Travis Sunday lead his pards south on the main thoroughfare. They had passed the places they had come to know over these several days: Hatfield's, the bakery, the jail and Chen's--with a pair of hunters occupying Garrett Rasmin's post in front of the laundry--and the saloons at the corner of Griffin and Fourth.

The five men, who would count a half-dozen while momentarily passing the jail where Cole was incarcerated, had departed the Beehive shortly after Randy Oldman arrived. Fob watches showed nine-twenty when the men left the relative comfort of the saloon, fastening their coats, pulling hats down low and turning up collars against the cold.

Fortunately, the icy wind is at their backs as they travel south. Sunday continues, passing the hide-yard and the Occidental. Then the post office and the telegraph office. Now leaving the kerosene-lamplit thoroughfare, the gunslinger continues a course similar to the one he took yesterday morning, south towards the ridge and away from the town and the farms and ranches--and the Fort atop the hill--surrounding The Flat. The waning moon provides enough light to navigate.

Sunday walks until satisfied of two things: that the men have reached a place where they can jaw without being overheard, and that they haven't been followed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:44, Wed 19 Feb 2014.

Cole Trayne reads the various notices and advertisements on page 3. He goes slow to enunciate and to stretch the time. The paper is a respite from boredom, if nothing else.

He reads of mundane events such as church bake sales--both the AME and the First Baptist--town hall meetings, cattle association meetings, hearings and the like. Kate makes a comment about Grandma Dedmon's sweet cakes.

The wrangler reads of births and deaths and other announcements. One child was born on one of farms, and of course he recognizes the names of the dead.

He recites the goings-on at the Fort: reports of the departing officers, new command structures and change in units.

He reads the brief mentions of horse races and base ball. There is a brief mention of the possibility of a traveling roadshow stopping in The Flat this summer.

Cole and Kate make small talk throughout. She seems relaxed, having changed from her cross-legged position to a curled-up seat in the corner of the cell, pressed against the bars shared between their cells and the wall with the gates.

The wrangler finds his eyes getting tired, having read nearly three-quarters of this edition of the Echo. He has been reading for some time. Catching a glimpse of Kate yawning, he finds himself unable to stifle his own now.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 1):

"ENS," starts Randy, "Miss Soledad Sanchez wants to join you for breakfast at the Planters tomorrow morn. I don't says you needs to look the barber's clerk, but best be refined when about her. That's not just for polites, now, but for me s'well."

Swinging his attention to the rest of the men, Mr. Big'un proclaims, "if'n any more ladies wants to pass note or messages on to any more of you'un fellers, then get 'em you're ownselfs." His laugh causes a plume of breath-steam to form about his head.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 3):

After Randy's declaration, ENS rubs his chin.

I wonder what she wants? But don't worry Randy, I shall make you proud! Did she mention a specific time?

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 2):

Cole stops reading and glances up at Kate.

Reckon we could both use a break.

With a hint of mirth in his voice, he adds..

Hopefully, the stories are making you tired, and not the sound of my voice.

The wrangler then heads for his bunk.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 2):

First things first.  Thank you for joining me out here in the cold.

Second, I want to be upfront in case some of you wish to excuse yourselves.  Our friend is in prison and I am awaiting trial.  Neither of these situations will "work out for the best."  I may catch a break with a jury of my peers but my attorney thinks it would be great if I were to go away for a couple of years in a plea bargain.  That's not going to happen, if I have anything to say about it... and since I'm not in the hoosegow I do.

So the conversation about to happen may, and by may I mean will, lead to a discussion of a felonious nature. Should things continue on the path that we're on, then simply being here tonight may result in a conspiracy charge.  I recommend anyone who wants to keep their hands and criminal records clean take their leave now, with my sincere and honest thanks for coming this far.   I only ask you keep the last minute where I discussed intentions private.

Travis waits for anyone to leave.

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 5):

Indian Kate drags herself to the bunk, situating herself as she was before, perpendicular to the length of the bunk and huddled in at the end of it.

Closing her eyes, she says "I like the sound of your voice."

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 6):

I'm not a lawman anymore. You may proceed.

In reply to Indian Kate (msg # 7):

The wrangler slightly inclines his head.

Goodnight ma'am.

With a mild look of distaste at his current accommodations, Cole shrugs and reclines on his less than clean Bunk.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 6):

Jake had the collar of his coat pulled up against the wind, and his hat pulled low over his eyes. It was mighty cold, but he could remember it being lots worse than this in the army, when he often went without shoes after the first year of the war, and had only his threadbare cotton uniform to hold off the winter's chill.

He smiled a thin little smile in response to Travis's plain talk. "I been a rebel most of my live-long days, an' I don't see that changin' now."

Glancing over at Travis, he continued, "I don't see a thing wrong with what you did. 'Twas a straight-up, honest fight, with each man havin' the chance to win out over the other. I'm right glad you won, an' the other feller didn't."

"Now, I don't know as much about Cole's sit-u-aeshunn, 'cause I warn't thaere. But he strikes me as a straight-up feller, an' I trust y'all's judgment 'bout him, as well."

"So, then . . . I reckon I'll go as far as I can to side with you boys, includin' most likely doin' some a' them fee-lonious things. Then again, thaere's some lines I won't cross, an' I won't know whether you'll be crossin' 'em 'til I hear what's bein' proe-posed."

"If I'm in after I hear what's what, then it's easy. If'n ye're proe-posin' things I cain't abide, why then I'll jest up an' walk away an' keep my mouth shut about it. Reckon it's up to y'all as to whether you want me to stay an' listen in, not knowin' whether I'll ride with you or not 'til I hear what's proe-posed."


OOC: Edited to correct spelling error.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:18, Fri 21 Feb 2014.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 10):

ENS had been both shivering and sadly pondering Travis' statement... when Jake spoke he listened closely and nodded at the end.

Jake, you are a wise man...

Gentlemen, I am in agreement with Jake about Travis, Cole and the situation, but I fear my tolerance for illegalities is somewhat lower than his. I am not worried about "conspiracy" charges for tonight since I'm sure none of you would tie me in if I decided to leave at some point. Likewise, I will keep to myself anything said in confidence.

I'd like to provide a more moderate viewpoint as you plan; but if the plan ends up in illegal activity, I will have to bow out. I'll let you decide if you'd rather that I go now.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:42, Fri 21 Feb 2014.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 11):

So be it.

Rasmin has been appealed to morally and financially, then warned and also threatened.  He hasn't budged. So he has made his choice as far as I'm concerned.  The law here is stupid but not malevolent.  I'd like to avoid killing them.

So do we break Cole out of jail; take him from Rasmin or deal with things in San Francisco?

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 12):

"Travis, I see eye-to-eye with ENS over there--I wanna see what we can do before kickin' up dust. You fellers know what'll happen if that happens, too. Let's not forget how we all felt when we lost the funny talker." Randy doesn't crack a smile.

"Now, you know I don't got lines I don't mind crossin', but I gotta know fer sure when I cross 'em on purpose. And just so you knows, you knows I'll cross any line with you."

Turning his attention to specifics, Randy continues with certain ideas he has. "We gots a small bit of time to work with Cole, right? Cain't somebody like Rojas get in write the Frisco mayor or California gubner to free up his case? Some of us can even head on to Frisco ahead of the business to try and get it handled.

