Bones took a look at his old friend, they were friends weren't they? Bones hoped that despite the past and it's ugliness that he could still call Sandy Wilken a friend. Sandy seemed well, his hair was still long and hell, he was still alive.

Bones watched his much younger friend raise his glass in friendship. Bones took the glass in his shaky hand and held it high.

"To leaving the past behind Sandy, and to old friends..." Bones drank the whisky , it was warm and strong going down.

"I wasn't sure I'd find you at all Sandy, I took a chance. I remembered you were always threatening to give up your guns and strike out to the hills to root for gold. Yep, when things were bad you were always sayin' how you were gonna leave it all behind and become a panner or some such damn thing."

Bones eyes met with Sandy's searching to see if the English gunslinger was truly happy at all to see him. Sandy was always friendly, perhaps it's the English way but the young man was capable of shooting you dead while smiling the whole time. Hell, it was something that Bones always liked about Sandy, polite to the end.

"That business in Oregon City was a rough patch, things could not have gone much worse..."
Bones looked at the bar for a second, his hand was still clutching the empty glass in anticipation of another drink.

A bit of shame ran up the thin gunfighter's spine as he spoke to Sandy again.

"Jessica got loose from it but just barely, I don't know where she went but she's alive, or at least she was after Oregon City anyhow."

Bones pushed his filthy hair from his face and tucked some of it behind his ears.

"Shady Gulch is a town full of fool panners and diggers and I thought I might find you digging in the earth and sporting a long greasy beard and talkin' to yerself here. Looks like I was right..except for the beard."

Bones smiled, it was a weak smile but it was as good a one as the man could offer.

"To old friends starting anew." said Sandy politely acknowledging his old friend's toast and watched as Bones belted back his drink in what would take the younger man three swallows, his quivering hand steadying somewhat as the alcohol seeped into his sickly liver. His complexion had worsened over the past year, and Sandy knew without a doubt that Butch hadn't visited a doctor like he had advised. Of course his life was his own and Sandy wasn't about to try and tell the man how to live it, still Bones has proven himself a good friend and he sure as hell didn't want to see him drink himself to the grave.

Sandy reminisced about those those late nights round the fire dreaming about a simpler life. Bones had a way of knocking the romanticism out of things, but then again who was, Sandy kidding? He for damn sure wasn't no prospector. "I reckon our view of things change with our perspective, Bones." Sandy pondered, reciting knowledge common to all men of Butch's years, but the woodsman was young yet and hadn't yet accumulated the wisdom to learn from all his experiences.

When Sandy learned that Jesse was still alive he didn't know what to say at first. He suddenly felt more guilty than ever for leaving his companions for dead but at the time he just couldn't believe anyone could have survived that ambush. It was only pure dumb luck that saved him when they were driven into the mine shaft. When a shot grazed his head, spinning him into the mining cart he tripped the break and rolled to safety leaving, not by his choice, Bones and Jesse to fend off ten angry trappers.

Sandy had been thrown into the river when the cart derailed and battling against unconsciousness and the current he managed to pull himself to the far shore and safety. Since then, he had blamed himself for ever involving the two in his vendetta against Hudson Bay Company. Intercepting their shipments and stealing HBC money had made them targets and when a band trappers finally caught up with them the fight was heartless.

"Damn, I'm sorry I didn't go back for you Bones. I should of." expressed Sandy, his head hanging low with regret. At that moment the bartender returned to refill their glasses but Sandy ushered him away with a staying hand.

"Why don't you let me buy you something to eat, for old times sake." Said Sandy when he saw the disappointment in Bones' eyes and the craving. "Some food will do you good."

Sandy guided Bones to the table he had been sitting at previously, which conveniently was still vacant. He leaned his rifle against the nearby wall just within his grasp and waved over the barkeep. After he ordered his friend a meal and himself another nosh, Sandy filled bones in one the job that the owner of the saloon, Jack Douglass, had offered him.

"I'd keep the peace around here, and I wouldn't have to grow that greasy beard." Joked Sandy, "I just don't know if its me, Bones. You were right, I'm no panhandler, but that's not what brought me to Shady Gulch in the first place and I can't help but feel its a sign running into you."

