"Hello Jesse, good to see you girl." Bones said with a smile.
"I'd buy you a drink but this place ain't yet open for business, besides it seems we may have company at any time."

Bones shot a look back to the doors of the saloon, the street outside was quiet.

"Sandy, Jesse I'm just about done with my coffee, it wasn't very good anyway."
Bones glared at the barkeep as he set his cup down on the bar.

"Jesse darlin, if you know anything about this marshal Barr now is the time to tell us about him. I'm runnin' out of patience sitting here and maybe the time has come for the three of us to take a walk to his office."

Bones walked close to Jesse and looked at her for a few seconds, he placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Damn it's good to see you."

The thin gunfighter seemed energized in the woman's presence, with Jesse back amongst them anything was possible.

"What do you think Sandy? Should we meet the marshal?"

The barred door that connected the office to the jail was sealed when a loud clang. Marshal Barr, sat at the edge of the desk for a while, his eyes focused on the Keegan girl for a moment but looking through her. If she was speaking, he didn't hear her, his mind was focused on the task at hand; dealing with the infamous 'Bones' Brown and 'Red Coat' Wilken. Dawson was a wild card and the marshall was thankful, the renegade cattleman's arrival was late.

Slowly Barr's head turned and the blue eyed devil settled his concentrated stare on deputy Murdock. Mitch knew that look well and had been waiting for it. Skillfully he tucked his small throwing knife back into one of the many small sheaths on his belt and headed for the door.

They walked slowly down Main street, making their way to the Silver Sage. The marshal carried his double barreled shot gun loosely at his side while Murdock remained empty handed, his eyes ever alert in a face that betrayed little emotion. When they were near the saloon, the two men stopped and Barr's deputized soldiers seemed to materialize out of the wood work, surrounding the building. The locals instinctively cleared away and began to lock their doors, anticipating all the hell to break loose as the men prepared to attack but the marshal calmly raised his hand and held them at bay.

Beaming directly through a narrow alley across the street, a trail of morning light blazed through saloon's entrance. The warm golden glow filled the large room and sparkled off of the freshly polished glasses and bottles behind the bar. The way the light played off of the floor and pale coloured bar unraveled the mystery of the saloon's namesake but then all grew dark. A man stood in the entrance. He wasn't by any stretch the largest of men, but he carried himself with the presence of a giant as he strolled into the saloon the shot gun at his side. Silhouetted in the bright light, his features were in shadow as he slowly moved into the center of the establishment. Only one other man appeared behind him, a smooth moving, soft stepping man who glided toward the bar where he perched like patient owl.

When the man reached the middle of the room the star on his jacket became visible and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes could be seen as they moved across the three outlaws.

"Pete." He called to the barman, "Why don't ya take ol' Hank outta here, if you would be so kind."

Pete reacted instantly. Placing the glass he was polishing down and walked quickly toward the old drunk in the corner and ushered the cussing man out.

"Ol' Hank's an amiable drunk but damn if he isn't ornery in the morning." Joked the man as he watched Pete wrestle the man out through the back then his eyes settled back on the outlaws. First on Sandy.

"Red Coat Wilken, sharp shooter," he announced then his eyes looked up to the thin man, "and that would make you the quick draw, Bones Brown." then his eyes drifted back down to the woman, "I don't believe I know your name, Miss..?"

"The names, Jesse, Jesse Rusch." She said her posture remaining relaxed in her seat.

The man nodded, "Well, as the three of you might have already figured, I'm the marshal 'round these parts. The name is Barr and don't take to kindly to outlaws waltzing into my town. It's bad for business and worst of all it makes me have to pick up one of these."

The marshall held up the shotgun with his left hand but did not point it, then he let hang low once more at his side. On his right hip his side arm was exposed, a low hanging draw that Bones recognized was designed for a quick snap shooting draw.

"Now I could a come in here, blazing away with shot but the dead aren't much ones for conversation, as I am sure you are all aware of." he said plainly, his eyes resting on Bones for a moment.

The marshall then moved closer to three. "Mind if I pull up a chair?", he asked as he went right ahead and grabbed a seat sitting an arm swing away from Sandy who looked positively baffled.