"Cole would be safe with that rascal, if'n he headed back to Frisco. It wouldn't be no posh carriage ride, but he'd make it there safe 'nuff.

Now, Randy concludes with addressing Travis' issue. "And, far as you goes, you sure you got to the end of all that with that Caudell feller? I mean, maybe you can get something less like Vickers did--that boy looks like he'll get a whoopin' and that's 'bout all.

Rojas would know if Caudell could be bought, I figgurs."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 13):

Well they want to give me 20 or a noose but are offering 2 years.  I declined but would do a few months for the sake of everybody.

I could go to trial but would probably need to fight my way out if they didn't see things my way.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 14):

If it comes to Cole going to San Francisco, at least some of us should escort... how likely is it that Rasmin is using the bounty to get Cole alone in order to collect on a paid killing instead? Is there any way we could determine that? Maybe that Selman fellow would know?

And as far as Travis's case, can we get a feel for how a jury might likely decide? Randy's idea of seeing if Caudell is amenable to a bribe is definitely worth looking into as well.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 12):

In dealing with Cole's situation, the first and last option puts us in the public eye. Rescuing Cole out on the plains would keep our activities away from legal scrutiny. The disadvantage is although I'm a decent enough tracker we may lose his trail. There are less uncertainties with a jail break. That would be my choice. And Travis, you will not spend one minute inside of a courtroom or jail cell if I or my Schofield have anything to say about it.

Jake's expression turned to a scowl when Randy spoke of Weasel just receiving a "whoopin'" as a punishment for his part in the dust-up out at their camp, and for trying to steal Ghost. The ex-Wells Fargo man had not heard this news, and it did not sit well with him.

He made no comment as the other men discussed the various options. He reckoned that they needed to decide how they thought that they could best deal with Travis's and Cole's situations, then he would make his own decision.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 17):

Tell me about Vickers.  What's going on with him?

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 17):

"I don't see no harm in making diff'rent plans, but we gots to be sure the right plan is hatched." Randy speaks up.

"Firstly JEB, cain't we agree to try to get word to California first on Cole's account? Don't we need Cole's word on the matter? At least, we can start that whilst we plans out some high plains adventure." He is demonstrative to the man of which he is silently most concerned.

"Next, there's some chances for diversions about town. We all needs to do our best to pull all our knowin's into the hat for everybody to ruminate." Mr. Big'un removes his hat while his makes this point. He taps the head band before returning the Stetson to his oversize noggin.

"As for me--and I knows you fellers know how I'm gonna go through with this--Uncle Billy is sparkin' up a Queensbury fight here in town. If'n all goes well, we can get a good draw and pull a Fort Worth; without the killin'." The once-winningest pugilist boxes the wind. Next, he throws a couple of punches toward Travis, who puts up his hands to intercept. The crack of the perfect placement sounds like thunderclaps. The shootist shakes his reddened hands from the sting.

"And, boys, if we do plan to make it off the plains ahead of any ole soul, we gotta play our cards right. We need extra horses, supplies, allies, and hole-ups. We don't got no straight-flush to win that hand. We need Aces and Kings up our sleeves." Randy tugs at his coat sleeves. "Sorry JEB, we need to hear where they is comin' from! And where we is goin'."

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 18):

Jake shook his head in response to Travis's question. "'Cordin' to what Randy's sayin', he's bein' let down mighty easy. But this is the first I've heard of it. I don't know nuthin' more about it than you do."

The rifleman reflected a moment, then added, "Shore don't seem to square with the way they're comin' down on you like a load of bricks, does it? I mean, if'n they're lookin' to lighten up on a man like him, they shore as hell oughta lighten up on you, too."

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 20):

I agree Jake, there does seem to be a disparity of justice between these cases; perhaps it should be brought up with Senor Rojas.

Also, Randy makes a good point... do you know what resources will be thrown at you for a blatant illegality like a breakout? Could troops from the fort get involved?

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 21):

I suppose the Army may get involved.  Randy, you said we could pull a Fort Worth?  What's that pull a jail break while everyone's at the boxing match?

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 20):

Handing the Fort Griffin Echo--which was tucked in his coat pocket--to Jake, Randy says, "read all about it."

Turning attention to Travis' query, the pugilist recalls the night in Fort Worth. "Somptin' like that, Travis. I mean to say, we gots a fight comin' up, a horse race, and who knows what else. There's bound to be a fire at the church or the cathouse just about any time now. Damned if there weren't likely to be a fire at the church durin' the horse race--shite happens."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 23):

ENS shakes his head at Randy's statement.

I know you are all angry and frustrated, but I beg you not to take it out on this town! If you must start a fire pick an abandoned building or a trash heap.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 23):

"Thanks, but it's too dark to read it out here," Jake replied when Randy handed him the newspaper.

"An' with this wind a-blowin', be a waste of time tryin' to strike matches to read by."

"You want it back, or want me to keep it 'til I can find some light to read by?"

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 25):

So what happens when Cole gets on the road first thing tomorrow? Do we ride? 

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 24):

"I ain't mad, not a bit--I is resolute. We gots two trails we might have to chose: one ain't got no danger, th'other gots peril o'plenty." Randy blows warm breath in his chilled hands. "We'll just have to see how things span out come time for action."

In general, the big man marks his opinion on the matter. In doing so, it's obvious why he puts his stakes in with the lot. "They is but one thing to keep in mind, and that is Cole done the right thing. I don't make no diff'rence how the job gets done, long as it gets done--the Major and Rojas taught me that. But, them peoples what thinks they is big bugs want him to come and stand trial for that. I guesses they gots a right to ask for that, but we gots a right to ask it not to happen.

"I thought I heard that judge what sat in that court today wants Cole to sit for Travis' trial, seein' as how he's a witness and all. If I'm wrong, things might be for naught. But, I dunno if a judge would send off a witness to what is said to be murder, if'n that be the case." Randy realizes he, too, is repeating himself now. His perturbation is perhaps due to that or due to apparent inaction. "I figgured you fellers woulda gotten that all worked out today."

Tapping the paper Jake now holds, Mr. Big'un says, "hold on to it. They is a part what said that Weasel feller is plea'ded to mischief whatnot 'stead of horse thievery. I don't speck he's gonna hang."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 27):

ENS listens to Travis and Randy, rubbing his chin.

Do you think Rasmin will try to leave tomorrow Travis? or have you heard something more concrete? I'm with Randy in that I thought the powers that be want Cole here as a witness. If you've heard different then we need to get Rojas to petition the judge.

Regardless, it may be prudent to post a watch on the jail... Lord knows Rasmin has with his gang of hunters!

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 28):

If I were Rasmin I'd be trying to get Cole out tonight.  I just assume he'd be trying his best to get out of town cleanly without anyone knowing. 

Travis shifts his weight and rubs his hands keeping them warm.

I'd like to make any decisions we can before we go back to bed tonight.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 29):

Gentlemen, you're over complicating the situation. We have but two choices. Break Cole out of jail tonight or wait until Rasmin takes him out on the trail to attempt a rescue. We don't know when or how that will occur since the sheriff wouldn't tell me anything before I gave up the badge. Therefore, the second option has too many unknown variables to be a viable choice. Travis and Randy, we go way back with Cole so we owe him our lives if necessary to get him out of this predicament. Jake and Ringgenberg, we would greatly appreciate your assistance but understand if this is beyond your comfort level. Make no mistake, what we are about to do is dangerous and men will die. The plan is simple. We saddle up, ride to the jailhouse, demand Cole be released or we start shooting. This ends now.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 30):

"JEB, that there is just reckless." The light of the moon is plenty to show the trailmate's concern.

