Trouble Rides Into Town

Laredo Trent never expected to be drawn into a war between the ranchers in the valley.

CHAPTER.....ONE

I stepped outside the batwing doors onto the dusty street. Looking towards the faraway mountains, I envied their coolness and wished I was there. I looked up and down the road, for trouble, I always knew was hiding near. I watched the dust devils dance across the road by the wind, never noticing the old woman until she spoke.

"Are you the one?" her voice crackled as she asked.

"Excuse me?" I replied back.

"Are you the one?" once again she cackled out. Looking up at me.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I have no clue what you are talking about. Who do you think I am?"

"This valley's savior. We put a notice in the papers for help. Now, here you are. You have the right look."

"And that would be?"

"Gun handler. Can you?" she asked pointing to my side and the forty-five Peacemaker I wore low and tied down.

"Yes, I can handle a six-shooter when need be. Many men can. But, I don't go out of my way to do so or hire my gun out. Sorry, ma'am, I am not the one you are hoping for. I wish you well."

I climbed aboard my lineback dun and rode away towards those mountains. The conversation kept nagging at my mind and I replayed it over and over, Sounds like trouble was brewing in this valley and that was something I was not looking for. But, it seems trouble always had a way of finding me out. No matter how well I hid.

In the foothills of the mountains, I stopped to make camp. Sitting next to the fire with a cup of coffee in my hand, I thought back on that little old lady. She seemed desperate and at her wits' end.

A voice called out of the semi-darkness. "Halloo, the camp! May I come in?"

"If you are friendly, you can and be welcome. If you have other thoughts, you better be ready to pay the fiddler for the dance." I replied.

Chuckling followed the old cowboy into the light. He looked tough as a rawhide and stepping down he cared for his horse first. I liked him already. Afterward, he sauntered up on slightly bowed legs and dropped his saddle onto the ground.

"Smelled your coffee from a ways off and my mouth started watering. I ran out of the makings yesterday." he said.

"Help yourself." I motioned towards the pot. "Come a long ways?"

"Not really. I am from around here. Have a place ten miles up the valley. Or I did have until someone burned me out last week. I put some lead into a couple and they have been chasing me ever since." he claimed.

My head swung around in all directions and the look of concern must have showed on my face.

"You need not worry friend. I left them boys miles back and by the time they work out my tracks, I'll be an old man. I'm Jubal Holly. What's your handle?"

"Laredo Trent." I replied.

"You named after that town in Texas?"

"Yah. My Mother thought it sounded pretty." I said rolling my eyes.

Jubal laughed. "Mothers do beat all. Don't they? Where are you headed?"

"No place special. What's happening around here? An old lady stopped me in town and asked if I was the one. Says they put an ad in the papers looking for a gun handler, as she called it." and I described her.

"Sounds like you met Sally. I'm surprised she is still around. She was one of the first in the valley to be threatened. Stubborn as a mule she is."

"Who's doing the threatening? What's at stake?" I asked, reaching to refill my tin cup.

"Someone who thinks mighty of himself. Bryce Fargo is his name. He rode into the valley, about two years ago. Nothing special to him, just a small time rancher like the rest of us. Then gun hands started showing up on his ranch. Lying around and not one of them punches cattle. A month later things began to happen to the other ranchers spreads. Fences pulled down, hay stacks burned, gardens churned up by horses' hoofs during the night. Little annoying things that have steadily gotten worse."

"Such as, Jubal?" I asked.

"Cattle and horses rustled. Barns and houses set on fire. Gunshots during the night. People have been hurt and finally two days ago, the Murrays were found hung from them barn rafters. All of them. Mother, Father, and the children. Katey was only three. What kind of animal hangs a little girl?" Jubal looked at me and had tears in his eyes.

I responded quickly," A dead man. Where do we start?"

In the morning we broke camp and saddled up. Jubal led off and I followed. He had a destination in mind and wanted to get there as soon as possible. He didn't say where, but said he would take me there nonetheless.

Heading north by northwest, we wove our way through trees of birch, aspen, pine, and cedar. The leaves of the birch danced on the breeze, flashing glimpses of Silver on the bottom of each one. Laredo had always loved the smell of cedar and pine, so he enjoyed himself during the long ride.

Come mid-afternoon Laredo could see a jumble of rocks up ahead. It was as if someone had thrust massive rocks up through the Earth's crust in a close-knit pattern. They stopped before them.