"Mitch." The marshal called to the deputy at the bar, "wanna bring me a cup of that there coffee." he requested, "anyone else?"

The silent deputy walked over with a cup and the pot and set them on the table, then quietly returned to where he had be before like a gargoyle returning to its roost.

"So the three of ya are probably wonderin' why I'd expose myself this and I can answer that quite simply. Ya see, I believe in research." Explained the Marshal, "I've been readin' up you two, and even you Miss Rusch." he revealed, "I'm what you might call, an 'opportunist', and well the three of you wreak of it, but before I start laying down my cards, any of you got anything to say?"

The marshal sat comfortably in his chair sipping his coffee. After all he was holding on the cards in the deck. The saloon was completely surrounded and the only way the outlaws would survive the encounter was through negotiation, of course the marshall had foreseen some the other devious paths they could take. He wasn't a fool, he didn't walk into these kind of situations without an ace up his sleeve

Bones was still on his feet, standing near Jesse when the Marshal entered the saloon. Bones' hands jumped at his guns as the man walked in with his deputy. A few shadows passed by the front windows followed by a few others that broke the long shaft on sunlight that was stretching from the street outside and through the saloon's double doors.

Bones realized that the saloon was surrounded, marshal Barr had thought his move through, there must be at least another half a dozen men just outside ready to shoot it up if they heard any trouble. Bones hands slowly moved from just above the polished wood handles of his twin Colt pistols back to his belt where they came to rest.

The Marshal was taking a seat as the nervous barman hustled the local rummy out the back door. Bones took a look at the man named Richard Barr, the man did not walk like your typical lawman, he seemed to lack the sense of self righteousness that most tin stars carried with them. No, Richard Barr walked with purpose and he wore his gun slung in a fast draw style very similar to the way Bones did.

If Bones had met this man in a different setting, he would swear that he was a salty gunslinger not a man responsible for public peace and safety.

As the deputy fetched Barr a fresh cup of coffee, he asked the three strangers if they had anything to say.

"The service in here is piss poor Marshal, a man can't even have an early drink and watch the sunrise in this wooden nickle town."

Bones said, with a perfect poker face.

The deputy called Mitch stirred in his seat but did not get up, the deputy's eyes drifted from Bones to the fresh wanted posters still sitting out in the open on the table in front of them.

The men ran out the Inn, some grabbing the horses tied on the side and back of A.N. Fisher Stagecoach Country Inn and the others toward saving the horses inside the burning barn stables. The marshal stepped out of the house and shook his head, he was pretty upset.

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!...he looked down at Sam and shook his head. The man who was supposed to be on guard but couldnt move because of the large bullet lodged in his thigh.

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ON GUARD and NOT TAKIN A NAP!

"I'm sorry Sheriff, I guess I dozed off for a few minutes."

A FEW MINUTES...the FRESH HORSES are GONE, the BARN IS ON FIRE & OUR WANTED Prisoner has escaped. Pulling out his gun, he pistol-whipped the man across the face.

Sam,Sam Sam...we go back a long ways. I watched your 7 yr old daughter grow up to be fine young lady after Mildred got sick and died. Shaking his head, I guess now she'll gonna need a man to teach 'er how to survive. She'll make a fine young hussy in my bar because I gave you a direct order and YOU FAILED ME!!!

"Sam, whipped the blood off his lip and pleaded...No no no don't hurt my baby, she's only 16. I'm sorry Sheriff, it won't happen again,I promise."

You're DAMN RIGHT IT AINT HAPPENIN' 'GAIN! Putting the pistol within 2 inches of Sam's head, he pulled the trigger without even a thought.

Turning, he looked at his gunmen on the horses and the rest pulling what horses were in the burning barn out. ANYBODY ELSE WANT TO FAIL ME!!!! I DIDNT THNK SO...

Bart, go get what horses are running across the desert and leave the raiding party. I think its time we pay Mr. Keegan a visit when we get back to Shady Gulch. Its his gawd-damn rengade injuns that Maddie is feeding on their worthless horse ranch!

McInTire knew what a perfect setting to blame the Keegans for this raiding party attack and watch them both hang. If he couldn't have Maddie, noone else was either. The worth of a hundred head of horses was so much less then stealing their ranch away from them. Buying the rights to mine and begin mining the silver n gold vains under the Keegan Ranch while living on the ranch would enable him to request protection and have the blue coats chase down the raiding parties.