"'Sides, I don't think the meetin' with Soledad in the morning is gonna be a waste of anybody's time. She gots something on her mind for ENS over here, and I betcha it's worth a hear."

Turning back to JEB, "anyways, I can guaran-damn-tee you, Rasmin ain't takin' Cole back by horse. He's gonna hop the nearest train to Frisco."

Then looking Travis dead in the eye, Randy instructs, "if I do get back to that town, boy, you best keep one hand on my shoulder, else I ain't gonna be found for week or two."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 31):

Jake stuck the newspaper that Randy had given him into a pocket of his jacket, planning to take a look at it later, when he had more light to read by.

The ex-Wells Fargo man stayed silent while JEB, Travis, and Randy continued their discussion as to the best way to rescue Cole. Once they had settled upon a course of action, Jake figured that he would have a difficult decision to make.

OOC: Edited to add missing word.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:15, Sun 02 Mar 2014.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 31):

ENS looks over to Randy

You think she has some information that might help our situation? Now I am intrigued.

Travis, do you think Rasmin would try to break out Cole? Because I don't believe the sheriff would just let him take Cole before other legal matters are settled. But that brings back an earlier question... if Rasmin is that desperate to get Cole, could he just be an assassin for the corrupt San Francisco government?

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 33):

No Rasmin will get him from the sheriff official like.  He would be wise to arrange it for a time when we're not likely to be ready, but he'll take him legally.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 34):

This is all the more reason to break Cole out of jail tonight. All I'm hearing is that any other time and the chance of getting him free is slim to nonexistent. We must take the small window of opportunity now.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 35):

"JEB, I don't think you gots your wits about you. I'm 'fraid you're gonna shoot your own foot afore you gots your gun out the holster. You do any damned fool thing now, you puts every last one of us in peril, most of all Cole. You'd be stringin' him up for certain. Even if'n you think tonight's our only chance, ain't a one of us ready to go on the lam. Ever since we met up in this spittoon of a town, you been doing the backwards of everything I said. I ain't held my tongue, but sure as Betsy held my dukes. If I gotta wallop you to knock some sense into you, I sure will." Randy expels steamy air from his nostrils with the effect as that of a bull doing the same.

The big man turns directly to JEB at this time. His frustration is growing into fury. "What's more, e'ry moment since leavin' that court today, that Rasmin's been ready to scrap, so don't think you is gonna catch anybody with their pants down."

Randy turns away from the former lawman.

"Travis, Jake, and ENS, it's time to shite or get off the pot--pick a side."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 36):

Jake had yet to hear how Travis, JEB, and Randy proposed to proceed. As near as he could tell, no agreement had yet been reached.

"I got no idea how y'all are plannin' to go about what ye're proposin'. Truth be told, I don't hear that no kind of agreement has been reached betwixt y'all."

Jake glanced over at Randy. "Iff'n ye're sayin' I got to choose now, I ain't agreein' to no pig in a poke. I ain't gonna be railroaded. Sorry, but I'm out."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 36):

JEB it sure would have been nice for you to turn outlaw when you had the keys to the damn jail.

How many men will be on Cole come the middle of the night?

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 38):

ENS looks between Randy and Jake.

Jake is right, no action has been decided... I'm not ready to say I'm out until that point, unless the issue is forced. I propose we set our own watch on the jailhouse to preclude Travis' concern of an overnight release to Rasmin and then see if Soledad has any news on this issue tomorrow morning.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 39):

What is Soledad going to tell us?

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 38):

I never had the keys but I reckon two will keep watch.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 40):

"I ain't got an idea what Miss Sanchez is gonna talk about. I just says she don't just talk 'bout the weather. If'n she asks for meet, it's gonna be something in your interest. That's all I is sayin'."

Shifting concerns back to the issue of Cole's incarceration, Randy says, "I'm just askin' y'all to pitch behind rash behavior or sensible planning. I didn't ask you to pick a plan--I ain't never said one, ain't never heard one. What I has offered is ideas we can start building on as a plan. What JEB is offerin' is a sure fired way to snap your neck in a noose.

"I cain't believe anybody is even thinkin' bustin' Cole out is a good idea, least of all an option."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 42):

Randy, while Cole is where we can get to him, with a clear view of the opposition we have a great option.  I'm leaning towards it.

Not tonight though.  We got no horses and no idea what's ahead.  It was stupid to let Cole lock himself up and stupid to retire a tin star while he was in there.  Now matters are worse.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 43):

The badge made no difference. It was forfeit the moment I stood up for you in court and my resignation was merely a formality.  The sheriff would see to that and would never let me near Cole regardless. In fact, the badge put me at a disadvantage since I was sworn to uphold the law. Now I'm free to do whatever it takes. But that's water under the bridge and we have Cole's incarceration to remedy. Waiting past tonight may be too late. He could be in Rasmin's custody by tomorrow.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 44):

Once again gentlemen, I find it hard to believe the town sheriff would let Cole go when he's involved with legal issues here. That tangled web works both ways. But if you truly believe that then we'd best get back to at least keep watch soon.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 44):

Travis nods his head towards JEB.  Fair enough.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 46):

Alright, it seems the consensus is to see what tomorrow brings. In the morning we retain Señor Rojas to represent Cole. He can at least determine the timing of Cole's extradition as a starting point for our planning.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:36, Sat 08 Mar 2014.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 47):

Okay then.  We'll see what tomorrow brings.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 48):

ENS is clearly pleased at the choice of restraint for now...

Excellent gentlemen! But will we be setting a watch on the jailhouse?

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 49):

I don't think it's necessary for tonight. Sheriff Cruger will follow protocol and won't turn over Cole until he's cleared it with the judge. Unless anyone has further comment I think we're done here. I'm returning to the Beehive.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 50):

"We re-assemblin' at any par-ticular time an' place tomorrow?" Jake asked.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 51):

ENS pulls his coat tighter against the wind.

I suggest we follow the sheriff here to the Beehive for that discussion... I'm definitely ready for another of those "Irish Coffees"!

ENS will walk with JEB to the Beehive.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 52):

"All right," Jake replied to ENS's suggestion that they return to the Beehive, and he fell into step with the Perfesser and JEB.

"Speakin' of drinks," he continued after the Easterner had mentioned Irish coffee, "other day over at the ho-tel I ran into a drummer who's traveled about a bit. He allowed that back east, there's folks who're mighty partial to a drink that some have taken to callin' 'the green fairy.'"

"Sounded to me like he might be pullin' my leg. You ever heard tell of such a thing, Perfesser?"

OOC: Edited punctuation as marked.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:27, Tue 11 Mar 2014.

Relieved cooler heads prevail, Randy's frustration dies down a bit. He knows there are many hours between now and the morning, but things seem easygoing now.

"So," Randy says as they head back together, "ENS is gonna have breakfast with Miss Sanchez, lucky dog. Hows 'bout I go with JEB and Travis to talk to that prosecutor? Jake, you check in on Cole to see how he's farin'.

"What ya'll think on that?"

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 54):

Sounds alright to me.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 55):

To Jake...

After breakfast at the Planters.

Travis follows Randy to the beehive.

