy was no fool, he resumed playing, but he now sat upright, glancing now and then at Gerber, who had walked up to the bar. Darcy, folded his cards, looking very carefully around, he stood up and joined Gerber at the bar. Gerber in few words apprised Darcy of the situation.

Unbeknown to the two at the bar, Will stepped back, opening the rear door he let himself out. Making his way from the side of the saloon he walked onto the front, taking a position near the corner of the sidewalk.

Merry stepped out of the saloon, looking quickly up and down, he spied Will on the corner. “He is comin out from behind!” cried Merry. Will, quickly turned around, just in time to see Darcy emerge from the rear corner of the saloon with his gun drawn.

Will had drawn his gun while turning, Darcy saw Will and fired first, the shot hit the corner post. Will’s gun boomed twice, dust kicked up from Darcy’s shirt front, he took two buckled steps, dropping his gun while coming down to his knees. There he kneeled swaying slightly, before slowly toppling over sideways.

Will slowly moved towards the fallen figure. A breeze rolled Darcy’s hat away from his head, ruffling his hair. Darcy lay where he had fallen, his shirt front darkly stained with blood, eyes staring unseeing into the mud.

Gerber came around the corner, Will’s gun covered him, Gerber threw up his hands, he stared at the fallen gunman. Onlookers gathered around. Merry, spoke loudly, “That’s John Darcy, hired killer, he shot first and missed.” A slow murmur started amongst the growing crowd.

“You, see to it that he is buried” ordered Will to Gerber, who nodded dumbly.
Will thrust his weapon back in its holster. Without a backward glance he and Merry made their way through the crowd, collecting their mounts they rode back to the wagon train.

[hvj1]

Hello Readers,
I have a request to make to all of you, it is as follows;
1. I believe not more than 30 readers have read this on going series, in order to increase the reader circulation numbers, I need you to leave some comments after reading each chapter. This enables the topic to be on the board index current topics more often.
2. Critical evaluation is most welcome, as this would improve my writing skills or make the narrative more interesting.
3. Finally, I am writing this not for my pleasure alone, it gives me great pleasure to know that what I have written is being read, hence feedback spurs me on. All raconteurs appreciate an audience, they especially are fond of reactive audiences,even if the reaction is in the form of rotten eggs, it still goes a long way.
Best Regards and hopefully happy reading.

[dev]

Howdy,
How come its so quite in this yer town??
Let's all mosey down around the campfire, jitu throw another twig in the fire. C'mon settle down for what Will has to say.

[sunny0135]

hi ho,
Good going pardener...
waiting for more

[hvj1]

Hi Sunny Dev,
You will have to excuse the delay since I am caught up in a whirlwind business tour. Hope to provide the next chapter by the 15th of Feb.
Thanks for your comments
Best Regards

[ckkalyan]

Nice work hvj1 - I have been reading all the chapters with enjoyment as the story unfolds! Truly, well done mate!

[sunny0135]

Waiting anxiously for 15th....