Sit down, shut up, don't touch anythin'
It was getting to be pretty late in the evening, but Addy had one more task before she could head to the Lickskillet for the steak she'd been looking forward to all day. Once she and Mr. Smith had gotten to town, she'd taken care of her team, and the outlaws' horses with Weedy's help, then quickly cleaned up so she was more presentable, in a blue wool skirt and tan waistcoat.
Now, with the paper that they'd taken from the bandits, as well as a satchel of their guns and belongings, she headed to the sheriff's office and stuck her head in the door. "Ya got a minnet, Speed?"
Weedy had only caught a glimpse of the man who owned the cargo in Addy's freight wagon, but he was pretty sure he could find him for Addy.
When he'd gotten home from school, the man, Mr. Smith, had just been leaving, and as soon as he'd seen the bullet holes in the wagon and the extra horses in the barn, he knew that Addy had a tale to tell, so his focus had been on getting the details from her while he helped with the horses. Now, she was on her way to the marshal's office, and had asked him to see if he could find Mr. Smith, likely at the saloon.
Ducking just inside the doors, Weedy looked around the inside of the saloon, knowing not to go in unless he saw who he was looking for. The place fascinated him, of course, he was a kid, after all, but he knew full-well from his mother, what could happen to a person here if you weren't careful. He allowed as how he'd never be one of those people, drinking to oblivion so that you neglected everything important. He wanted to be a science man, like Mr. Browne, well, if he and Wyler didn't run away to San Francisco and become pirates!
He spotted the man, facing right at the door, so he ventured over to the table. "Hey!" He grinned, eager to grill the man on his version of the fight yesterday. "Miss Addy asked me to tell you that she's over at the sheriff's office about yesterday, if you want to come?"
"The law is the law."
"Mining's not everyone's choice of hobbies, it just happens to be mine."
A familiar voice rang out; "Ya got a minnet, Speed?"
He looked up from what he was doing, "Why Addy Chapple, how are c'mon in, lite an' set. Coffee's on." He offered. "So what brings you in, been a spell since I've seen you, hope the job is goin' well, and of course, Weedy is staying out of mischief." He missed seeing Addy and just talking. She was an interesting woman, the Indian affair did not seem to have affected her in the least, though sometimes it's just beneath the surface.
"By the way, pay no mind to that latest edition of the Union, there was a question, rightfully asked mind you, but I'm afraid the folks only got what they wanted out of it, but it's cleared up already." Speed warned and then explained.
A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
Roland was just dropping the coin for his bill when the youth hollered at him from the doorway.
Rising up and settling his hat on his head, he dipped his head politely at the staff before joining the boy at the front.
"Your timing is impeccable, good sir, as I was just finishing up. Now, I don't believe we've been formally introduced. My name is Roland Smith."
He held out his hand to shake the boy's. Roland enjoyed children. They were so wide with potential and excitement about life. That sort of thing should be protected for as long as possible. His own childhood had devolved into an experience of the abuse and pain that life could bring. Not as bad as some. But regular beatings on account of being a bastard had ended much the joys of boyhood too soon.
In the wake of such experiences, he had endeavored to show kindness and respect to the youths he'd met, hoping to preserve their light for as long as possible before the darkness of living in the world could encroach upon them.
Perhaps one day he'd have a child of his own.
Well... if so, he'd better hurry up and find a woman who felt likewise. And one younger than him. And of course, one who could put up with his peculiarities. A tall order.
"Please lead the way, young man. I'm too new to town to know where anything is, and would be glad of your guidance.
In this dangerous frontier, one needs a good scout, after all."
He winked at the boy and gestured for him to take the lead.
@[Weedy Porter]
"Weedy!" The boy took the man's hand, giving it a firm shake, just like Marshal Guyer and Deputy Pike had taught him...to be bold, but not brute, showing he was a man, but not a bully. "Weedy Chappel, Miss Addy is my ma, a good one, too." So good that when she was out of town, everybody and their brother was 'keeping an eye on him', so he couldn't get away with (much of) anything, but he always had someone to go to if he needed it, as well as a place to get a hot meal, and someone to be sure he was in school when he should be.