The five men on the ridge come to terms. The ex-lawman from Missouri leads the way back to town, and towards the Beehive Saloon. Any man checking his fob would see that the hour is almost quarter-past ten.

Upon re-entering the town proper, the five pass through the intersection of the saloons and approach the jail. Rasmin's hunters are still stationed near the laundry. Sheriff Cruger and Mangy Mansfield occupy the jail's front porch.

Of course, the lawmen notice the five as they pass along the thoroughfare, but so do other townsfolk and revelers at the saloons.

When JEB and his compadres reach the Hive and enter, they are glad for the promise of relief from the cold.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 57):

As conspicuous as the five pards in the thoroughfare might be, so are the two lawmen on the porch. Randy makes certain to bid them a fine evening. "Have a good night, Sheriff." He tips his hat to the senior lawman. Looking squarely at the pungent patrolman, "and I hope you have a good night too, pig pirooter."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 58):

As they walk ENS answers Jake.

A yes, "La Fée Verte"... It's a spirit called absinthe. In Switzerland my mother warned me that it makes men crazy so I have never tried it; though a few of my colleagues have and it didn't seem to hurt them.

I recall that its preparation was a little involved... I guess I'd be surprised if it was available here on the flat!
This message was last edited by the player at 19:43, Wed 12 Mar 2014.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 57):

Once the men returned to the Beehive, Jake found a spot at the bar and waited until he had the bartender's attention. He remembered her as taking special pride in fixing fancy drinks, and decided to spend some of his winnings from Faro to indulge a whim.

"Reckon  I'll try me somma that ab-sin . . . one o' them . . ."

The rifleman lowered his voice, a little fearful that what he was going to say next would make him the subject of considerable amusement if he was overheard by other patrons at the bar. ". . . green fairy drinks."

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 60):

JEB gets a whiskey at the bar.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 61):

Travis joins JEB at the bar.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 60):

The men enter the Beehive Saloon, which buzzes as usual at this time of night. The blast of cold air draws many of the patrons to take notice of the group's entry, until someone closes the door behind them. Jake, JEB and Travis move to the bar, not really in unison as the place is crowded. They find places to stand at the bar, while Jake is the first to get the attention of Ruby Easterling.

She answers his low-voiced request by leaning in closer and turning her ear, as the Texan's words are lost in the noise of the place. Jake has to repeat his order, but she hears him this time and nods. She also acknowledges JEB's order and prepares the drinks.

Meanwhile, Randy and ENS linger near the door, taking in the various card tables and the general bustle in the place. Definitely busier now than when Mr. Big'un took his first shift that afternoon. The professor sees that Elias Bennington is no longer dealing at the Faro table. It is in fact Lottie Deno who is dealing now, with a full table of players--not to mention various onlookers--intent on her every move.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 63):

ENS shakes off the cold once the door is closed, opens his coat a little and joins the others at the bar. Once there, he orders a whiskey and an arbuckles.

After a short time at the Beehive, the men found themselves growing weary. Fatigue reminded them of the night before, when their rest was interrupted by the excursion to Jameson's ranch. They had gotten enough sleep to make it through this day, but as the hour reached 11 p.m. and the atmosphere in the Hive made private conversation next to impossible the men departed the warmth of the saloon, braving the biting cold air until they reached their respective lodgings. Sleep came fast for all five of the men.

Now, with the morning sun rising, the men awaken on Thursday, February 1st, Eighteen Hundred Seventy-Seven to the alluring smell of breakfast at the Planters and the Occidental hotels, as well as Mrs. Owsley's place.

Meanwhile, Cole Trayne wakes to find himself still in the small cell, being watched by Indian Kate. She remains hunched against the wall at the end of the lower bunk in her cell.

-----------

OOC: Players should state their intentions for the morning, beyond "going down for breakfast."

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 65):

ENS gets up and prepares himself for the day, dressing in clean clothes and shaving. After strapping on his Colt, he heads downstairs. He looks in the dining area to see if Miss Sanchez is already there; if not, he'll wait in the lobby for her arrival.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 65):

Travis goes through his rituals.  Cleaning his weapons and checking their functionality.  He dresses ready for a horse ride.  Ayasha remains foremost in his thoughts.  Today there may be news and he may need to ride.

When finished he breaks his fast.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 65):

JEB dresses in his usual fancy suit. He cleans and loads his pistols and fastens their holsters. He packs the remainder of his belongings in saddlebags and leaves them slung over the bedpost. Satisfied that he's ready to travel at a moments notice, he puts on his overcoat, grabs the Spencer, locks the door to his room and goes downstairs for coffee and biscuits.

OOC: removed orange text.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:29, Fri 21 Mar 2014.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 65):

Upon awakening Cole sits up and stretches his back to work out the kinks. Glancing in the direction of his cellmate, he gently nods.

Morning ma'am.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 65):

Jake finished up his breakfast at the Occidental, left some coins on the table, and rose to leave. The previous evening Randy had made some suggestions as to how they could start the morning, and had suggested that Jake could check in on Cole and see how he was doing.

After speaking with Cole at the hoosegow, Jake planned to head over to the Planters and see who had gathered there, which was the place that had JEB had picked for them to meet after breakfast.

Hope to hell that the wind's slacked up some, the ex-Wells Fargo man thought to himself as he pulled his hat down low before leaving the Occidental.

OOC: Edited to correct errors.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:09, Fri 21 Mar 2014.

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 69):

Kate stretches, too. She stands up from the bunk. "There is one nice thing about being locked up; no bother about what you are doing today. You get any shuteye?"

Randy finished his breakfast in an appropriate amount of time without dawdling. He hastened his travel to the Planter's to meet up with JEB and Travis. Heck, he might even be there in time to make the introduction for ENS and Soledad.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 66):

ENS is one of the first people to arrive at the dining hall. He does not find Miss Sanchez, but he waits only a few minutes before she arrives. They choose the table in the far corner, which at least for the moment they have to themselves.

"Gracias, senor. I thank you for your time this morning. I am ravenous. Let us eat and then talk."

Soledad helps herself to coffee and biscuits. Also, Mrs. Swartz distributes a single slice of ham to those who desire it. The Mexican woman enjoys her meal, smiling at the professor between bites.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 72):

Thinking of a second breakfast on his way to Planters, Randy Oldman also thought he might get there in time to introduce his friends.  He did not know that Soledad is an early riser and had already met the professor, himself eager to be on time to make her acquaintance.

Mr. Big'un finds the pair in the table at the corner. A few others have assembled for the breakfast, which Randy's nose signals the presence of ham, same as at Mrs. Owsley's this fine morning. Two seats remain unclaimed at the couple's table, or Randy could choose a spot with more room at one of the longer benches.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 70):

Richardson approached the jail after his breakfast. His druthers for the weather might be satisfied, as the frosty wind had dissipated. Still cold for a Texas morn, he felt that today might get warmer.

The rifleman finds Deputy Adamson and Chubby Wilson on the porch of the jail. Garrett Rasmin occupies the post near the laundry, where a succession of hunters had kept vigil last night when Jake and the others passed by on various occasions.

The deputy regards Jake on his approach, but waits for the man to speak.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 74):

Knowing he wasn't invited to the meal, Randy opts to eat that well deserved second breakfast on his own. He takes a seat on a bench. If seen by his friends, he'll nod in acknowledgement, but nothing more.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 67) and James E. Beauregard (msg # 68):

Having cleaned their weapons and dressed, Travis and JEB exit their rooms, on separate floors, at nearly the same hour. Eight-thirty o'clock, to be precise.