The food came and Sandy grew quiet until the server went on their way. He grabbed one of the cups of coffee and placed it front of Bones. "Give that a try." he said, then he continued on with why he had come to Shady Gulch.

"There's an iron wagon that runs to and from Shady Gulch, owned by the self proclaimed marshal of the town, a man by the name of John McIntire. I admit that I did come to this town with the best intentions, but hearin' about that wagon sparked some interest and now running into you after all this time seems like fate. I figure all we need is a few more guns and we can knock over that wagon. What d'ya say, Butch?"

Bones took the hot cup from Sandy, the coffee was surprisingly good. Bones was suddenly very aware that he had not eaten in a day and was looking forward to the meal Sandy was providing. Bones took another long sip of the coffee and as he did so his mind drifted back to the year previous, He and Sandy and Jessica were riding through the hills outside of Oregon City with a gang of angry men at their heels.

The trappers were out for blood because the three of them had stolen a months worth of Hudson Bay greenbacks and damn it if those grubby skinners didn't want their money back! It was raining hard that day and the horses were slow going through the hills, a stretch of sticky clay and dangerous open mine shafts. If it weren't for the damn rain Sandy, Bones and Jess would been a territory away before those smelly skinners knew they had been cheated out of their pelt money.

But the three friends had to take a stand in the mouth of an open mine and they gave those trappers hell before Sandy was shot and disappeared into the dark mine. Bones and Jesse could not look for their friend until they ran the trappers off or killed them outright, so they continued to shoot it out with the band of angry men.

When the shooting was done Bones and Jesse looked for Sandy, they traced his movements to the river before they lost all sign. Convinced that no one could have swam the river with a bullet in their ear they gave up hope.

"Jesse was mad as hell when you got shot, she put down 4 of those skinners with a twinkle in her eye. I got 2 or three of 'em, I'm pretty sure. There was a lot of killin' done that day, it's funny how killin' folks becomes so easy at times and then again you never forget it."

Bones ate the food before him and listened to his friend talk about McIntire and the iron coach. As bones ate he kept one eye on the doorway, it was habit after all the things he done and enemies he had made in Oregon and California. Finishing a big fatty piece of bacon and in his best fake English accent he gave his answer.

"I'm currently between vocations Sandy and am happy to lend a hand."
With his belly filling with the warm drink and good food the thin gunfighter was getting some good color back in his face, Butch Brown had not felt this good in a long while.

Sandy was thinking about Jesse when Bones poked fun at his accent and British mannerisms and that brought back more memories. It felt like old times, back in the days when people knew him as 'Red Coat' and he tore into anyone who crossed him, but he had changed and long since lost the red jacket he had been known for.

Sandy smiled at Bones. "Well your English is improving. You used to say, 'vacations'." he quipped. Then he stood up, tossed a Seated Liberty dollar and a couple of Jefferson nickels on the table, grabbed his rifle and headed for the door. As he passed by Jack Douglass, he nodded to the man and said, "Thanks for the offer, but I have to decline. Be see'n you around."

Stepping out into the lamp lit street, the full moon was bright and one could easily make out the fine details of the buildings across the way. Sandy motioned southward. "I'm stayin' at the Fallon, there's a stable just down the road from it where you can keep your horse." he informed his friend.

Sandy then paused before walking back to the hotel and dug a few coins out of his money belt. "Here." he said to Bones dropping three rare, three dollar coins and Liberty dollar into the man's hand, "Ten dollars should keep that belly o' yours full, I know you're good for 't. Just don't go losin' yourself in a bottle, eh?"

On the veranda of the Fallon hotel, Sandy waited for Bones to stable his horse. He sat down on a swinging chair and stared up at the stars wondering where, Jesse was at that moment. He was happy to hear she had survived and now that he knew she was alive he realized how much be missed the ornery woman.