Jubal turned in the saddle, "From here onward, we will be under watch. Beware of any move you make." He smiled and added, "I wouldn't want you shot by mistake."

"Neither would I." I commented back, looking as serious as possible.

A click of our tongues set our horses in motion. In and around huge rocks the trail we followed weaved. In places, we had to take our feet out of the stirrups, and still, we brushed rock on each side of us.

Sometimes we rode in bright merciless sunshine and other times through shady rock tunnels almost as dark as night.

Half a mile further someone called out, "Riders coming in!" Men began appearing alongside of us on the rock walls and every man jack of them was holding a rifle in our direction. It was unnerving.

I looked over at Jubal and commented, "It's come to this has it?"

He shrugged and responded, "People are fed up and if the Law isn't going to do anything about it, we will. Come and meet some people.

We rode a quarter of a mile further and then we rode into a wide open space. There had to be almost ten acres of grass, knee high to my horse and a few trees dotted around. Mostly Cedar and Pine. A bubbling creek came out of the rocks at the west side and flowed gentley towards the south and disappeared near where we entered.

In the center stood a log pavilion, and underneath were tables that could easily sit up to fifty men. A campfire was boiling coffee. We could smell it from this distance. Thirty men and women huddled around those tables talking. With those on the sides of the trail on our way in, there must be close to seventy people here. and all of them were as mad as hell.

The talk stopped as we rode up. They knew Jubal , but I was a stranger and strangers were not to be trusted. No matter where I turned, eyes were covering my every move.

"Howdy all. This is Laredo Trent. A friend of mine. He's come to help."

"If he's such a friend. How come we've never heard you speak of him before, Jubal?"

"Have you told us about every single one of your friends, Bailey? What a minute, do you have any friends?" smirked Jubal smiling.

Laughter exploded around the tables, and coffee was offered up. Accepting a cup, I looked around and commented on what a sweet little place this was.

"We like it." said Sally coming up to refill my cup.

"Anyone got claim to it?" I asked.

"Not that we know of." she claimed and then asked, "Why?"

"Just making conversating Sally. How are you again?"

She looked me over from head to feet and asked, "Do I know you?"

"We met in town yesterday. Out in front of the Saloon. You asked me if I was the one."

"No I did not young man. Why would you say that?" she snapped back at me. Then she turned to look at Jubal before walking away shaking her head.

HIs explanation was shrugging his shoulders and reaching for his cup to be refilled. Where did he put it and how? This cowboy coffee was as hot as Hades. I was barely on my first cup.

Gordon, who ran a local saloon, stood up and raised his voice to be heard above all, "Ladies and Gentlemen. We have a major problem here. One that goes by the name of Bryce Fargo. I'll give a short rundown of the past couple of days.

"The Morton's are missing half of their stock. That's twenty horses and a hundred cattle, if you go by the numbers. Burnside had his gather of hay for this Winter burned last night. Now he's out of ten tons of hay and doesn't know yet how he is going to feed his cattle. The last bit of news is too ghastly to even mention. Jubal will you please?"

Jubal stood up and looked all around, his eyes full of tears. " The Murrays were all hung in their barn two days ago. All of them, including the children, even the youngest, Katie." Gasps rang out in the air. He conitinued, "And it's because of that ghastly incident that Laredo climbed aboard our wagon. Now, no one in this valley knows him and that can work in our favor. Not any of Bryce's riders nor Bryce himself. Any suggestions on how to best use him?"

Nobody spoke up. They just looked around at one another. After ten minutes I cleared my throat. "May I make a suggestion?"

"Please do." Pleaded Gordon.

I rose to sit on top of the table. Taking a drink to wet my lips I began. "Are you sure this Bryce Fargo, is the cause of all the trouble in this valley?" Pausing to let this sink in, I recieved glares of hatred. Continuing now on shaky ground I added, "From the looks I would say a big yes. One way to deal with him is to mount all who can ride and shoot, go to his ranch and wipe them out once and for all. Every single person we find there."

"Then we'd be no better than them." spoke up Carson , the Blacksmith.

"Exactly and we want to stay on the side of the Law as much as possible. What if someone was to join them as a ranch hand, and keep an open eye and set up traps natural like. We'd whittle them down and do it legally. What do you think?" I finished and sat back down on the seat.

Silence greeted me afterwards. That could be either a good or a bad sign. I walked over to my horse and grabbing my bedroll, I stretched out alongside the creek and promptly fell asleep.