Travis enters directly into the hotel lobby and then dining area. He sees a few of his friends gathered there. The professor chatting with the raven-haired Mexican from the Frontier House; Randy Oldman as well. Pete Haverty sits at a common bench, enjoying coffee and speaking with another man. Others have gathered as well, some that Sunday doesn't recognize. There are still seats available; none private.

In the seconds that pass while Travis looks around, JEB descends and sees his old pard standing near the half-wall designating the dining area.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:14, Thu 20 Mar 2014.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 77):

Let's join the professor.

In reply to Indian Kate (msg # 73):

ENS smiles warmly as Soledad arrives.

It's my pleasure to meet with you Miss Sanchez. This way please.

ENS holds her seat for her then takes his own. He makes small talk during the meal, letting her get to the point of this meeting.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 78):

"Travis," Randy speaks slightly above the din, "you and JEB should join me over here." The actor motions to a couple of spots on the bench across from himself. "We oughta chat about what we is gonna do this morn."

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 78):

JEB nods and follows Travis' lead.

In reply to Indian Kate (msg # 71):

The wrangler shrugs and a slight smile momentarily appears on his face.

I've slept in worse. Many a day on the range, rain or snow, makes a man find value in a roof and a cot.

Cole pauses a moment, then continues.

Even these here cots.

Again, Cole pauses.

And this here roof.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 79):

"You come from New York, yes?" asks Soledad, holding a mug in two hands with elbows propped on the tabletop, while taking deliberate sips of her coffee. "Did you attend the theatres in New York City?"

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 82):

Kate moves to the gate wall. Leaning against it and listening to Cole, she nods. "I understand. I slept in worse, my own self."

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 75):

As Jake walked north on Griffin after leaving the Occidental, he was pleased to find that the cold wind that had been blowing yesterday and last evening had abated a little. He trudged past the intersection with Fourth where saloons were clustered on three of the four corner spots, and spotted Garrett Rasmin standing by a small building on his right, a little ways further down Griffin and past the jailhouse on his left.

Jake nodded to the bounty hunter, reflecting that it reminded him of times during the war when the common soldiers who might be doing their dead-level best to kill each other soon would meet amiably between the lines at night and trade Rebel tobacco for Yankee goods that were hard to come by in the South.

The rifleman halted his approach just short of the jail, his right foot casually placed on the first step up to the porch. "Mornin'," he said, nodding to the two men who were on the porch.

"I'd like to speak with Cole Trayne," he said, addressing his comments to the deputy who wore a badge. He could not remember the man's name.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 85):

The deputy shrugs. "All right. I was fixin' to check on him anyway. You need to leave your weapons out here."

In reply to Soledad Sanchez (msg # 83):

Well, I live in Buffalo, New York, which only has saloon shows such as yours. But I have had cause to go to New York City occasionally. I've attended a Shakespeare play at the Winter Garden Theatre before it was closed and a burlesque show by the "British Blondes"... That was a popular show!

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 86):

Jake nodded in response to the deputy's instructions, which made sense to him. Letting a man who was known to be friendly with one of the prisoners take his weapons inside the jailhouse was just asking for trouble.

He stepped up onto the porch and placed his Spencer carbine, Colt Peacemaker, derringer, and hunting knife down on the floorboards, up against the front wall of the jailhouse where they would be out of the weather.

"That's all of 'em," he told the deputy.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 88):

"All right. Chubby'll watch 'em." The deputy pulls a key ring from inside his duster and unlocks the pad lock on the jail door.

"I reckon you should remove your duster, too," he adds, opening the door. "Set it on the chair there."

Through the entryway, Jake sees the small jail house, with the two cells defined by iron bars, as well as a desk, table and cot taking up the sheriff's office space. Cole Trayne is in the near cell; Indian Kate in the far one.

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 89):

Travis hears Randy.  We'll visit the prosecutor after breakfast. 

Travis walks over to the professor and removes his hat.

May we join you or is this a private discussion?

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 89):

Upon seeing Jake enter the jail, Cole looks up from his bunk.

Howdy, Jake. I hope you brought something to eat?

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 91):

Jake nodded in response to the deputy's instrucing him to remove his duster. He did so, and placed it in one of the empty chairs on the porch, as the man had suggested.  He followed the deputy into the jail.

"Ma'am," he said, touching the brim of his hat when he saw Indian Kate leaning against the gate wall in her cell.

When Cole spoke up and said that he was hoping for something to eat, Jake turned to the deputy.

"Kin I do that? Bring him some food?"

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 92):

The wrangler interjects, although politely so.

Food AND drink.

Although, I reckon it is a little early for anything stronger than coffee...

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 92) and Cole Trayne (msg #93):

The big deputy, standing in the doorway, shrugs. "You can bring some food. It will save us the trouble. No alcohol. I reckon you can understand why."

In her cell, the talk of food brings a hopeful look to Indian Kate's face.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 90):

Soledad remains silent, apparently deferring to her breakfast companion. Still, she turns her head to face Travis Sunday for just a moment, with a look that makes Travis think: "if looks like that could kill, I wouldn't need this brace of revolvers."

In reply to Soledad Sanchez (msg # 95):

Seeing Soledad's look, ENS tries to be diplomatic.

Well Travis, Miss Sanchez and I are discussing theatre... you don't have much interest in that do you?

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 94):

"Sure," Jake replied to the deputy's statement that he reckoned the ex-Wells Fargo man understood why no alcohol could be provided to the prisoners. In truth, Jake couldn't see that a mug of beer would hurt anything, but he figured that beer wouldn't go all that well with breakfast any way.

Turning to Cole, Jake said, "I'll have to double back with some breakfast victuals, but I'll see what I can do."

"Reckon I can tote some along for you too, Miss," he added, addressing Indian Kate.

Jake paused for a moment, then cleared his throat. "How you gettin' along, Cole?" he asked.

OOC: Fixed minor punctuation error.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:58, Mon 24 Mar 2014.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 96):

Travis chuckles.  No I don't.  I don't care one bit.

He tips his hat.

Maam.

Travis finds a place for he and JEB and eats quietly, mostly speaking of Ayasha and his hopes of her recovery.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 97):

Oh, I reckon I'm getting along as good as can be rightly expected. The sheriff, and his boys here, haven't given me much cause to complain.

And my cellmate here is good company.

At that last part, the wrangler gestures subtlety in Kate's direction.

Randy partakes of his breakfast of ham, biscuits, and coffee--dang good coffee, that it--in peace and pleasure. He has an inexplicable grin about him while he uses his knife and fork ham-fistedly.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 98):

ENS continues to chat with Soledad about theatre, both local and back East, and a little general chatting about the recent events (as one might expect). After a reasonable time, he wraps up the chatting.

Well Miss Sanchez, this was a very pleasant breakfast... Thank you for your charming company!

Unless she has more to say, ENS will rise and again assist her with her chair, and then escort her out to the Planter's porch.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 101):

Soledad accepts the professor's escort, departing the Planters Hotel. Breakfast time has come to an end. Mrs. Swartz has begun to clean up after her patrons.

Travis, JEB, ENS and Randy find themselves on the long front porch. They see Jake Richardson approaching from the west.