Goyahkla sat silently at the village fire, around the fire sat several warriors and village elders. As Goyahkla sat staring into the flames of the fire he called upon his power, the inner meditative spiritual place deep within his soul. As he meditated he passed into the "SPIRIT WORLD" First he came to a mulberry tree growing out from a cave in the ground. Before this cave a warrior stood gaurd, but when he approached without fear the warrior let him pass. He descended into the cave, and a little way back the path widened and terminated in a perpendicular rock many hundreds of feet wide and height. Directly beneath him he discovered a pile of sand reaching from the depths below to within thirty feet of the top of the rock where he stood. Holding to a bush, Goyahkla swung off from the edge of the rock and dropped onto the sand, sliding rapidly down its steep side into the darkness. He landed in a narrow passage running due westward through a canyon which gradually grew lighter and lighter until he could see as well as if it had been daylight; but there was no sun. Finally he came to a passage that was wider for a short distance, and then closing abruptly continued in a narrow path; just where this section narrowed two huge serpents were coiled, rearing their heads, hissed at him as he approached, but he showed no fear, and as soon as he came close to them they withdrew quietly and let him pass. At the next place, where the passage opened into a wider section, were two grizzly bears prepared to attack him, but when he approached and spoke to them they stood aside and he passed unharmed. Goyahkla continued to follow the narrow passage, and the third time it widened and two mountain lions crouched in the way, but when he had approached them without fear and had spoken to them they also withdrew. He again entered the narrow passage. For some time he followed this emerging into a fourth section beyond which he could see nothing: the further walls of this section were clashing together at regular intervals with tremendous sounds, but when he approached them they stood apart until he had passed. After this he seemed to be in a forest, and following the natural draws which led westward soon came into a green valley where there were many Indians camped and plenty of game. There USEN the one God that watched over all of creation stood and beckoned Goyahkla to step forward and walk with him.

As they walked Goyahkla heard a voice in his mind say “No gun will ever kill you,” it said. “I will take the bullets from the guns of the Mexicans and the White Eyes… I will guide your arrows and bullets. I give you N’daa K’eh Godih ( A prayer power that worked on the minds of Goyahkla's enemies to make their bullets miss their targets and turn into water. ) Goyankla now return to my people and lead them wisely...... protect my people and the lands I have given them .........” Then Goyahkla saw a vision of his wife, children, mother, sisters, all his people that had been murdered and all those warriors that had fallen in battle ................ Usen then said to him "Lead our people to the Sacred Mountains .... from there drive the Mexicans and White Eyes from Apache Lands." A vision of an iron coach drawn by eight horses appeared to him.

With a shower of sparks from the village fire Goyahkla stirred and returned from the Spirit World. He looked at those gathered around the village fire and stood slowly "I have used my Power and it has told me we are to leave this place. We go to the Sacred Mountains . From there USEN will aid us as we drive all the White Eye and the Mexicans from Apache Lands. USEN has given me N’daa K’eh Godih. Now go and sleep, tomorrow we leave this place." Goyahkla then turned and walked off into the darkness.

Maddie had spent the evening visiting with Allison and helping her get ready for the morning rush of miners, ranch hands, and others passing through. They giggled as only young women will do both covered with flour by the time they were done. Mr. Fallon came in and simply shook his head at his daughter and Maddie, smiling. No two girls could be more different the two of them. Allison was blond, blue eyes, pale skin and dressed in dresses. A true girl. Maddie was dark haired, golden skin, slanted bright blue eyes and dressed in pants or split skirts. A tom-boy through and through. And yet, they were the best of friends and he was grateful for it.

Ted Fallon remembered when his little girl sank into herself after her mother was killed by bandidos. He had just bought the hotel and was fixing it up, getting ready to open it to the miners. They lived just a mile out of town in a small 3 room cabin when the attack came. Ted was in town and found his wife lying in the yard.......dead. Allison he found later in the crawl space under the small cabin. She was 9 years old and scared to death. He moved them both into the hotel after that and a few years later, after the town had grown, he bought a small house for the two of them next to the hotel. It was then that Allison had met Madison Keegan and the persistant yet friendly girl brought Allison out of her shell and made her smile again. Ted would always be grateful to Maddie for that.

"Maddie, you're gonna have to bathe before you go to bed tonight. You look like a ghost with all of that flour all over you. So, go on. Get a change of clothes that you keep over at the house and I'll get the tub hauled in here next to the stove so you can clean up. Then Allison, you can clean up and both of you hit the sack."