*******************************

Bart and twenty men jumped on their saddled horses, that were tied off on the side of the house and ran off chasing the raiding party and the horses.

Marshal yelled, Git the horses attached to the wagon, git the woman and boy and burn the house down. we'll take them with us.

"But Marshal these horses are tired and some have severe burns. These are ones that we just ran across the desert to git here.

Pointing gun at the man who made the comment, DO IT!

Git the woman, the boy and burn the house down. We'll take them with us.

Marshal Barr smiled at Bones' comment as he rocked back and forth in his chair comfortably. "Well, there Mr. Brown. I have to take responsibility for that there ordinance. Too many rabble rousers stirrin' up trouble before I even had my first morning cup of coffee." he explained, then gestured over to the bar graciously, "Please help yourself if you care for a drink. It's on me."

Sandy and Jesse both sat calmly across from the marshal, but there eyes betrayed their thoughts as they both felt flicked each other a look of apprehension. It was evident that the marshal was scheming something, but what?

Seeing that he had the attention of the three outlaws, Marshal Barr nodded to his deputy and Mitch casually walked over to the doorway of the saloon and gave a wave. Marshal Barr, then purposely exaggerated getting comfortable in his chair and showed his cards.

"First off, I don't want to have to arrest and turn ya'll over to McIntire, that'd be a damn waste of fine talent, but that there hornswoggler calls the shots round these parts." Explained Barr, "When I heard that a quickdraw and rifleman were headed this way I saw a prospect in the making, so I'm going to give y'all a choice. I can arrest ya, or try ta, and we could have a blood bath on this fine morning or we can all be partners in a little scheme I've been cooking up."

Barr leaned back in his chair and patiently waited their response on his offer. Sandy and Jesse both exchanged silent glances, then there eyes settled on the senior member of their trio, relying on the older man's experience in this matter as they had always done.

Goylahkla and the other twelve raiders drove the stolen horses into a box canyon and into a corall constructed of mesquite and ropes. He then left four of the wariors gaurding the horses as he and the remaining twelve warriors joined another one hundred warriors hidded among the mesquite and rocks just above the entrance to the canyon and the corall.
He then istructed ten warriors to go back out into the desert and drag sage brush and mesquite behind their horses past the canyon entrance and south into the desert. Meanwhile, in the canyon the rest of the warriors waited until the twenty one cowboys rode at break neck speed into the canyon. After the cowboys entered the canyon and started to shoot at the warriors on gaurd, Golylahkla signaled the the warriors opened fire with their repeating rifles.
A hail of bullets rained down on the cowboys as they pulled their horses up and satrted to turn around and head back out of the canyon, firing up into the rocks. Ten of the cowboys were killed as they entered and six warriors fell to the cowboys bullets. As the cowboys tried to escape six more cowboys were killed and four more were wounded and fell from their horses, a lone cowboy made it to the mouth of the canyon before a bullet from a warrior struck him in the shoulder, as he rode out of the ambush.

Goylahkla, left all but two dozen wariors in the rocks and rode down into the canyon. Slidding off thier horses, Goylahkla and and the warriors walked up to the wounded men lieing on the ground. He told his warriors to strip the men naked, drag them out to the mouth of the canyon and stake them spread eagle in the sun. One of the men spat and said "Damn ya to hell you savage son of a whore. And damn you Bart for leading us into a trap."
Goylahkla glared at the two men and said "You follow fools! Why do you not leave Apache land? We did not tell you to come here. We do not want you in our lands. Now you see what will happen to all white eyes if they do not leave Apache land." Goylahkla then turned and jumped up on his horse followed by the other warriors. He raised his rifle above his head and the rest of the warriors mounted and rode out of the canyon. They were followed by the four gaurding the stolen horse, driving the horses before then and the warriors that had remained hidden in the rocks. The war party turned south and out into the desert.