In reply to Soledad Sanchez (msg # 102):

Before leaving the jail, Jake inquired as to whether there was anything that Cole wanted him to pass along to his pards, or anything more that he could do for him other than arranging for some breakfast.

After leaving the jail, the rifleman walked over to Hatfield's and arranged to have a platter of breakfast (enough for both Cole and Indian Kate) and a pot of coffee to be delivered to the hoosegow, "compliments of Jake."

Once that was taken care of, Jake headed for the Planters, where JEB had indicated that they should all meet some time after breakfast.

In reply to Soledad Sanchez (msg # 102):

ENS watches Soledad depart, then turns to the others.

Gentlemen, I must use the facilities. I shall be right back.

ENS heads to the Planters outhouse.

Cole Trayne was grateful for Jake's visit . . . and the promise of a good meal. Yesterday's stew tasted as good as any, but the small portion proved no match for his appetite.

He and Kate made small talk after Jake and the Deputy closed the jail house door. Maybe ten, maybe fifteen minutes later, the door opened again. To the dismay of the two cell mates, the sheriff enters this time; it is not the breakfast they had been expecting.

"Mornin'," says the lawman, glancing at both before positioning a chair and sitting in front of Indian Kate's cell.

"Kate," he starts, pausing immediately. "Kate, Mr. Jameson has petitioned the county to take custody of you, at least for now. The Judge, the prosecutor and I have agreed. Now it is your choice. You can leave here now, as the responsibility of Jameson and his sons until your sentencing. Or you can decline, and stay here until then."

Indian Kate takes the news quietly. She asks the sheriff for a minute to think about it. He rises, telling her to take all the time she wants while noting that Rory Jameson is waiting outside for her. He closes the door behind him. Cole hears voices on the porch.

In reply to Sheriff Cruger (msg # 105):

Kate moves to the iron-bar wall that separates her from the wrangler. She speaks softly through the bars. "I guess it ain't much of a choice," she confides. "Mostly, I do not want to seem too eager. I will be in Jameson's debt . . . " she adds, shrugging.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 104):

ENS returns to the porch soon and pulls his assembled friends in close. He spaeks low so that no one near them can hear.

Gentlemen, Miss Sanchez slipped me a note during breakfast... she wants me to meet with her after tonight's show. It seems we'll have to wait a bit longer to find out what she wants. Oh, and sorry for the subterfuge... I just wanted to make sure the note wasn't of a personal nature before revealing it.

So, what next?

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 107):

"It's time to talk to them lawyers. What's that Caudell feller and a visit to Rojas, too."

Nudging ENS, Randy jokes, "So, she's so purdy she makes your tongue get in the way of your eye teeth so's you cain't see what your sayin', huh?"

In reply to Indian Kate (msg # 106):

Cole smiles slightly, as he responds in a low voice.

I reckon most anyplace is better than a cell.

Provided, of course, the price of that debt you mention is not too high.

How well do you know Jameson?

The wrangler allows his face to betray a slight look of concern.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 108):

OK Randy this is your cattle drive.  We'll move out when you're ready.  If anyone sees an Indian let me know.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 108):

Me and Caudell ain't on friendly terms. I'll leave it to you gentlemen to talk some sense into him. I'm going to have a chat with the outlaw. Meet back here at noon.

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 109):

Kate sighs. "I know him. Jameson and his boys are decent folk." She looks around the cell, apparently considering Cole's initial comment. "I ain't fond of being beholden to anyone. Thanks for keeping me company, Cole."

Taking a deep breath, she calls out "Sheriff!"

When Cruger enters, Indian Kate tells him she is ready to go with the younger Jameson. The Sheriff nods, opens the cell door and escorts her out of the jail house. Cole hears a few words, before the Sheriff re-enters, closing the door behind him and re-positioning his chair close to Cole's cell.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 111):

Turning onto Griffin Avenue and approaching the jail, JEB takes note of the bounty hunter. Same as yesterday morning, Rasmin keeps watch on the jail from the corner of the laundry. The Chinaman they call Loco is sweeping the porch.

At Picket Jail itself, JEB finds Deputy Adamson on duty, along with Chubby Wilson, on the porch.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 110):

Mr. Big'un leads the way to the cattleman's association. When the men turn on to Third Street, Travis himself sees an Indian. It is the same squat-framed woman he and Ayasha saw the day they road into town. She is sweeping the stairs of the small two-story building opposite the association building. Randy knows her as the wife of Elijah Earl, proprietor of Earl's Shave and Bathe.

OOC: PCs may converse along the way, before entering as desired, or to state some other action. The Judge is advancing to keep things moving. ENS and Jake may accompany Travis and Randy, or do something else as desired. The Judge requires an entry action post--or alternative action post--when ready, from each PC.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 108):

Randy's "nudge" almost knocks ENS over but he quickly recovers.

Yes Randy, Miss Sanchez is quite comely and a pleasant conversationalist! But you probably knew that already... You seemed quite taken with her on the day I met you.

ENS will follow Randy and Travis while talking, he'll also keep an eye out for any sign of the Tonkawa arriving.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 115):

Travis follows Randy.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 113):

JEB nods at Adamson, "Deputy, I'd like to speak with Mr.Trayne."

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 117):

Adamson acknowledges JEB. "The sheriff is in there right now. When he comes out, I reckon you can see him."

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 114):

To Jake's surprise, none of the others seemed inclined to inquire as to what he had learned from speaking with Cole.

With a shrug, he glanced over at Pete Haverty's livery stable on the north side of Fourth Street, and decided to look in on Ghost and see how he was doing.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 119):

Jake enters the corral. Seeing no one in the yard, Jake moves to the barn entrance, where he sees young Benny cleaning one of the stalls. A moment later, he sees Pete Haverty emerging from a small office within the barn.

"Richardson, good morning. Here to see your Ghost?"

In reply to Pete Haverty (msg # 120):

Travis waits patiently.  He looks at Jake and smiles.  No news from Cole is good news.  The Professor and Randy exchange pleasantries while Travis ponders the fate of his fellow rider and what news the tribe will bring of her.  After that, see to Cole.  He has no concern for himself or the trouble he is in.  They set him free.  He doesn't see how that can change.

In reply to Pete Haverty (msg # 120):

"Yes sir," Jake replied to the livery-man's inquiry with a nod.

"I ain't gotten by to see him as much as I intended. How's he doin'?"

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 122):

Haverty strolls over to Ghost's stall.

"He is on the mend, but that jaunt out of town the night before last set him back a mite. Anyhow, I reckon he'll be back to normal by Saturday." Haverty pauses, looking Jake in the eye. "Are you still interested in a race?"

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 114):

JEB heads his way, off to find the oft outlaw and sometimes lawman.

Randy points out Earl's wife to Travis as they pass by. "That there's Mr. Earl's wife. He's the feller what runs his own shave shop. Danged good man, so's I'd say she's prob'ly of the same ilk. Don't know what much good she'll do for you, but still, she might point us in the right direction for answers for Ayasha."

Just before heading across the road to the Cattleman's Association, Randy asks Travis to wait just outside until the business is concluded inside.

The big man and the learned man enter the building. The two look for the prosecutor's office, asking if need be.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 124):

When Randy Oldman enters the building, he finds Caudell and Rojas sitting in the main room. They both acknowledge Mr. Big'un's entrance and await his opening.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 125):

"Rojas, it's always a good day when I sees you. I figgurs you is doing fine today."