Both girls giggled as Maddie headed on out to their house. Ted would never understand why Maddie wouldn't just stay with them when she had to stay over in town, but he didn't question her about it either and because she was Allison's best friend he only charged her half the room fee.

By the time she returned the tub was positioned in front of the stove. It wasn't a big tub, only 5 foot in diameter and about 3 foot deep, but it would get the flour off of her and out of her hair. The water was heating on the large kitchen stove in 3 large pots and as they heated, Allison poured them into the tub along with some cool water to cool it down a little. Closing the door behind him, Ted stayed out in the dining area while Maddie bathed and then Allison. Once clean, they hollered at him and between the three of them, they got the tub back outside and emptied.

"Well, I'm gonna head on up to bed. Thanks for the bath, Mr. Fallon...I'll see you in the morning Allison. Good night."

As Maddie made it to her room, she lay down unable to sleep as she thought about her encounter with Jake. She knew she'd been wrong in blaming him for the fallen warrior's humiliation and would apologize to him in the morning. Her pa had been telling her she needed to start thinking before speaking, but her temper usually got the better of her before that. She smiled to herself, closing her eyes, hoping that sleep would come as tomorrow would be a tiring day.

The ornate blade glimmered in the moonlight. To pass the time, Sandy whittled a piece of wood with his old military knife, an antique, crafted in the year 1753. It was his grandfather's knife, and once upon a time it was bright red with the blood of Huron when the reputable British soldier single handedly killed five braves with it when their fort was attacked. Sandy had made peace with the blades history a long time ago, and since then he has used it on anything from four legs to two with no prejudice.

The patter of light foot steps caught his attention and glancing over his shoulder Sandy noted a pretty blonde haired girl running into a neighbouring house. He recognized the girl as Fallon's daughter, and also caught sight of three ornery looking men lurking in the shadows of a darkened porch across the way. Making sure his Remington could be drawn quickly if needed, he ensured the girl made it back into the hotel safely. The girl was coming age and it was only a matter of time before the dogs began to circle. He had seen that wolfish look in the eyes of men before, a sickening bestial stare. If Jesse were with him, she'd put them all out without so much a thought as one would to kill a wasp. Insignificant pests with stingers, that's all they were to her. Sandy of course saw her point, but he had always been the more cautious of the trio and just made sure to keep an eye on the lurking coyotes.

The lilting laughter of young woman echoed in the night. It might as well of been a dinner bell. Sandy looked over and saw the three men advancing on a young couple out for a night stroll and knew at that moment that before the night was done there'd be at least on less wolf in this town.

"Hey thar, perdy lady." Called one of the men.

The young man courting the woman, wasn't a gun fighter. It was quite evident that the gun on his hip was more for show and he'd most likely shoot himself in the foot or the fine filly he was with in the rump if he drew it. The couple simply tried to avoid the men, but they were quickly corralled, and Sandy knew that it was only a matter of moments before the young man got himself killed and the woman scarred for life.

"Your lady's very fine, my boy." Said one of the bandits to the young man, "Too fine for the like's of you". The pig eyed, grizzly faced bandit then turned his eyes to the woman, "Wouldn't you like to know what it's like to be with a real man."

"Real man? All I see is three dogs." Growled a voice with British undertones from behind them.

The three men turned to see a tall, long haired man in a buck skin jacket, his right hand brushing the pistol at his hip. Now, Sandy wasn't much of quick draw, he was a sharp shooter, but he just couldn't allow these pigs to get away with what they were about to do. He'd for sure get one, maybe two but after that he was a dead man. His only hope lied in the timely return of Bones.

"You must be tired of livin'." Said one of the men, while the other two laughed.

Sandy stood his ground, his expression calm, his body relaxed, while the couple made a hasty a get away, running into the Fallon hotel.

"You know who we work fer?" Shouted another man, "McIntire. He owns this town and we do what ever the hell we wants ta do. Ya understand that? Now since'n you had to go and play the hero, we're gonna have ta make an example of ya!"

The men exposed their side arms and Sandy prepared himself. Where the hell was, Bones?!

Bones was smiling to himself as he tied his horse up, he was pulling his rifle and a change clothes from his saddle bags so he could take them up to the hotel if they had a room to rent. Bones could see that there were a few people walking about in the moonlight, a few cowboys and a young couple.