(Response to Sin Tara's posting (bottom of pg 2)





TW felt trapped with the injun raiding party swarming all over the place. He wateched as McInTire's napping goon, startled, is shot in the leg. The warriors fired their rifles and hand guns at the Inn, while another was pulling down the corral gates, and yelped to corral the horses he planned to steal. One tall and mean looking warrior rode right up to TW and sort of laughed. He wore a blue smock and headband. He took a torch and throw it into the half-opened barn door. Then he turned and yelped a warrior's cry as he rode off.

A minute or so later, TW felt a someone standing behind him saying something "Hey, cowboy!! I'm gonna cut you loose, but you gotta follow me or we're both...." and then he fell to the ground. Tied to the barn and being beat up, his legs gave way.

"Now cowboy stay low and half-crawl outta here until were in the clear. See that ridge, I'll meet you there if were separated." TW nods. The warrior that threw the torch spotted and rode towards us. Its then, that TW noticed that the young chap with green eyes had a eagle shaped beaded necklace. well I'll be damn. A half-breed sticking his neck out fer me. When the warrior spottedthe necklace he nodded and rode off."

**********************

Chase led Ethan back to where his horse was tethered and they rode back over the ridge. "My name is Chase Jones and my friends are in trouble."


"Well that quite a story you got thar Chase. Sounds like this young lady needs to be put over my knee, pull down them knockers and give 'er a good spanking.

My names' Ethan, most call me 'TW', I'm a wonderin cowpoke who's been 'round these parts for only a few weeks...

Ah excuse me fer a moment...Ethan whistled for Lightening and the horse jumped over a boulder and came to a rest in front of Chase and TW. Thats my girl...checking to make sure the saddle is tight, TW slips his boot into stirup and slips onto Lightenings' back.



Let's ride and I'll tell you my story and what I know. My Partner and I were heading to Coyote Hills with 200 head of cattle. we figured on selling them to the highest bidder in town. When we ran short of supplies and my partner loss the bet and ended up going to Shady Gulch fer them supplies. This was 'bout a week ago and when he didnt return the next day, I knew something was wrong. I rode into town while my men watched the cattle in No Man's land. I had a quick drink, asked some questions 'bout my partner and I guess one of the deputies overheard the conversation and decided i was in town lookin fer trouble. The next thing I know, I'm bein challenged in the saloon with two gunslingin deputies. They wouldn't move out of the doorway when I politely decided I needed to get outta town and fast. When they didnt move and drawed their guns, I drawed too. I shot and killed both of them in front of a bartender in self-defense. Then hightailed it outta there and back to our camp. The herd was gone and my two men scalped and killed. I decided, I needed to git to Coyote Hills and find the law.

I've been shot at, chased by a possee and was headin in the same direction to Coyote Hills while mustering up whats left of my herd when I stopped at this stagecoach Inn. i ran into this sheriff McIntire, his gunslingers and that black iron war wagon."

"You know TW, Sheriff McIntire owns Shady Gulch and owns the mining company in town. He's a ruthless self-appointed gunslingin Sheriff that has everybody in his back pocket. "


Well I kind of figured as much, Ethan unfolded the four Wanted posters from his back pocket. I reckon you are going to need my help Chase, is there another way around that and into town?



If there in town already, there's a good chance we may be too late.i

McIntire wasted no time. He got his gunmen in front and back of the wagon, stuck the boy and woman on top of the wagon and looked down at his pocketwatch. Where the devil was Bart? This shouldnt have taken this much time to gather the horses.

WE CAN'T WAIT FOR BART to get back, he hollared. Make sure your hand guns are loaded as well as your repeating rifles. McIntire looked down and estimated what time he would show up in Coyoter Hills. he knew this would be the last time he would take this trip without the new Gatling gun mounted on the iron wagon.


The barn and Inn were burning and dark black plumes of smoke and ash filled the air for miles around. The woman cried as all her family possessions went up in smoke. From the box canyon, Goylahkla, and the warriors also saw two plumes of smoke as they yelped their victory over the white man warriors.

*************************************************


Riding hard the horses took the blunt of the hot ride pulling the wagon. Several slowed down and two were replaced with a another mans' horse. that man endedup riding on the wagon with the woman and boy. There was no other trouble on the way into Coyote Hills as the dusty trail dried their throats and encrusted dirt onto their faces. The riders were glad to see the lights of the town as the sun went down and darkness fell.