Randy addresses Caudell in a similarly cordial manner, although less familiar.

"Fellers, I gots a cupla things to ask of you. I'm hopin' you can spare me a bit of your time."

Mr. Big'un really wastes no time getting to the point. "Mr. Caudell, I needs a favor on behalf of my friend, Cole Trayne. This mess in Frisco is something we all think is due to crooked dealin's. Cole straight up admits to killin' that feller they says he killed. The story, shortly, goes that feller ordered the Cole to kill another. I heard that if'n Cole woulda acted on that, that big bug woulda been just as responsible for the killin' as Cole. So, like the judge said yesterday, Cole stopped a crime from happenin'."

Randy catches his breath for a moment while he glances about for a basin for water to drink.

"Mr. Caudell, do you figgurs you could contact the mayor or guvnor and ask them murder charge be dropped based on that?"

Upon spotting a basin and glass, Randy draws a water and returns, waiting to be invited to sit.

OOC: I thought ENS was with Randy. If I'm wrong, oops! If I'm right, whoop whoop!

In reply to Pete Haverty (msg # 123):

Jake puffed up his cheeks and exhaled, then smiled a wry little smile in response to the livery-man's question as to whether he was still interested in a race.

"Beats hell outta me, Mister Haverty. Tell you the truth, things is gettin' . . . downright complicated."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 126):

ENS walks into the Exchange with Randy. When the big man jumps right in, he simply looks to the two seated men for their response.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 127):

Haverty regards Jake for several seconds. Eventually, he nods.

"There ain't much complicated about a horse race, so I reckon you are referring to other matters." The livery owner starts towards his office, but stops after a few steps. "I have no cause to pressure you, Mr. Richardson. Although there are a number of important men in this town who are hankering for a race against your Ghost, and I believe there are plenty of folks who would welcome a distraction from the winter's bite, I have never made it my business to tell a man what to do with his own kid."

Haverty lowers his voice to avoid the young ears of his stable-hand. "And I believe your Ghost could beat any kid put up against him. Anyhow, I will let the thing lie, until you indicate a preference."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 126):

Rojas smiles at his old hand.

John Caudell listens to the man recently known about town as Mr. Big'un.

"I appreciate your forthright appeal, sir. This business with Trayne is like a burr under a saddle." He pauses, thinking.

"Trayne might have stopped one crime, but if he killed that man based on words alone, all he did was substitute one crime for another. I cannot say whether things are crooked in San Francisco. It matters not, anyhow, because I have no pull in that jurisdiction."

"We will have to turn your pard over to the bounty hunter soon. I suggest that you try to arrange a deal with Rasmin, to accompany your pard back to Frisco."

In reply to John Caudell (msg # 130):

ENS looks to Caudell as he rubs his chin.

Mr. Caudell, doesn't Mr. Trayne have to be kept until at least the trial for Vickers since he was the only one of us awake when Kirbee made his move? Surely local affairs trump other states' business and he must be present to testify?

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 131):

The prosecutor shakes his head as the professor concludes his statement. "There will not be any trial for Vickers. He pleaded guilty yesterday afternoon."

In reply to Pete Haverty (msg # 129):

Jake thought it best to let Pete Haverty's spot-on observation about horse races not being complicated pass without comment, so he replied, "I'll think on it a mite, an' let you know."

If'n I'm still around these parts, the ex-Wells Fargo man thought to himself.


Jake moved over beside Ghost's stall, and slipped his kid a sugar cube that he had picked up over at Hatfield's.

"You're right 'bout Ghost lookin' a sight better'n he did when we brung him in after that dust-up outside uhv town. I 'preciate y'all takin' such good care of him."

In reply to John Caudell (msg # 130):

Travis listens to the big man speak.  He hears the jurisprudential answer and squints.  He brings his thumb and index finger together in a pinching motion across his eyes until they meet at the bridge of his nose.

Senor Rojas... Mr Caudell.  Any enlightenment or change of heart since yesterday or are you still intent on seeing me swing?

Waiting by the jail house, JEB sees a young woman approaching with a small basket in hand. Just as she nears the porch the jail house door opens and Sheriff Cruger exits.

Deputy Adamson acknowledges the young woman. He takes the basket and motions for JEB to follow him, making eye contact with Cruger along the way and motioning for JEB to stop at the door.

"Breakfast, Trayne," says the deputy. "And a visitor." Adamson removes the food, wrapped in a cloth napkin, and slides it through the iron gate. He inspects a small jug and passes it through the bars as well.

When he exits the jail, the deputy asks JEB to surrender his weapons and his overcoat, before allowing him to enter.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 133):

"You are welcome," replies Haverty, leaving Jake to his own druthers.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 134):

Caudell looks to Travis Sunday, who had lingered at the doorway while Randy and ENS entered and spoke with the prosecutor.

"Not too savvy on diplomacy, are you Sunday?"

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 135):

JEB surrenders the Spencer, Schofield, Remington and overcoat. He waits for the deputy to step outside the jailhouse before speaking to Cole.

In reply to Pete Haverty (msg # 136):

Jake spent a little more time with Ghost, then left the stable and walked into the nearby corral. He nodded to the young stable-hand and flipped him a silver dollar.

"Ghost is lookin' a sight better. I 'spect that most of the work that went into helpin' him get better was yours," he observed. "I 'preciate all that you done for him."

In reply to John Caudell (msg # 137):

My Colonel in the war said diplomacy was just a way to describe a man saying nice doggy while reaching for a big stick.  No sir, it's not really my style.  Lies, half-truths, politicking, diplomacy don't suit men of action.... men of the frontier.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 139):

"Thank you, Mister. You ain't so bad, no matter what anyone says."

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 140):

"Say what you came to say, then," answers Caudell, refusing to take Sunday's bait.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 138):

The deputy motions for JEB to enter the jail. The door remains open.

In reply to Benny Sanders (msg # 141):

Jake grinned at the lad as he strolled across the corral. "So, some folks are sayin' that I'm a bad man?" he asked.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 144):

"Jest a jape, sir," says the boy with a slight affectation in his voice, grinning in return.

In reply to John Caudell (msg # 142):

I'll do two weeks.  Make the deal.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 138):

Morning, JEB.

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 147):

Hello, Cole. What happened to your cell mate?

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 148):

She is staying with Jameson.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 146):

"Dangit Travis. Now I know this here's your neck on the line, but don't go pokin' at rat'lers." Randy partly pleads and partly chastises his pard.

"Mr. Caudell and Senor Rojas, Travis is the second topic I'd like to jaw about. All his sweet-talkin' aside, they has gotta be a way to see a better option." The big man still towers above the table's occupants. "I ain't gonna tell you 'bout how he's a good feller 'cause that'll just be spittin' in the wind for now. But, he's done something that may not be as big a crime as what he's bein' held to. Is there a crime of 'dueling' or fighting where a man dies in the end that'll be a shorter sentence. What if he has to pay a constitution to the man's family or something or such.

"Misters, I'm hopin' there's something we can find that's the littlest crime 'stead of the biggest. We ain't babes in the woods, so's we knows time's gotta be served. And, we don't need nobody to clean up our messes, but we just don't know what we gots to work with as far as options are.

