"The law is the law."
"Mining's not everyone's choice of hobbies, it just happens to be mine."
"Step inside."
The door slamming, the lock turning, Del Vincent felt sick to his stomach.
Marshal? What's gonna happen to me?" Del asked, I mean I didn't kill anyone, and I didn't resist when called to surrender. I complied as best I could, it was Freeman what refused ta give up, shoved me to the ground with the intent to shoot it out. I weren't no part'a his plan, Marshal, none at all."
Guyer stopped and half turned, "I'm not sure Vincent. That will be up to Judge Harland Bryant to decide, or a jury, if one's called. Can't rightly say how this will go for you, but I'll testify you did fire on us but that you tried to surrender when called to do so, I'll do that much." He paused, "You get breakfast and supper from the Lickskillet unless the weather gets in the way. The ladies won't deliver in the rain or snow, I'll have to go for it. Buckets in the corner for your necessities and I'm amenable to bringing coffee when it's on. Oh, and I'll bring in a canteen so you have water."
With that he stepped out of the cell block, leaving the door open as was the normal custom. Had Guyer been expecting a jailbreak attempt, that door would have been bolted, or, Guyer could have used any one of the cells in the vacant County Sheriff's office, or even chained him up in the basement.
Morgan stood there and thumbed rounds back into his Winchester. He looked at Flandry. "Pleasure...I'm William Morgan but most people call me Morgan..." He looked back at the boy as Ralph asked if he needed a doctor.
"Son, a man holds a knife on you and you aren't scared, you're a fool..." Morgan reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. "...You did just fine, considering." Morgan walked over and crouched, picking up the knife and sticking it in a pocket, then he turned back to Ralph and the boy.
"Sir, if you'll help the boy back to his parents, I'll take care of these bodies with the Marshal. Their guns are still out in the street. I will go tell him what happened and turn these in to him."
Ralph got a name back from the stranger, "Fair enough, Morgan it is. Should tell ya this town is not normally like this."
Morgan had words for the lad too, "Son, a man holds a knife on you and you aren't scared, you're a fool..."
Abraham swallowed, dry mouthed, "Oh I was scared alright." He reached down under his jacket, then looked up at the men, "Don't feel nothing, don't think I'm bleeding."
Morgan reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. "...You did just fine, considering."
"Think if you were stabbed, you'd feel something, son. You should be fine," Ralph smiled down on the boy.
Morgan walked over and crouched, picking up the knife and sticking it in a pocket, then he turned back to Ralph and the boy.
"Sir, if you'll help the boy back to his parents, I'll take care of these bodies with the Marshal. Their guns are still out in the street. I will go tell him what happened and turn these in to him."
"Alright, though I have no idea where you live, kid?" replied Ralph.
"I'm Abraham Kaufman, butcher's son," the boy explained.
"Oh sure!" Ralph had never even met the butcher, he didn't go purchase meat for the saloon stew, that was Messalina's job.
Ralph turned to Morgan "I didn't see how it started but I know there are witnesses in the saloon I think. Tell the Marshal. If he wants to talk to me about my role in all this, he knows where ta find me."
"Oh and stop inta the saloon some time, first drink is on the house, second on me," he declared.
"The law is the law."
"Mining's not everyone's choice of hobbies, it just happens to be mine."
With Del Vincent behind bars, there was still work to be done out on the street. Guns lying loose, bodies in plain sight, and the last of badmen to contend with, but then there was the stranger and Ralph who had had a hand in all of this, both in a good way.
Men had died, once again on their streets, and that did not sit well with Speed as he strode to where the alley was, where the last man had run to. So that would be the place to start when he heard voices coming from between the buildings and both Ralph and the stranger, along with a young boy in tow emerged, the Ralph was saying;
"I didn't see how it started but I know there are witnesses in the saloon I think. Tell the Marshal. If he wants to talk to me about my role in all this, he knows where ta find me."
"Oh and stop inta the saloon some time, first drink is on the house, second on me," he declared.
"That's a fact, Ralph. Thanks for the help. Mister, I'm Speed Guyer, Town Marshal, and grateful for your help as well." He paused looking down at the boy, "Abraham Kaufman, how did you get yourself mixed up in all of this?" There had been more than enough bloodshed for one day, and Speed was grateful he would not be going to see the Kaufmans with news of their son's injury or death.
"Heard that offer of a drink, I'll gladly stand a round once I get this mess cleaned up. The undertaker should be showing up any time now to take care of the bodies, I'll take the guns to the jail and then, I will join you boys at the Stardust, if you're of a mind to." He added.