Pulling up to Wells Fargo stage and barn just inside the town limits, Sheriff John McIntire ordered his men to open the doors, pull the wagon in and guard the wagon until he made contact with the strange lil man from Wells Fargo.

***********************

Mean while John McInTire's other group of gunslingers that left the main group at the beginning of the ride, rode into town from the opposite direction. Sheriff John McIntire always took extra precautions and always had a backup plan. The Gambler always kept the Ace in the hole or something up his sleeve.

Deputy Mitch Murdock made his way back into the saloon and leaning back against the end of the bar procured a thin cigar from his breast pocket. Lighting it he inhaled the sweet smoke and blew a cloud into the beam of morning light filtering through the window on his left. His dark cold eyes drifted toward the outlaws at the table then over to Bones. The man's reputation preceded him, but Mitch was disappointed upon seeing the legend in the flesh. His haggard, thin form was nothing what he had expected, and he was older too, nothing like the papers or dime novels described him. He reached into the inside breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a paperback copy of an old issue of Wild West Weekly that McGovern's General Store brought in every month from New York. By the time they reached Coyote Hills the books were quite a bit more than a dime, but to Mitch they were well worth the money; his one simple pleasure in the god-forsaken town. On the cover was an illustration of some stereotypical trappers returning fire as two men attacked them, one firing a rifle from a distance, the other a thin man in a flashing shoot gunning down two with one shot. The title read, 'Fray at Hudson Bay' and depicted that Bones and Sandy alone had been robbing the HBC caravan's and operations all across New Caledonia. Not a stitch of it was true, except for one gun fight that occurred in Oregon City but Mitch didn't know any better. How could he? For all he knew everything written in the Wild West was true, maybe a little embellished, but he assumed everything written was accurate and had occurred just as they wrote it. Of course, after getting a good look at Bones Brown and his constant companion, Red Coat Wilkens, Mitch was beginning to have his doubts. He wondered if these two men were even the genuine article. Would they be able to take on McIntire's iron wagon? That was the plan of course, according to Barr. He needed some outsiders to help him rob that wagon to avoid any suspicion falling on himself. They had actually expected Tumbleweed Dawson to show up ahead the other two outlaws and were planning on using him for this encounter but Marshal Barr was highly adaptable and decided to personal meet with the two men who had it seemed, by chance found a third. A woman, who Mitch assumed was 'Jumping' Daisy Elliot, at least that was the name they gave her in his dime novel.

Mitch stared down at the cover of the novel then back to Bones, trying to see a resemblance in the artists depiction of him. He figured that if he cleaned himself up, he might have the look depicted in ink, but he'd still be hard pressed to pick him out of crowd. Still deep down he knew this man to be the one and only Bones Brown despite is disheveled appearance and was pleased to see that the arrangements appeared to be going well, but of course Dawson had yet to show up. His untimely arrival could really stir up a hornet's nest were he to show up now. Hopefully the marshal would wrap up the deal within the next ten minutes and they could then concentrate on dealing with other wanted man.

Dawson rode up with Chase. They had talked the whole way from the stagecoach station and TW got the feeling, this young spitfire Maddie Keegan might be more trouble than fighting the commercheros.


As they approached the town, the streets were somewhat empty. Mmmm...I got a bad feeling about this, not particularly saying it to the half-breed. Let's leave the horses and crawl the rest of the way in. Chase acknowledged and gingerly slid off his horse. Pulling his Hawkin 50 cal from the rifle holster...he looked at Chase Are you going to be ok...that shoulder is torn up and I don't think whoever dressed the wound did a good job of removing all the shapnel....

"I'm alright Mr.Dawson. So what's your plan"

Mmmm, well it looks like that saloon over there is surrounded. Look along the top of the buildings, see the rifles leaning against the building edge. Each one is probally a deputy. I need to find out who's in the bar and where your lady friend is. If she's been caught, maybe she's in the jailhouse. WIth McIntire already in town, things could get outta hand real quick like. So you're not on anybodys' Most Wanted list that I saw and this Marshal Barr ain't expecting you to be in this town. I need you to walk around and count all the deputies that you see. I reckon I'll have a drink and see who's who.inside. See if Maddie is inside the jail and wait for me outside the back.