Truth was, even though he missed his ma, Miss Addy was his family now -- really had been for a time -- and he loved her and wanted to make her proud of him, so he tried his best, for an eleven year old, to be good!
"This way, sir." He led the way into the waning light, nearly skipping along the boardwalk. "Addy said you ran into some bandits, shot up her wagon real good, that made her madder'n a mule chewin' on hornets! But she said you fixed them good, and she even has the horses they were on. She'd give me one, if they were to give, but I don't need one, since I have my own Indian pony now that she took from a brave."
While he realized that the stories were not jests, and that people suffered and died, they were still exciting to a boy. "You're real brave, too! Town needs good men. This way." He nodded to the courthouse.
A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
Roland tried not to seem surprised that the boy was naming Addy as his mother. While it might be physically possible, it did not seem likely. No, he vaguely recalled Addy mentioning that she'd taken in a boy, and this must be the one. An orphan, no doubt, now adopted. As often as Addy must be away on business, it would be infinitely better to have her than no one at all.
Besides, in a small town like this, everyone was doubtless a little bit father and mother to everyone else's children.
Following along behind Weedy, Roland listened as the boy prattled excitedly about the misadventure Addy and Roland had shared on the road.
"Madder than a Mule chewing Hornets?" Roland chuckled, "How wonderfully evocative. Paints quite the picture. Though, I imagine the hornets wouldn't be any happier about the situation."
He nodded, "I did manage to put an end to the depredations of two of the highwaymen. But I'd not have walked out of that scrape without Addy doing her part."
He gestured with his hands to help illustrate the tale. "She charged at them with the wagon when they first appeared. They did not expect that! The maneuver put them off-kilter and let us find a defensible position. Then she came up with the strategy that ended the fight: Charging one flank while I took the other.
She got me out of there after I was wounded, too. A remarkable young woman, your mother. Part General, part nurse. Not a bad cook either, considering what was available at the transfer station. She'll make a man very happy, one day... if he can keep up with her!"
He eyed Weedy when he mentioned that Addy had taken a pony from a brave. Well... normally Roland would be skeptical of such a claim, but who could say what the ends of Addy's capabilities were? Finally, weedy complimented Roland, saying the town was in need of such good men.
Roland smiled.
"What? With you here? Any more are surely superfluous. But I appreciate the kind regards."
Roland followed the rest of the way to the courthouse, where they discovered Addy and the Marshal already in conversation.
@[Weedy Porter]
@[Henry Guyer II]
Sit down, shut up, don't touch anythin'
"Why Addy Chapple, how are c'mon in, lite an' set. Coffee's on."
"Coffee sounds right good! Thank ya." Addy flopped down into a chair across from Speed's at the desk, tilting back a bit with her feet against the front of the desk.
"So what brings you in, been a spell since I've seen you, hope the job is goin' well, and of course, Weedy is staying out of mischief."
"He'd best be behavin'!" Addy chuckled, knowing that the boy was actually very well mannered and eager to please. But he was still a boy, and had a wild streak that got him into trouble on occasion! "Work's been keepin' me goin', but I got a day'er two now." While there was still a bit to be done, she wouldn't have to leave town for a couple of days. She accepted the coffee he offered with a nod.
"By the way, pay no mind to that latest edition of the Union, there was a question, rightfully asked mind you, but I'm afraid the folks only got what they wanted out of it, but it's cleared up already." Speed warned and then explained.
"Oh, is that so?" She didn't know what the fuss might be about, she couldn't read but simple words, progress made with Miss Orr. "What question is that?" She had no qualms about rumors, she paid them no mind, but it was always fun to find out what people were talking about.
Speed was explaining as the door opened and Weedy burst in, Roland close on his heels. "I found him!" the boy declared, pleased to be helping.