They waited until I was softly snoring before the talk continued.

"What do you think about Laredo?" asked Jubal.

"Seems nice enough, but are you sure he wasn't sent here by Bryce just to find this place?" asked Burnside, who hadn't spoken to anyone since arriving here early this morning.

Gordon and Carson had been talking softly amongst themselves. Gordon now spoke up, "If he turns out to be a plant? We plant him ourselves after a bullet to the head. Any disagreements?" When no one challenged him, including Jubal he added, "Then it's settled. We have a plan."

Jubal looked over at his new friend and hoped he hadn't made a mistake. One that would come back to haunt them all. Grabbing his bedroll he sank down next to the fire under the pavilion and drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow would be an interesting day.

Laredo slept as well as he could on the ground amongst the Cedar. No gunfire, and his horse did not move around to wake him up. The smell of fresh coffee and Bacon frying woke him, and he enjoyed the way it made him feel this morning. Something that did not happen very often. Rolling his bed-roll, he saddled his horse before sauntering over to get a cup of coffee and a Bacon biscuit.

He stood to the side slowly studying each member of the group. Family-orientated, God-fearing, hard-working down to Earth people. Salt of the Earth. Exactly how his own family had been at one time before he decided to go his own way in the world and found out he had a natural way of handling guns.

Jubal spoke to him around bites of his biscuit and sips of coffee. "Morning Laredo. What do you think of the group?"

"Honestly, you people do not have the mindset to fight a sustained battle."

"What the Hell does that mean? Granted, they are not gunfighters, but all have been around and used weapons all their lives. And most importantly, they will fight when the chips are down.."

"Are they ready to be as dirty a fighter or more than anyone they go up against? I am and will not think twice about it afterward."

"Then it is a good thing you are on our side, isn't it? Want to see what we are up against? Let's take a ride."

Together they rode away side by side toward the Southeast. The others watched them with raised eyebrows, each wondering what was going on as they had heard only a part of their conversation. Quickly, the land around them changed from rolling hills to a more flat plain, full of sagebrush and sparse grass. Great place for Rattlesnakes and such.

They had bypassed the town an hour ago and once again they headed up into rolling hills. At a small puddle of leftover rain from the week before, they stopped to rest and water the horses.

"You do know where we are going, right?"

"Of course I do, Laredo," Jubal answered back. He spread his hand around them in every direction and added, "All of this land is claimed by Bryce Fargo. We must ride weary from here onward. All of his so-called hands have standing orders to shoot anyone they deem a trespasser and that includes us. Well, includes anyone they find in the area. We have a few more miles to go to reach the headquarters of his emerging empire as he calls it."

"Lead on." Replied Laredo backing his horse from the puddle, now mostly just a mud hole.

They slowed down and rode around a large rock outcropping onto a flat space of the hills. Where they stopped they blended into the rocks behind them, and if they did not move around much, nobody down in the yard would see them. Only, there was not much of anything happening in the yard area, around the House, Barn, or Bunkhouse. Jubal could see an addition had been added onto the Bunkhouse since the last time he had been here visiting the previous owners.

Jubal stared down and murmured hmm. Laredo looked over at him. "What's bothering you about this setup? I can tell something is."

"The bunkhouse is twice the size it once was. There are more gunhands down there now. What the Hell is he up to?"

"Why don't you ask him? I'm sure he would be more than happy to tell you. Every single person I have ever come up against love to gloat about themselves."

"Yeah and I am sure he would follow it up with a few Forty-Fours to the chest. He hates my guts. Ever since the first day we met."

Looking at him with a curious look on his face. Laredo waited for the story he knew was coming..

"We had a disagreement over a lady and I busted him in the nose. Broke it good. You should have heard him howl. Guess you can say I embarrassed him in front of the Lady."

"What happened with the lady afterwards?"

A look of pain filled his eyes and Jubal turned around to wipe his eyes before speaking again. "I married her. A year later, she died under strange circumstances..I could not prove it , but I am sure Bryce was behind it."

"So, you also hate his guts as well. I am surprised you haven't just put a bullet in his head and be done with it." Laredo took a swig of his canteen before handing it over.

"Believe me, I have thought about that very thing at least once a day."

"What's stopped you?" Asked Laredo taking back the canteen and hung it off the saddlehorn. He thought he already knew that answer and waited a moment before saying it. "Your Wife."

