Mature Content: Nope
With: Amos and Speed
Time of Day: Afternoon
The man sat his horse near the end of the street. A grizzled man of some age, but as much as he was grizzled, he was hard, tanned deeply by the sun, a gratified top hat sitting atop his long greyish mane, and a full beard to match. His clothes showed their age as well. Pieces were of military issue and well worn civilian type. Trousers of cotton duck as opposed to wool, knee high cavalry boots that had seen service as well as repair.
His mount? A grulla stud, a mustang by lineage, as tough as the man on his back. A black stripe down his spine, and black stockings added to his grey color, and an aged McClellan cavalry saddle. The pair had seen many a mile together, that much was obvious. Both alert to all that surrounded them, almost out of place in a town setting.
This was Amos Conroy, and he was in town on business, bounty business.
Just outside of town in the trees was a body draped over horse, wrapped in his ground sheet. That man was two hundred dollars, cash money, name of Jethro Dollarhide, wanted by the Allen and Millard Bank of Virginia City Montana, dead or alive.
He eased the mustang toward the large building in the center of town as people stopped to look at the man wondering if he was trouble or not. He stopped, reading the painted sign announcing “Municipal Building 1868.” Then he looked at the glass window with words “Town Marshal” in gold leaf and at the bottom, David S. Guyer, Marshal.
A smile cracked the craggy face and he stepped down, casually flipping the reins over the hitch rail, then stepping up on the boardwalk, nodding and tipping his hat to a couple walking past. He stretched and then stepped to the door, opened it and went inside. The door on his right was ajar, so he simply pushed it open and stepped through saying, “Not THE Captain Guyer is it?”
Speed looked up and after a moment his eyes went wide as he leaped from his chair and the two embraced. “Amos! Amos Conroy! What are you doing in Kalispell?”
The two separated, “Got me a circular and the man to go with it. Lookin’ to collect on it.”
“Damn! Well,” he said as Amos handed him the poster, “The bank will honor it since it’s from Millard Bank. It is good to see you. You’re a long ways from home.”
“Nope, got a spread east of town. Lookin’ to quit huntin’ men an’ maybe set some roots. Maybe hunt a bit of gold ‘er silver.” He said with a smile. “Might ought ta drop around, Alice would like to see an old friend.”
“Alice, you drug her out here?” Speed asked. He remembered her, she was mid-twenties back then, and married.
“Nope. Was the other way around actually. She did the draggin’, I did the follerin’.”
“Wish I could, got me a cell block full that needs my attention, but you bet I will.” Speed was thrilled to see Amos, he had not seen him since the war. Right near the end of it.
“Well, I’ll be up to bank, after I drag the carcass so’s it can be seen, and then to yer undertaker fer proper burial." He started for the door, then stopped and looked back, “Speed, you come out, Alice was widowed back in seventy, no account, well, you come out.”
“Count on it, Amos.” Came the reply. He watched him leave, then saw him mount up and head back up the street.