"Well..." She sniffed loudly, crossed her arms, and walked over to the table where the miners sat and began chatting them up.

"Have a seat, Mr. Morgan. I would say that I am a bit disappointed that you're not for a little gamble, but in this case I think it's Miss Hawthorne here that'd be emptying out your pockets. I barely avoided such a fate just moments ago, so I can surely sympathize," he said, finishing with a congenial smile.

"Now, I think that Mr. Darling was about to explain to us the conventions of the game of whist. As I said earlier, I have only a passing familiarity with the game myself, and only that which I gleaned from reading Hoyle's Book of Games." He smiled meaningfully as he finished the sentence, and began to shuffle the deck of cards he had in hand.

As it has been known to do, the time flew by in the passenger car. Randolph explained the peculiars of whist, and they played a few rounds of that after which Darrel demonstrated another game called Shrink. Whether it was the pleasant conversation and games for some, or rest and solitude for others, a ride which otherwise might have dragged on took them into the black of night rather easily.

When just about everyone had decided to wrap up the card games, the train's brakes came on, and came on hard. A loud cacophonous screeching sound of metal grinding on metal rang throughout the train for a few long seconds that seemed more like an eternity, and then with a shudder and the sort of jerk that came only with impact, the conveyance came to an abrupt stop.

The playing cards that Darrel had been shuffling seemed to fly throughout the compartment as the gambler was thrown to one side of the car. He stood up after the train completely stopped and brushed the dirt off his shoulders and elsewhere on his clothing.

He placed a hand gingerly on Jenny Lynn's shoulder, and another on Coraline's. His contact was not overly familiar, merely reassuring - or at least intended to be so. He removed his hands after just the briefest of touches. "Not to worry folks! It’s probably just a few banditos looking to grab some quick cash. I’m sure if everyone cooperates with them, no one will get hurt."

Morgan stood, his eyes looking to the windows for any hint of activity outside. Glancing at the two entrances to the passenger car, he spoke quietly, "Daniel? Gabby? Did you boys tell me you were interested in being deputized again?"

Daniel grabbed at the armrest of the seat to keep himself from sliding around too much. His eyes narrowed at Darrel's response to the situation, and at Caleb's question Daniel nodded vigorously. "Sure thing, Marshal. Just point the way."

Daniel bent down to reach under his seat and extracted a long package that was wrapped in a dull gray cloth. A crucifix tumbled from under his shirt as he bent down, though he replaced it near his heart after he stood again.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:31, Wed 22 Aug 2012.

With the exception of Darrel Parkins, everyone in the car managed to keep their seats, though it was a mighty struggle to do so for most folks, with the exception of Randolph. The writer maintained a sense of unbelievable poise and seemed completely unaffected by the collision, sitting just as comfortably as had nothing happened in the car.

One of the burly miners jumped up and scowled at Darrel. "Sit down, ya pantywaist! The money I’ve got on me is all I have to stake me a claim in Denver, and I ain’t givin’ it up to no banditos or nobody else for that matter without a fight!"

More politely to Coraline and Jenny, he said, "Now ladies, you might wanna get down there. There's gonna be some lead flyin' soon." Nudging his buddy Joe, the two men pull out pistols and hunker down behind a seat, keeping a sharp eye out for trouble.

Randolph bristles a bit as Parkins places a hand on Coraline, but subsides when it seems the man means no offense.

"Are you quite alright, Miss Hawthorne? Mrs. Linkous?" he asks solicitously, "As our rough compatriot suggests, it would be wise to take what cover these seats will afford."

His actions suit his words, as he crouches down between the seats.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:58, Wed 22 Aug 2012.

Morgan addresses the miners, drawing his pistol as he does so. "Gentlemen, make no mistake, if these fellas want a fight, I'll be the first to give 'em one. No one's stealing from anyone if I have anything to say about it. But I'm a United States Marshal. I'd prefer to put outlaws in a cell, rather than a grave. If circumstances permit, I'd be obliged if you let me try to talk some sense into these bandits before any shooting starts."

The older of the two men looked impressed at the pronouncement that the man was with the Marshal service, but eventually shrugged, relenting. "I don't like killin' folks any more than most people, but we just don't see fit to let anybody take our money. It's all we got, you see. If you can take them into custody, well so much the better. We'll follow your lead, Marshal."

In reply to Caleb Morgan (msg # 60):

Gabby nods as well, then trundles over to his seat, reached into the overhead compartment, and withdraws his pickaxe. He regretted not having his shotgun, but that was packed away in the baggage car. He glares at Darrell. "I'm with Bill n' Joe. ain't gonna let no two-bit thievin' cocksucker take all I got in the world without a fight, pardon my french."

He looks at Caleb. "I'll back you're play. Jes' wanna be ready in case things get ugly."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:32, Wed 22 Aug 2012.

Coraline threw an amused glance Darrel's way and peered out of one of the windows to see if anything was happening outside.  "Has anyone even seen any bandits?  Or are you just assuming that we're being robbed?  Perhaps there was a cow on the tracks."  Nevertheless, she joined Randolph to seek the relative safety offered by the seats.  She flicked open the fan that was tied to her wrist and waved it lazily back and forth in her face.

"Miss Cora, that would be a pleasant surprise," Gabby grumbles, "and I have no doubt that if'n we was Back East, that would be a reasonable assumption, but out here in Kansas if a train done get's stopped, you expect trouble and git pleasantly surprised afterward if'n it's not. We're on a Union Blue line...prime huntin' fer the James gang, and I don't care what the dime novels say about him...he ain't nothin' but a murderin' scoundral. Or it could be a rival rail line...They don't call it the Great Rail Wars fer nothin'. My nephew's family an' I once had to wait three whole days fer a train 'cause some spat between the railfolk lead to a trestle gettin' blowed up an' the last train on it plungin' to a fiery demise with all aboard."