Morgan nodded and extended his right hand, his left still holding his rifle. "William Morgan, most people just call me Morgan..." He looked around as if getting his bearings, then he pointed. "The two men I faced...the one's gun should be where he fell. The other one took cover behind the water trough. Sorry for the holes in it. He threw the gun out when he acted like he was giving up, then he took off down that alley when you were dealing with your men." Morgan next poked a thumb over his shoulder. "He's down around the corner. One bullet from Mr. Flandry and the other from me when he tried to knife the boy."
Morgan pointed to his gear resting against the wall of one of the stores. "I need to get a room for the night. The Hotel is fine. I have been on the trail for quite a while and would like a bath and soft bed..." Morgan then turned back to the marshal and bartender. "Once I get that sorted and my horse taken care of, I will definitely be taking you up on that drink offer..." Morgan glanced over at Ralph. "...that saloon of yours serve food?"
Brendan had watched the confrontation wrap up from his spot behind a porch railing. It seemed like Ralph, Speed, and the newcomer had things under control and the Evergreen hands were going to surrender, until one of the men was killed, one was hauled off to jail, and the other sprinted off down a side street.
Brendan was too far away to be of any real use in catching the runaway, but he headed down the side streets anyway, just to see if he could see how everything would end. By the time he heard the two gunshots that allowed him to find the alleyway where the dead man lay, Ralph and the stranger were talking with the Marshal.
And who should be with the men but a shaken-looking Abraham Kaufman?
Brendan hurried forward, rifle clutched loosely in one hand. "Abraham, what are you doin'?" He nodded at Ralph, made momentary eye contact with Marshal Guyer, and strode forward to his employer's son. Surely Abraham hadn't gotten involved in this whole mess? Maybe he'd only been a witness to the killing of the last Evergreen hand?
"The law is the law."
"Mining's not everyone's choice of hobbies, it just happens to be mine."
"Best I head over and see about young Wigfall and the two ladies." He said to the men and turned heading toward the Wigfalls Boarding House to look in on Hector. He had lost sight of the girls, Misses Clara Lutz and Miss Constance Staub, and he needed to know if either or both were hurt. He had seen Doctor Danforth tending to Hector, but things had changed pretty fast and now everyone was gone, except poor Mister Brown, waiting for undertaker Malcome Jolly. He stopped to have a look which he wished he hadn't.
If he'd been at the office, perhaps none of this would have happened, then again that was simply wishful thinking. He had been on business, and this had happened. He walked on to the boarding house and stepped up to the door, knocking heaviy. Perhaps he should have just walked in, but he had already knocked so he waited. The boy had shown real courage, he knew that much, just not the details.
Something needed to be done about this, something serious and enforceable!
Ralph was actually glad to see Brendan show up, rifle in hand. Not that they needed his rifle anymore but Brendan knew the boy.
"Abraham, what are you doin'?" He nodded at Ralph, made momentary eye contact with Marshal Guyer, and strode forward to his employer's son.
Abe smiled at the sight of Brendan, they worked side by side sometimes at the butcher shop and the boy liked the easy going quick to smile man.
"I didn't do anything. This man grabbed me and he was gonna stab me when these men shot him dead. I'm good though," Abraham explained to Brendan.
Ralph chimed in, "Hey, can you get the kid back to his home. I don't even know where he lives. Tell his Ma he ain't in any trouble, he didn't do anything wrong but be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Abe added, "Well, I do know where I live." Did the bearded man think he was five? Still he was grateful to the men for saving his life.
Brendan's eyebrows rose as Abraham detailed his involvement in the recent events. The boy was lucky to be alive. He could have ended up just another casualty of the day's violence.
Brendan nodded at Ralph. The bartender had better things to do besides walk a boy home that day. "Sure, I'll take him home. C'mon, Abe." He held out a hand and beckoned to the younger boy. "I know you know where you live," he said soothingly, trying to forestall any more protests. "But I'm gonna head that way with you. I gotta get back to the shop anyway."
He headed back up the alley, figuring Abe would follow along with him. If the boy was anything like himself, he'd want someone beside him after a frightening experience like that, even if he didn't know it or wouldn't admit it. If Abe had been a little older, Brendan would have taken him to the saloon to get a stiff drink. Sort of celebration of a rite of passage, being involved in a fight.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
"Sure, I'll take him home. C'mon, Abe." He held out a hand and beckoned to the younger boy.
Abraham nodded willing enough to go with Brendan but most definitely not willing to take his hand. Abe was eleven almost twelve not five. Adults!
"I know you know where you live," Brendan continued, "But I'm gonna head that way with you. I gotta get back to the shop anyway."
"Sure, boy have I got some story to tell Father," Abe was calming down some now from the scary part of it and warming to the sheer excitement which he had fortunately made it thru unharmed.
He also made it a point not to look back at the dead man, that was the worst part of it all. He had seen dead people at funerals but this had been so different.