TW checked and loaded his side arms then pushed the saloon doors open and walked in. He lifted the Hawkins and laid it on top of the bar. Bartender I'll take a whiskey...

"We're all sitting at the table Marshal, my experience is that tables are for cards, drinking or making a deal." Bones said flatly to Barr.
Mitch had gotten up and moved to the bar to have a smoke. He produced a small book and studied it for a moment and then looked Bones, Sandy and Jesse over.

"What the hell are you looking at peckerwood!?" Jesse barked as the deputy's eyes studied her.

"Let's have it Marshal, we're listening. You best spit it out before my girl here rolls her sleeves up on your deputy."

Bones got up slowly and snatched a bottle from the bar a few feet from where Mitch was leaning. The gunfighter gathered up some short glasses and poured everyone a drink. Taking his seat again he seemed relaxed as he poured the Whisky.

The balding barkeep was just returning through the back door as a tall cowboy was coming through the front doors.

The dusty cowboy set his rifle on the bartop and asked for a Whisky.

Sandy's eyes widened when Jesse shot her comment. It was a tense situation and he didn't feel the ground they were standing firm enough for such talk but he couldn't help but smile. Sure her tongue had gotten them in more scrapes he could recall, but he had always admired her for speaking her mind, even in the face of certain death.



The Marshal, well he grinned ear to ear and broke out in laughter. He slapped his knee and tossed his head toward, Mitch at the bar, having one at his expense. He knew the stone faced would not retort, it wasn't in his nature and wasn't often any man, let alone a woman tongue lashed him.

Holding up his hands toward, Jesse feigning surrender, the Marshal wiped a tear from his eye and nodded, acknowledging that he heard, Bones' demand. He could see that the gunfighters were not as amused as he was by Jesse's comment and so he calmed himself down with a deep breath.

"Whoooo! What did I tell ya, Mitch!" he shouted over to his deputy. "You can't buy spirit!" the Marshal's face then instantly turned sober and turned his cold blue eyes on Bones as he reached for a shot glass, "You have to deal for it." he said flatly.

The saloon doors burst open and in walked a big man under a ten gallon hat. He swaggered in like he owned the place passing by Mitch without so much as a glance and tossed his Hawkins on the bar.

Pete slid a whisky glass down to the man's quick hand and promptly made his way over with a bottle of 'Bourbon County Whiskey'. There was a slight tremble in the bartender's hand as he placed down the bottle and his eyes kept on looking over to the man sitting with his back to the bar as he parlayed with three others.

"Well I'll be." Said Marshal Barr as he looked over at the man at the bar. He seemed a little surprised on how Dawson slipped past his deputies but then he recalled that Mitch gave the signal to stand down.

The Marshal shot back his whiskey and tossed the glass back over to the center of the table for a refill. "Dawson!" he shouted out, "Tumbleweed Dawson! Would be so kind as to join us."

To Dawson's right, deputy Murdock looked up from under the brim of his hat and awaited an order from the Marshal. He was five bar stools away, but made no sudden movements, he just stared at Dawson letting him know he best comply with the request.

Still leaning confidentially back in his chair, Marshal Barr turned to Dawson, "The name's Richard Barr, Marshal Richard Barr and there's a warrant out for you." he then gestured to those he was sitting with, "I don't know if you have made the acquaintance of my companions but you all have one thing in common, that is being 'wanted'. Now before you start getting any ideas in that there big head o' yours know that my deputies have this place surrounded and they'll kill anyone who walks outta here before I do. Now, I was just about to lay the terms of our arrangement here and you're more than welcome to join us."

Sandy tossed back his shot and glanced over to Bones, then over to Jesse, who already had her hand resting beside her gun. He had heard the story of how this man Dawson had been wrongly accused for murder by McIntire's men but aside from that he knew little about him. The look in the big man's eyes made him nervous, one wrong move and they'd be like bottles in a shooting gallery. Marshal Barr didn't seem to be the sort of man to trifle with and if push came to shove he seemed prepared to go down in blaze of glory and blood. His deputies would storm in here and turn this place into tinder box, so Sandy was prepared to do what was in all in there best interests and take out Dawson if he decided to throw a match into this powder keg.