"Yes"

Down below in the Ranchyard, a man had come out of the Bunkhouse and turned to look up in their direction. He could not see them , but he probably felt eyes upon him. And sometimes that is all it took for someone to be discovered. The man stood there for a couple of minutes, then went on his way to the Barn.

"Need to see anything else right now?" Laredo asked, his eyes still on the Ranchyard.

"No, Sir." Turning his horse around, they rode back the way they had come. Slow and steady, not wanting to kick up any dust to announce their presence.

Not a word was said between the two of them on the ride back to the meeting place. Each lost in their own thoughts. Jubal is about his wife and the child he never met. Laredo about battle plans. If it were only himself, Laredo would have attacked head-on, taking out as many as he could and creating as much damage before the end. Laredo is a realist. He knew there would come a time when even he would go down in a blaze of gunfire.


CHAPTER......TWO



Three hours later, Jubal and Laredo rode into the meeting place. Some of the people who were there before had left, and a few more had shown up. Isssac Morgan waited until they had ground hitched their horses before striding up to Jubal with a purpose in his steps. He looked sideways at Laredo not knowing him and wondering if he could speak freely or not.

Not being able to keep quiet any longer, he ranted. "What you going to do about those Fargo riders. They are in town, walking around like they own the place and causing trouble. Pushing people around and taking whatever they want without paying."

"And what is the good Sheriff doing about it?" Jubal asked.

"Not a Damn thing as usual. You know he is paid every week to look the other way."

Laredo had not spoken a word up until now. " What have you done about it?"

"Who me? I am not a gunman, and who the Hell are you anyway?"

"Someone who has come to help, Issac. Don't let your mouth overrun your ass." Jubal commented back.

Laredo turned to Jubal. "Do these Fargo riders have anything about themselves to point out that they ride for Fargo?"

Jubal thought for a moment before answering, and then he smiled. " They all wear a Yellow Bandana around their necks. Easy to spot even from a long way off. What are you thinking about, Laredo?"

"Thought I would ride into town and take down the odds against us a bit. Of course, I would let them start. I'd just finish things. Stay on the side of the law. We do have a right to defend ourselves." And he smiled, and it wasn't a happy smile.

Laredo had another cup of coffee before he climbed back into the saddle and pointed his horse toward town. The breeze blew through the grass and leaves of the trees. The bark of the birch trees that had peeled a bit was flopping back and forth in the wind. The smell of cedar and pine floated on the air. It was as pleasant a smell as horses to him.

Taking his time Laredo figured out how he could push those Fargo riders into a fight, whether with fists or guns. The easy place was in a Saloon and he was thirsty for a shot and a beer. On the outskirts of town, he pulled up and checked the loads of his pistol, making sure asll cylinders were full.

As soon as he entered the main street, he could see me strutting around wearing Yellow bandana's. They reminded him of Peacocks and he chuckled. Soon they would start to fall. And it would all be legal. Clicking his horse into motion he rode down the street toward the largest Saloon, of which there were only two in town. Nobody really paid him any attention as most people were going about their business that Saturday afternoon.

The Chug-a-Lug stood in the middle of town. From the number of horses tied up at the hitching rail, the place was doing a fair amount of business. Laredo paused on the ground next to his horse and slid his six-shooter in and out a couple of times. He placed a boot upon the boardwalk and then the other, nodding at the ladies walking by.

Pushing open the Bat-wing doors he entered, stepping to the side to allow his eyes to adjust. Nobody seemed to have noticed him and if they did, they would just see another Cowboy who stopped for a drink. Deliberately, he strolled slowly up to the end of the bar to put his back to the nearest wall. After that first shot of Whiskey he stuck to Beer and drank little by little. It would do no good to get drunk. A drunk never won a gunfight.

Laredo sipped his Beer and watched the Yellow Bandanas. The men wearing them were arrogant bullies who needed to learn a lesson, and it would only be a matter of time until it presented itself. An half hour later it did. Two of them, Fargo Riders, got into an argument with each other and the pushing passed the name-calling.

One of them got shoved into Laredo, and he pushed back. Both stopped and turned, looking at him.

"Watch what you are doing, Mister." Slurred the one who did the shoving. "Don't you know who we are?" And his arm swung around the room, taking in the five Fargo riders there.

Laredo stared back, which made the two of them uneasy. "Don't know and more importantly, Don't care. You bumped into me." Then he turned his side toward the bar.