Bones could hear Sandy's hard boot steps coming off the porch of the hotel, the steps were quick and deliberate. "...three dogs..." Sandy called the men, they had identified themselves as men in the employ of this big hat McIntre, Bones Brown was already working on some deep dislike for this man he had never met.

Bones walked slowly from behind his horse and was now just as far from the three cowboys as Sandy but was a good 20 or more feet off Sandy's shoulder. Bones had put his gear down near his horse and walked towards the men with his raggedy duster pulled back behind his twin pistols, Bones' hands rested loosely on the guns, there was no doubt that the thin man was ready for a fight.

"It's been a while since I priced pine, but if I recall to build a box for a full grown man ran about 6 dollars. Does that sound about right Sandy?"

Bones smiled at his friend, his eyes still fixed on the three thugs.

"This big hat you work for is gonna be real sore about the pine money he's gonna have to pay if you pull those irons at your side."

There was not a hint of jest in Bones' voice as he addressed the men, his long thin fingers hung loose on the worn leather of his belt just above his guns.

"Damn old man, why don't ya crawl back into yer bottle before ya fall down." Jibed the youngest of the three hoodlums when the gaunt, thin man made his coffin comment.

A round of laughter then ensued at the expense of Bones, but one man was silent. The oldest of three, a gruff looking burly man with a thick black beard regarded the thin gun fighter, licking his lips as if trying to draw a stray memory out of the air. His eyes wandered between the two men for a moment, then in a low, rough voice called out to Sandy, "Tell me yer name stranger."

"Wilken." Answered Sandy in a calm voice, all the more relaxed now that Bones had arrived. He'd never seen the man out drawn and now that he was at his side he was as confident within as he appeared out.

The black bearded man's eyes flashed over to Bones. "Priced pine?" he repeated as recognition flooded into them and looked like someone walked over his grave, "Ya ever been through Oregon City?" he quickly asked Sandy.

When Sandy nodded, the man paled. "Red Coat Wilken." he announced, then his eyes shot over to the thin gun fighter, "That'd it make you Bones Brown."

"Well I'll be damned." Exclaimed another of three men, recognizing the names.

"Well I don't care who in the hell they are." Said the youngest, with a nervous smile, "This here's our town and they did cross us, and what happens when people done cross us, Wil?"

"They end up dead, kid." Wil answered, clenching his jaw angrily at the fact that Little Pete appeared to have more sand in his veins than he and Blackie, but the older man knew what they were up against. Wisely he closed his jacket and took a step back.

"Com'on boys, let's git outta here." Advised Blackie, but his two companions held their ground.

"You go tuck tail and run, Blackie. Me and Pete'll take of these two bit gunmen." Growled Wil.

He had so much as been called a coward, and Blackie fumed. He still continued to leave though, because he knew that if his friends didn't leave, Bones the grave digger would bury them both. They'd be lying in their grave and he'd be alive, and nothing they said would matter anymore. "Be see'n ya boys.", he said as he slowly backed away from the impending gunfight, turned and walked away.

"If I were you, I'd leave with your friend." Said Sandy.

"Shut yer mouth!" Roared Wil, "I'm not runnin' from the likes of you!" He then shot a look over to Pete, letting him know that he was going to draw on the grave digger.

The young boy swallowed hard and prepared himself to draw on the one called Wilken. It was obvious that he had never drawn on an experienced gunfighter and the boy began to perspire while, Sandy cooly awaited the boy to make his move.

"You can walk away kid. Nobody has to die this night." Sandy told the boy.

"Yer wrong! You do!" Screamed the boy as he reached for his pistol, unfortunately mis-gripping the handle. Wil, reached for his colt simultaneously, swinging his gun out of the holster toward Bones.

The older cowboy called Blackie by his 'friends' had recognized Sandy and Bones and had wisely backed out of the inevitable gunfight. Bones listened to the taunts and empty boasts of the two remaining younger cowboys as they prepared their challenge. As the undisciplined hands of the tough talking men drifted to their guns Bones Brown already had a hold of his.