"There ya are!" Letting the chair's front feet thump to the floor, Addy stood, setting her coffee on the desk. "Speed, this here's Mister Roland Smith, he's movin' ta town, a gunsmith. Mr. Smith, Marshal Guyer."
"The law is the law."
"Mining's not everyone's choice of hobbies, it just happens to be mine."
Speed stood up and offered his hand to the man. Folks call me Speed, Mister Smith. A pleasure to meet you. Coffee's on, help yourself and grab a chair." Speed greeted and sat back down, so, what was it brought you in besides the best cuppa coffee in the Territory? Was there trouble on the trail?"
The first thing a lawman thinks is there was trouble, of course, Addy could just be dropping in to introduce this Smith fellow, and he would get the questions one asked of a newcomer if indeed the man planned to stay in Kalispell, or was just passing through as so many do.
Tags Bongo, Cuban Writer
A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
Roland wondered if the man was being facetious about the coffee. But he didn't intend to turn the offer down in any case, for fear of being rude.
He went to where the coffee had been brewed, and found some cups to fill. First for Addy, then for himself, and finally he refreshed the cup belonging to the Marshal if he wanted it.
Sitting down in the offered chair, he nodded solemnly. "I am moving to your fair town, with intentions to buy a property I saw advertised in New York. Addy was moving my things and myself by wagon from Oakdale. But I'd be moving into your cemetery instead, were it not for this remarkable young lady."
He took a sip of the coffee, and was surprised to find that it wasn't bad. He'd have preferred a Darjeeling, but the frontier held its hardships.
"On the first day of our travels from Oakdale by wagon, we encountered a couple of chaps with a broken cart. Stopping to help, a third came up behind us. When he saw that I noticed him, he fired off a snap shot with his coach gun. Ruined that side of the wagon, but fortunately not my face. At least, it's not any worse than it was before." He chuckled at his own joke.
Then he lifted his cup in Addy's direction, "She thought fast. Charged the pair in front by bringing our horses to action, surprising them and forcing them to leap aside. Then, once we'd gotten a distance up the road, she brought us to a halt at a defensible position. The men advanced on horseback, firing upon us. I managed to hit one with my rifle. The other two took cover, attacking from the right and left flanks.
When they ran out of ammunition and started to reload, good Addy here suggested a charge. Hers was more successful than mine. The fellow I came upon pulled a knife, and I stumbled back and knocked my head on a rock.
I wager that God fired at that brigand for me, as I was knocked quite senseless. But the Lord's aim was true, if not mine, and he was shot dead.
Addy took her own man easily, then came about to recover me. It was hours before I was capable again. I still have a lump at the back of my head under my hat and hair. But at the end of it all, this was discovered."
Roland withdrew the wanted poster from his pocket and laid it upon the man's desk.
"Confirmed criminals, if this is to be believed, even before they attempted to rob us."
@[Flip]
Sit down, shut up, don't touch anythin'
"That's about th' all of it," Addy confirmed. Roland had given the facts clearly, and there was just a bit she could add. "Was th' canyon a couple miles th' other side'a th' Rock Creek station." Speed should know the one. "Bodies are still there, what th' critters left of 'em. I can show ya, if ya need, gotta take some supplies out ta th' station anyway."
The image on the paper Roland handed Speed was a fair representation of the leader of the bandits...the first to die. The text proclaimed that Roy Gruber was wanted or numerous crimes, with a reward offered in the amount of one-hundred dollars. Included was that Gruber was often seen with the Barton brothers.
On the back, in pencil, 'KALSPL EVGN $50 HIRIE'
"Got their horses, tack an' weapons over to th' Millegan barn," Addy set a small pack on Speed's desk, "an' this is th' rest of their belongin's, save th' clothes, of course." Even brigands deserved their dignity, and besides, the clothes really weren't of much value.
Weedy stayed very quietly at the back of the room, hoping not to be tossed out!