"No one turns their back on us" said the nearest one and made the mistake of grabbing Laredo's arm to swing him around. What he did do, however, was get a hard left hook to the jaw, staggering him backward into his partner.

And that started the free-for-all. Chairs fell over as Fargo riders jumped to their feet. Laredo calmly drank his Beer and waited for them to make the next move. It came soon enough. They started for him, and he put his back to the wall with his fists clinched. The first one in range got a right to the guts and a left to the nose. Blood flowed from the broken snot locker. The owner was out of the fight for the moment.
Laredo ducked the next thrown punch and slammed the thrower's face onto the bartop. He was out cold before he bounced off onto the floor.

The others paused, deciding if they wanted to join the dance and that gave Laredo time to drink some more of his Beer. So far, not one punch had landed on him, and then it happened. Only it was a Beer mug upside the head and not a fist. Dazed and bleeding from the cut in his head, Laredo leaned against the bar to gather his wits. He shook his head and that only added to the pain. Then, the two who had not entered the fight yet pulled their six-shooters.

Seeing as he had no other choice to save his life, Laredo pulled his gun, and four shots rang out from his gun. Both gunmen fell backward, blood staining their shirt fronts. shock registered all over their faces. They bounced off tables and overturned chairs on their way to meet the floor. The first one he had hit stared at him and tried to pull his own gun, but Laredo saw him out of the corner of his eye and kicked him in the face, putting him out of commission for good with a broken neck.

The Sheriff pushed through the doors to see what all the gunshots were about. He did not expect to see Fargo Riders on the receiving end and a stranger standing there with a smoking gun in his hand. One without any bullet holes in him at that. "Who the Hell started this?"

The Bartender spoke up, " It was them." He pointed to the Fargo Riders lying on the floor. "This gent was minding his own business, having a drink when they shoved that one into him, and he pushed him off. They did not like that. Words were said, and when he turned back to the bar, they jumped him. Those two who were shot tried to bushwhack him, and he shot back."

"Damn. There are ten more Fargo riders in town, and they are not going to like this one bit. Mister, you'd better high tail it out of town before they find you. "

"Sheriff, if they feel froggy enough to jump, I will be outside waiting." Laredo pushed out the four spent shells and replaced them with fresh ones. Draining the rest of his Beer he turned to leave and nodded his head at the Bartender. Once outside, he paused to adjust his hat, and noticing a bench a few feet away, he went over and sat down.

Pulling out his bandana, Laredo dabbed at the side of his head. He could feel the blood dripping down the side of his face. He had no idea how badly he had been cut and whether he would need stiches or not. He would worry about that later on when he was sure nobody was going to put a few bullet holes in him. Ten minutes later, he noticed the other Fargo riders stood on the other side of the street, down a few buildings, talking with the Sheriff who was pointing in his direction. Not a good sign on any day.

The Sheriff walked away. One of them climbed aboard a horse and rode like hell out of town. The remaining ones fanned out to the width of the street, staring at Laredo flexing their gun-shooting hands. It would not be long until they started walking toward him. He stood up and stared right back. If they thought they were going to make him sweat and be scared, they had another thing coming.

Nine against one were not great odds, but Laredo Trent had faced greater ones before and survived. Not all in one piece, but he still lived.

He walked out to the middle of the street to get away from any chance of his horse taking a ricochet. This also showed them he was far from being afraid. He put one foot in front of the other and after having traveled fifteen feet stopped and waited for them to make the first move. One strutted a foot in front of the others aand this was the first one Laredo would drill. His cockiness would cost him his life today. At thirty feet, the lead man reached for his gun, and Laredo put a bullet in his guts. Then he shifted his aim and shot the ones on either side of him in the chest. Instant killing shots.

A bullet hit his left arm, spinning him around toward the ground. He stretched out facing them and shot two more, head shots, blowing out what little brains they had out the back of their heads. Four more to go, and then he heard the rifle open up. Those Yellow Bandanas made perfect targets. Whoever was shooting was doing a number and I had to smile. I kept my focus and did not turn around to see who it was. I only hoped it was a friend and not a foe.

Finally, there was only one left, and I put a bullet in his heart, dropping him into a pile of horse shit. Then and only then did I stand to my feet. Turning around, I saw my brother in arms. Jubal stood there leaning against a dry goods store. He smiled and tipped his hat. I smiled back and pushed out the spent shells, loading in fresh ones, then holstered my forty-four.