The sound of iron sliding against stiff leather sounded at Bones' sides as his twin long barreled Colt Dragoon pistols slipped from their holsters and into the night air. Old instincts took over as thin arms straightened out and long fingers pulled on triggers.

Bones always thought that a gunfight was a lot like getting your picture made, there was the flash of powder and a lot of smoke but unlike a picture sitting, a gunfight was over real quick and nobody was smiling at the end.

Powder flashed in front of Bones as his pistols sounded, temporarily paining his bloodshot, aging eyes. It made little difference however for the 44 caliber slugs were in the air now, 50 grains of powder pushing them at their target. Bones' shots landed near the waistline of the the thug called Wil. One slug struck the cowboy in the forearm as he was trying to level his gun, his ill nourished bones shattered like shortbread as the round struck him in the meaty part of his arm just inches below his elbow. The cowboy spun to his right, his weapon flew from his hand as a bolt of raw white pain traveled from his forearm to his fingers.

The second round entered the man's body just above his gun belt on that same right side, the slug bore at a slight diagonal through the soft flesh of the man's belly, coming to rest in his ill treated liver. The cowboy finished his spin to the right and fell hard to his side, he cried out as he rolled to his back. Blood as black as pitch was staining his shirt and dungarees on his right side as his liver began to give up it's dark humors.

There was a good deal of smoke lingering in Bones' line of sight but the thin man was more than a little sure he got his man, as he had many times before. Beyond the gray smoke Bones could just make out the man lying in the street. His cries brought Bones out of the fog of instinct, thinking of his friend, Bones spun and looked to his left to see how Sandy had met his own challenge.

As the brash young boy, known as Little Pete, fumbled with his pistol he froze as his adversary smoothly drew his Remington and pointed it at his heart. Even before that, however, the thin man that Blackie had called Bones Brown, and drew two pistols to Wil's one before the man could even clear the barrel of the holster. Pete watched in horror as blood erupted from his friends body, and screaming in pain the man teetered and began collapse.

"Please don't shoot me!" Screamed the boy, pleading for his life.

The tall man raised his gun high, leveling it with the boy's face and the kid literally fell to his knees in a quivering mass crying for him not to shoot. Sandy had never intended to kill the kid, and as fate would have it, he didn't even have to wing him, although for the terror he inflicted on the young couple he did deserve something.

Sandy looked over at Bones, then down at the dying man, spitting up and choking on his own blood. Soon he'd be dead and Bones would live on, Sandy had seen this outcome many times before and had come to expect it. The man beat his opponents not just because he was fast but because he'd looked death square in the eye so many times they were old friends, but then Bones had made his acquaintance long before he ever picked up a gun.

Nodding to Bones, Sandy strode toward the blubbering kid and mercilessly drove the handle of his pistol across the bridge of his nose. There is a horrible crack and blood spouted across the boy's face as he fell back on the street.

"Toss your gun!" Ordered Sandy.

The boy complied, whimpering from the pain of his busted nose.

"Your damn lucky, kid. I ought a blow a hole in your gut for what you might of done to that young woman! Now get up and get lost!" Ordered Sandy.

The boy stood up and started to stagger away.

"You keep running boy, 'cause if I see you again," Sandy looked over at Bones, "I'm sending Death after you!"

Sandy holstered his gun and walked over to Bones. "Thanks." he said, then he looked down at Wil, who was just about dead. "McIntire's the law around here and this is one of his dogs. I don't suppose he's going to look to kindly on this. Damn, I was looking forward to a good nights sleep in a bed. So what say you old chum? Fight or flight?"

Bones watched as Sandy dealt with the kid, the young cowboy was practically wetting himself as Sandy drew down on him. The kid was no gunfighter, he fell to his knees begging for his sorry life. Sandy had him give up his pistol before breaking the kid's nose, the young man staggered away holding his neck kerchief to his bloody face.

That young cowboy did not know how lucky he was, Sandy Wilken was no quick draw artist but a man who did not pull pistols lightly, no Sandy Wilken was a man who put some thought into his actions and he knew very well how to put a man down with one shot.

Bones approached the man he'd shot, he could see the dark blood staining his mouth, shirt and pants.