The men and women in the passenger car waited there in silence for what was only a matter of minutes, though time spent quietly waiting often stretched unnaturally into what seemed like hours. After some time, a faint sound of people shouting can be heard from towards the front of the train, though no gunshots rang out into the night.

Daniel chose not to wait for the car to be overrun before picking a better position for his particular talents. He moved forward towards the front of the car, having heard noise from that direction. He then slid off to the side so anyone entering the car from the car ahead of theirs wouldn't be able to see him until they were within striking distance.

He crouched down and tossed aside the gray cloth that had been covering his weapons. The wooden one he placed on the ground beside him, while the metal one was in his hand, warmth at its touch spreading through his fingers and up his arm.

After several mostly silent minutes passed, a jolly looking man with a belly that had clearly been years in the making walked into the passenger car with an air of authority. Everyone had seen him earlier, as he was the train's conductor.

"Sorry for the delay folks," he began before seeing the glint of several shooting irons pointed his way. "Whoa, whoa, put those things away. No need for that kinda thing. Not anymore, leastaways - at least I hope. Not with me, anyhow. Sit up, sit up." The man gave a pat to the Peacemaker that sat holstered at his waist, as if to show that he too had a gun if they needed one but that he wasn't holding it now, so everything would be alright. He rubbed his belly round and round and chuckled.

"No, not anymore. Looks like some desperadoes were waiting to ambush the train. Can’t rightly say what happened to ‘em, maybe wild animals or something, but it looks like they bought the farm before we got here. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to stop before we plowed into the barricade they put up. The engine’s derailed and the boiler’s torn up something fierce, so it looks like we won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Just sit tight, the brakeman has set off to the nearest town and should be back in a few hours with some help and transportation."

Upon seeing that it was the conductor and not, in fact, someone intending harm to the good folk on the train, Daniel wrapped his weapons back up and stood near the conductor waiting for him to finish. Once the conductor completed his report, Daniel raised a single finger on his right hand, "Scuse me, Mister Conductor? Izzere anythin' I c'n do ta be o' help? I got no skill in fixin', but if yeh need extra hands, I'd be happy ta help get us movin' again."

Gabby holds his pickaxe ready to strike down any varmint that may show it's cotton-pickin' head...

He relaxes when the conductor appears, but tenses again when told about the dead bodies all around. "I don't like the sound o' that much." He looks at Caleb. "Reckon we oughta check it out?"

He squinted over at Daniel, and then shook his head. "I don't think we got much you can do about that particular problem, son. The brakeman is headed for the nearest town between here and Dodge. It's only about ten or twelve miles away, and he took a horse to go get some help, so he should be back in a few hours. They'll get this train fixed right up, don't you worry."

He heard Gabby talking, and couldn't help but comment. "As for checkin' it out, well, it's somethin' to see, that it is. They were torn up pretty bad. You’re welcome to have a look for yourself if you like—but you better have a strong stomach.”

The rotund man patted his belly, and looked toward the rear of the train. "I'm gonna go walk down the track a mile or so and put down some signals, so any oncoming trains know there's trouble in time to stop. Be back in a jiffy!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:32, Fri 24 Aug 2012.

"Mr. Conductor, I reckon ya oughta not be alone...them animals might still be out there." Gabby says. "Would you mind some company, jest in case? I can git my shotgun out o' the baggage car if'n you wait five minutes."

Randolph rises to his feet , not looking in the least chagrined. He offers a hand to Coraline and Jenny to return to their seats. Then he resumes his seat, as well.

"Say, conductor, where'd the brakeman get the horse? Do you carry them along like lifeboats at sea?"

Morgan addressed the conductor. "Sir, I think Mr. Clarke is giving you some sound advice. I'd think it best if you weren't out there alone."

Morgan opened his coat to display his star to the conductor. "I'm United States Marshal Caleb Morgan. If you wouldn't mind, I would like to have a look at what happened to those boys. Perhaps it was only the work of wild animals, but I'd like a chance to examine things."

Randolph rose from his seat.

"Say, Marshall, my legs could do with a stretch. There might be something newsworthy in this, I suppose." He reaches down a flat black stetson from the overhead and bows to the ladies, "I don't imagine we'll be long."

"I 'ppreciate the concern, but I reckon not too many animals are gonna bother old Mike Jones, here. I've got a double action Peacemaker here, and I've got a shotgun in the baggage car that I was gonna pick up on the way over. Know how to use it too. Fought in the war, you see. Long time ago. Don't much like killin', though, and that's all war is so when my time was up, I figured I'd find a new trade. Put on some pounds too, sos I can see how you'd figure I'd make a good meal for a coyote or somethin'," he said, taking a moment for a deep, rumbling belly laugh at the last.

"As for horses, well, I guess you didn't bring one then. We got a horse car out back - the one right before the caboose. I suppose they're like a life preserver at that, though I never rightly thought about it that way. Never know these days, what with the rail wars such as they're callin' em or desperadoes or maybe just mechanical troubles with the engine. Good to have somethin' to ride on in case the train has a problem."

As Caleb started talking, Mike looked rightly impressed to see a United States Marshal. "Let me just say that it offers me some comfort to have a proper lawman aboard. Like I said, if you wanna take a look at it - go right ahead and get on up to the front."

He pointed out the window, and it was apparent from the view they had that the train was on something of a curve. The desert to the rear of the train is dark and empty. The view to the front of the train is obscured by a large cloud of steam leaking from the locomotive, and light from the engine’s head lamp seems to shine over the area out front as well.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:53, Fri 24 Aug 2012.