"Figured you would get yourself into trouble and need some help." He greeted me.

"Trouble? Me? I had it under control, Jubal." I responded.

"Yeah, I saw how you had it under control."

"Thanks anyway. You thirsty? I could use a Beer, but let's go somewhere else. There was a fight in the Chug-A-Lug, and it is pretty messy in there."

Shaking his head, Jubal looked at him and commented, "You've been busy."

I did not say a word, just picked my hat up off the street and dusted it off. Settling it on my head, I walked past him toward the only other Saloon in town. He caught up with me after a few steps. How many we might face while still in town, we had no clue. Only time would tell.
As we walked, we could feel the eyes upon us marking our way.

The other Saloon looked like it belonged down Mexico way. Made of adobe nd named Pedro's Cantina. Inside, the darkness was cooler than outside, and we felt relief. A few nodded at Jubal. I was a stranger, and they would in time, warm up to me or not. Pedro stood behind the bar, wiping out a clean mug for something to do.

"Been awhile Jubal. What can I get you and your friend?"

"Two Beers."

Pedro drew the Beers and set them in front of us. He looked me over good before speaking. "I saw the fight outside and heard about the one inside the other Saloon. You do not like them, Yellow Bandanas. What's your name?"

"Laredo Trent."

Pedro took a step backward, which did not go unnoticed by the few others in the place. He only said three words, but they sounded like gunshots. "The Texas Tornado!"

"Been called that."

Jubal turned to look at me with new respect in his eyes. I shrugged my shoulders and drank my Beer. We had another one on the house, and when we finally left, the others inside the Cantina greeted me as a friend.


CHAPTER.....THREE



Miles away, Bryce Fargo sat on his porch watching men do their chores around the ranchyard when a rider rode into it like his butt was on fire. His interest changed instantly to that man. He stood up and asked, "What's wrong? Where are the others?"

It took a moment for the rider, Mitch, to catch his breath. "There was a fight in the Chug-A-Lug. A stranger beat the hell out of three of the five and shot the other two. The rest of the men in town were going after him when I jumped on my horse and rode here, figuring you would want to know."

"Porter?" He yelled out for his foreman. He paced on the porch waiting for Porter to come up to him.

Porter came out from around the back of the Barn, where he had been mending a corral fence. "Yeah, Boss." He yelled out as he came near.

"You know anything about a new stranger in town?"

"No, Sir! What's wrong?"

"He attacked the men in town and killed two that we know of. How many went to town today?"

"Let me see." He paced as he thought, and finally he stopped to turn back. " I believe it was fifteen. Calvin was supposed to keep them out of trouble."

"Well, he did a piss poor job of it if two were killed. Don't you think?"

"Yes, Sir. He will be answering questions when he gets back." Porter looked like he wanted to be anywhere else t that moment.

"IF he gets back..You mean!"

"Yes, Sir. Are we riding into town?"

"Yes, we are. Hook up the wagon. Get my horse, and you and Pete saddle yours.. Mitch, you drive the wagon. Now, Move!!" Bryce turned to head into the house. A moment later, he came back out with a six-gun strapped onto his hip and carrying a Henry rifle. There was fire in his eyes and a determined look upon his face. He'd had enough of people thinking they could do what they pleased when it came to his land. Yes, Bryce Fargo thought he owned the world around him.

The wagon rolled out of the ranchyard behind the three riders. Bouncing along at a slow pace gave Mitch time to wish he had not even come back today. He checked the six-gun on his hip for the tenth time and the rifle lying on the seat next to him. Ahead of him, Fargo sat his horse like he was passing in review on a Military Parade ground, back ramrod straight and neither looking anywhere but straight ahead.

Porter and Pete rode behind Bryce and whispered to each other. Occasionaly they would turn around and look at Mitch. Neither one of them wore a smile upon their generally happy go lucky faces. When they did look back, Mitch nodded at them in turn. No words needed to be spoken.

Halfway to town the wind picked up and blew the dust kicked up from the horses around them. Soon the three trailing Brce Fargo were covered with a fine layer of Red dust. Of course, by the time they finally rode onto main street, the three of them looked like hell compared to how pristine Bryce looked.

Townsfolk stopped to watch them pass by and whispered behind their backs, pointing and some even laughed openly outloud. This drew a dirty, evil look from Btyce.