"Ah hell Sandy, his blood's black, I shot him through his liver."
Bones had seen this before, in an effort to disarm his enemies Bones Brown had gotten good at a fatal liver shot. There was no joy in the thin gunfighter's words, he was just stating facts.

"I've put us in it now Sandy, this man will surely die and we will have to deal with all the hell this stirs up."

Bones' guns went back into his belt, he stared blankly at the dying man. He did not feel guilt for killing the man, on the contrary, any man who puts hands to a gun rolls the dice and nobody lives forever. However, the thin man felt bad for what this might mean for he and Sandy for trouble would come swiftly now, be it the local law or more of McIntre's soldiers.

"Who wears a real badge around here Sandy? They'll want to know what happened here."

Bones Brown was not what you call a law abiding citizen, now he was no outlaw but he sure did not feel obligated to live by the same rules that most folks did. If someone was looking to hurt him or those close to him Bones would strike first and not lose a wink of sleep over it. At the same time Bones knew that killing a man was a serious thing and that somebody would need to hear his side of things.

The wounded cowboy coughed his last breaths and fell quiet and still, dark blood running from his mouth, his eyes still wide open. Townsfolk were coming out of the hotel and saloon to see what the trouble was, they murmured quietly amongst themselves as they took in the scene.

"I just got here Sandy, I ain't running no more..." Bones said to his friend as he slid his Colts back into his belt.

Maddie woke to the sound of gunfire with a start. Jumping from the bed she ran to the window of her hotel room and saw a young man laying in the street, dead or dying. She then noticed the stranger from Jake's and another man standing next to him. Looking back over, she saw another young kid dropping his gun and taking off. She saw Mr. Fallon come out of his house next door to the hotel, glance at the scene and go back inside. Maddie stood at the window, watching and thinking. Her pa was needing some extra men to work on the ranch and help with protecting the horses and few cattle from the rustlers that had decided to attack the Circle M. Her pa knew it was McIntyre's way of trying to intimidate them into letting him on a piece of the action of the money they were making breaking mustangs for the military. The Keegan's had a strong dislike for McIntire and for now, were standing strong.

Having figured out what had happened in the street, Maddie had a plan forming in her head. They could use men like the two down in the street.....if they would be interested to working on a ranch. She would track them down in the morning and talk to them about it. Until then, she lay back down, sleep coming more quickly this time.

Sandy listened to the words of his old friend as he watched the man at their feet die, his thoughts ebbing away like the black blood that oozed from the mortal wound. He looked over his shoulder and regarded the people that emerged from the hotel. Among them was the young couple, the girl's eyes red as her boyfriend consoled her. Mr. Fallon was there too, nervously wringing his hands, fearing what McIntire would do to even score. After all, one of the men who just shot, William Lock, a prodigy of McIntire's was staying in his hotel and that just might give the man enough reason to burn it down or worse. Not that he was an unscrupulous man but he was as unpredictable as a rabid dog and could be just as vicious when it struck him.

When Fallon's and Wilken's eyes locked for a moment, the inn keeper bid a hasty retreat back into the hotel. Sandy then turned to Bones. "McIntire runs this town Bones," he answered, "and he's not gonna care that we shot down his man in self defense. We're out gunned and out manned here but over in Coyote Hills there's supposed to be a marshal. We'll tell him our story and let him deal with McIntire."

Sandy took a stride toward the hotel and looked back to Bones, "I'm gonna clear out my gear. Get the horses, I'll meet you round the side." he told his friend but Bones hesitated and Sandy could see a fire growing in the man's eyes. Pausing, Sandy nodded his head understandably, "We ain't running, Bones but we can't stand up to this man, at least not yet." he said, then gave the gunman a wry smile, one that Bones remembered always accompanied a plan.

Sandy strode into the hotel and found Fallon at the top of the stairs. "Fallon." he called.

"No, no, no. Leave me alone. I want nothing to do this. I want you out of here, now." Fallon said nervously, "You killed him. You killed Wil Lock! McIntire's going to be furious."

Sandy's heavy steps echoed through the hotel as he slowly stomped up the stairs toward the rambling man. "Stifle it Fallon." Said Sandy, his fine English mannerisms replaced with the gruffness of an outlaw, "He didn't give my friend a choice and you know it. Now I'm not askin' you to be a hero, but I need to know if there's anyone that can get me and my friend to Coyote Hills in the dark."