TW stood at the bar and waited for the bartender to pour the whiskey into the shotglass. He didn't acknowledge Marshal Barr at all. He flipped a couple coins at the bartender and jestered to wait a minute. Without saying a word, he lifted the glass, thanking the bartender, and glimpsing at Sandy, Bones, Jesse, the deputy and the Marshal all at the same time in the wall mirror behind the bar and swallowed.

"Ahhh, thats good stuff. Another bartender!" Again he waited while the shaking hand of the bartender tried pouring the whiskey and rye into the glass. He spilled some of it on the bar, until TW said, Wait, I'll do it...It seems your Marshal and the rest in here have itchy fingers and you're spilling the good stuff on the bar for no damn good reason."

TW poured hisself another without turning around to face them. "Mister..." he said as he swallowed the shot and set the glass on the countertop. His ten gallon hat, still tipped down to the countertop. "I'd prefer ta call you Sandy as what is written on this Wanted poster that I have in my back pocket. But I don't like guns pointing at my back, by you and any other. Now you and this other fella named Bones is Wanted by the same sonofbitch who framed me for a wrongdoing in his town that he owns....and has this Marshal in Coyete Hills in his back pocket named Richard Barr...short for...should I tell them Marshal. Huh...

I came in here for a drink and a drink only. Now we can do this the simply way as ta letting me turn around or I will take all of you with me to hell. Marshal, I guess you don't have a very good memory do you Dick?

Sandy quietly slipped his pistol back into his holster. The range-rider saw a lot, and he thought best not to test this man. Glancing over at Jesse, she too relaxed her hand that was hovering near her gun. She leaned back and lowered her hat, averting her eyes as they darted about the room.



Marshal Barr let his chair fall forward and as the front legs struck the floor he rose smoothly. Tucking his thumbs behind his belt buckle he sauntered over to the bar and leaned casual against it.

"Well, I guess its not all that much a secret that I'm on McIntire's payroll. Hell! Most everyone is round these parts. Unlessin' you got his backin' you're goin' no where." Barr said to Dawson, then he turned around and spoke to everyone in the saloon. "I'm aimin' to take down that iron wagon, but I'd be damned fool ta meet, McIntire head on. For that I need outsiders and men I can be damn sure can get the job done, but in order to pull this off I need discretion. So what do y'all have to say? I'm offering a five way split of the spoils."

The Marshall walked back over to the table, picked up his whiskey glass and raised it, waiting for the others to drink to their arrangement. Those that decided to take his deal would have to keep their heads low when McIntire was about, but Barr would make up a story that they simply got away. Of course, there was a problem with his plan and that was the Keegan girl. The men that caught her weren't in on the plan, and if he let her go now it wouldn't look good. Sheriff McIntire would be madder than hell, when he found out that the fugitives had slipped through his hands and he would need to placate him with an offering. Unfortunately, he'd have to sacrifice Maddie Keegan to that black eyed demon in order to allow his gang of outlaws to make it out of town.

Maddie was sitting in her cell on the mangy cot wondering how in the hell she was going to get out of this mess. She was kicking herself mentally for not listening to Sandy and staying put and hoped that Chase was okay. She should have never left him with his shoulder shot up the way it was. She glared at the two men who'd been left behind to guard her as she could see them at the front of the jailhouse. They had been making lewd comments back and forth to each other and she was becoming a little concerned that eventually they would act on what they were saying. She wondered how Sandy and Bones were faring...if they even knew she was in here and if they did, would they come for her or leave her. She couldn't blame them if they left her here. That was when she heard a 'psst!' coming from outside by the only window in her cell.


Chase had snuck his way through the town, which wasn't hard considering most of the deputies were at the saloon with the marsall. He made it to the back of the jailhouse and after peering through the windows of the cells, found Maddie in the second one. He got her attention and while he wanted to chew her butt for getting herself into this predictament he was also just glad that she was okay. Until she turned towards him and he saw the bruise forming on her cheek. Then he saw red. How dare those horses asses strike her.

"Maddie....you okay? No, don't look over here, don't give me away. Just sit tight...we're gonna get you out of here."