"Coyote Hills? Y-You're going for the marshal? Y-You'll never make it. People have tried before and McIntire always gets them, besides the fastest route is through Apache country and they're on the war path." Said Fallon backing up as Sandy climbed up the stairs toward him.

"We'll take our chances." Said Sandy as he opened up his room and gathered his gear and saddle.

"Look, I'm not a brave man. I have a daughter, I have to watch over." Pleaded Fallon.

"All I'm asking you for is the name of someone that can guide me to Coyote Hills." Repeated Sandy, "In a place like this there's always someone who know's the back country, now who is it?"

Fallon was reluctant at first to relinquish the name but then after considering what would happen if this man was still in his hotel when McIntire arrived he blurted out, "Keegan."

"Who?" Asked Sandy, prompting the man to elaborate.

"Ian Keegan. A horse rancher, he owns the Circle M. Eight miles west of town."

"Is this man friends with McIntire?"

"He most certainly ain't." Answered Fallon with bold certainty.

Sandy smiled when Fallon straightened and stood up to him. It was refreshing to find the man's spine.

"Thanks." Said Sandy then he headed down the stairs to meet Bones at the side of the hotel.

"Wait!" Called Fallon from the top of the stairs, "If you're really going to try and get the marshal, you'll need someone to get you to the ranch. Our daughters are friends, and Maddie's here right now, I'll fetch her for ya."

Sandy nodded gratefully. He was wondering how he was going to find the Circle M in the dark and a guide would be most appreciated. "I'm obliged." he told Fallon then went outside and found Bones with the horses round the dark side of the hotel.

While Sandy met up with Bones, Fallon made his way over to his house and rapped on his daughter's door. He made sure they were awake then explained the situation to Maddie. "These men might be able to stand up to McIntire, but they need to get to Coyote Hills and fast." he told her, "That's why they need your pa to guide them."

Mr. Fallon knew that Maddie knew the back country nearly as well as her father, but there was no way he was going send a girl along with two gun fighters in a race against McIntire. It was dangerous, and he knew Ian could take care of himself, still he worried about involving the man in this and felt terrible just thinking of what McIntire would do if ever learned of his involvement. He didn't even really like the idea of sending Maddie out with them to ranch. Unfortunately he couldn't think of any other way to get the men out of town, and he knew the girl could handle herself, especially on a horse.

As Sandy saddled up his horse, he told Bones the plan. That if this horse rancher, Keegan could get them to Coyote Hills before they could be intercepted, they could bring in the law, deal with McIntire then the iron wagon would be undefended. Shady Gulch would be rid of a tyrant and they'd be thousands of dollars richer.

"All we have do now is wait for this guy's daughter to show us to the ranch," Sandy mentioned as he leapt up onto his horse, "but we may have another problem and that's Dawson. This range rider got into some trouble in town and there's a posse out lookin' for him right now. They think he's headed to Coyote Hills and that's where they're headed."

Sandy tossed his scraggly hair out his eyes and smiled broadly at Bones. "Never said this was going to be easy."

Bones knew that Sandy would come up with a plan, the young man was the most level headed person he had ever known, and stubborn too. Bones could not help but feel that they were running away like cheap murderers but if Sandy said the marshal could be found in Coyote Hills, then Coyote Hills it was.

Bones went for the horses and put his rifle and clothes back into the saddle bags, and gathering up Sandy's horse he brought them back to the front of Fallon's hotel. A few people were still gathered to see what all the trouble was but Bones was not a man that was big on explaining himself. However he did make a brief statement to the small crowd of hotel patrons.

"You all get the undertaker out here to see to this man tonight, it would not be right him lying out in the street till morning."

By the looks on their faces Bones was sure that someone would get this done. As Sandy got on his horse he told Bones about the girl and how they would need her to find Coyote Hills in the dark.

"We've seen worse odds Sandy...and we're still here. All the trouble we've seen and lived through we should take up gambling." Bones said with a grin.

"It's times like this that I kinda wish Jesse was still with us..." The thin man said seriously as he rode along side Sandy.