"Rojas, he saved me from the opium dragon out in Frisco when the fights got too painful. A stone-cold killer woulda walked out with my scratch and let me dream my life away. Besides his venomous words sometimes, Travis here is one the finest fellers you is gonna find. I gotta do all I can to save this here boy, 'specially from hisself."

Randy sets down the glass. "I'd be surprised if JEB ain't my pard what needs fixin' next."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 150):

Caudell had taken a deep breath after Travis Sunday spoke, his face hardening. The prosecutor seemed ready to respond when Randy Oldman jumped in. He allows the big man to have his say, which turns out to be long-winded, but which has Rojas grinning and Caudell more relaxed by the time it concludes.

Standing, Caudell addresses Mr. Big'un.

"It is a good thing Sunday knows how to choose his pards."

"Mr. Oldman, the only reason your man here is not behind bars this very minute is because men such as you and Rojas have vouched for him. According to the Texas penal code, the penalty for killing a man in a duel is death . . . or life in prison. I extended a reasonable alternative: Manslaughter and two years in the penitentiary. Rojas said that Sunday did not want to discuss that offer."

He glances at Rojas, Randy, and ENS as he talks. He seems to avoid Travis, purposefully.

"Tell your pard that when he is ready to discuss an earnest deal, he should return."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:12, Fri 04 Apr 2014.

In reply to John Caudell (msg # 151):

Mr. Caudell, you know there were extenuating circumstances here; it was not a simple disagreement! Mr. Sunday had prevented Keogh from assaulting a young woman and then suffered threats from the man. He has said that he felt Keogh would ambush him, given the chance...

Have you talked to Mr. Doney or the girl? Does the situation leading to this event count for nothing?

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 152):

Caudell shakes his head. "Speak to witnesses . . . hellfire, Rojas, why did I not think of that before?"

The prosecutor faces ENS. "The only extenuating circumstances for justifying the killing of another man are when one's life--or an innocent's life--is in immediate danger. Sunday defused the initial situation at Doney's place, to his credit. But then, some hours later, he voluntarily walked a half-mile out of town to engage in a duel with Keogh. There was no immediate threat to Sunday's life, or the girl's life, based on the testimony that has been collected, including Sunday's own statements at the hearing and Beauregard's notes from those of you who were there."

Caudell breathes. "The charges are just. Based on what I know, the offer to reduce those charges to manslaughter is downright generous. If Sunday disagrees, he may make his case in court--or, as I have already said, he may elect to discuss an earnest deal."

In reply to John Caudell (msg # 153):

Thank you pards for sticking up for me.  Mr. Caudell you seem to be a fine lawyer; you also appear to place the rule of law above justice and wisdom... but I repeat myself.

Travis chuft with himself and pleased with paraphrasing Twain, brings his thumb and forefinger to the brim of his hat.  With a broad smile and a pleasant demeanor and no feelings of ill will he offers the lawyers a good day and departs.

In reply to John Caudell (msg # 153):

"I knows barged in on you and whate'er you was discussing. I hopes you'll pardon that big disruption. Rojas knows I ain't one for formalties and what not. So's I sure appreciate your time." Randy plucks the Stetson from his head. "You both have been real gracious and understandin'."

After taking a few steps back, "I think it's time to get his thinkin' in line.

"G'day."

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 149):

JEB speaks in a low tone, "I'll get straight to the point. I have a few ideas about resolving your situation that may or may not be legal, but I want to know how you want it played. It's your neck on the line but make no mistake that me and the boys will go to hell for you."

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 156):

Cole pauses, momentarily in thought. Matching JEB's tone, the wrangler continues.

The Flat is full of decent folk.

This here problem started out of town. It should be settled out of town.

In reply to Benny Sanders (msg # 145):

Jake nodded at the Sanders' boy's reply, and gave the lad a wave as he left the corral. "See you the next time I stop by to check on Ghost."

The rifleman turned right on Fourth Street and walked west, headed for the corner at Griffin.

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 157):

Understood. Do you need anything in the meantime?

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 159):

Just some decent food.

Then, after a short pause...

I expect I could use a decent lawyer. Do me a favor and send Rojas my way. It wouldn't hurt to check with him to make sure things are done right and proper.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 155):

ENS nodded at Caudell's response, and after Travis and Randy's statements, he pipes up once more.

Very well Mr. Caudell, never hurts to make sure... But back to Mr. Trayne, would he not also be needed for Mr. Sunday's trial? I guess we just need to know if you and the judge have cleared the way for that bounty hunter to take him sooner?
This message was last edited by the player at 01:27, Mon 07 Apr 2014.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 161):

Neither the prosecutor nor Rojas verbally acknowledges the departure of Travis Sunday; however, both nod at Randy's parting words.

When ENS lingers, asking further questions, Caudell replies.

"From the standpoint of the prosecution, Trayne's presence is not required for Sunday's trial. There are adequate witnesses to support the state's case without him. There is no reason for me, or the court, to impede a lawful warrant for Trayne's arrest, just because he may be called as a witness for the defense in a trial."

The prosecutor glances at Rojas. "If the defendent believes Trayne is required for a fair trial, the court may be petitioned, I suppose."

Jake turned south on Griffin and walked a short way down the street until he came to York & Meyers Outfitters on his left, then entered the store.

In reply to John Caudell (msg # 162):

ENS looks over to Rojas.

Well Mr. Rojas, perhaps you should speak to Mr. Sunday... shall I fetch him back for you?

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 164):

"John, let me have a word with the professor," says Rojas. The prosecutor nods and steps out back for some air.

"After yesterday's talk, I have taken no action until Sunday gives me further direction. If he wants me to file such a petition, I will, but the conversation yesterday made that seem . . . como se dice? . . .  prematuro. You fetch him as you please; that is your choice."

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 160):

You won't need a lawyer. As you requested, we'll handle this outside of town. For the record, I'd just as soon take care of it here as I don't see it the same as you. There ain't any decent folk in this town. Everyone's a bastard. It deserves to burn.

JEB departs the jail.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 163):

Jake has taken only a few steps on the flagstone floor of the outfitters when he hears his name called. Senor Naranjo approaches.

"Senor Richardson, I was saying your name only a minute ago. The item you commissioned has arrived just this morning," he states, smiling as if the delivery were a triumph of some kind. "I shall return with it presently." The Mexican moves to the rear of the building, exiting to the store room as the young man, Jacob, who had reluctantly served Jake last Sunday morning, passes Naranjo and enters the main storeroom.

Jacob nods to Jake, raising an eyebrow indicating his is available if the customer needs his assistance.

When Travis Sunday exits the cattle association building, he sees the squat Indian woman leaning against her broom half-way up the stairs of Earl's Shave and Bathe. She smiles at him.

Randy exits shortly thereafter, both men now lingering near the corner of Parson and Third. There is no question that the bitter weather is moving on; it is warmer this morning, and the cloud cover which has been nearly impenetrable for the last two days shows signs of breaking up.

After a short pause, the two men realize that the professor has remained indoors, still talking to Rojas.

In reply to Rojas (msg # 165):

ENS rubs his chin.

Hmmm, very well Senor Rojas. I will go out and speak to him now. As far as premature goes, it might be for Travis' goals, but not for Cole's.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 168):

Travis smiles back at the woman and walks over to her.

Good morning maam. 

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 166):

Cole watches JEB as he leaves the cell. His eyes narrow a bit as he considers their conversation.

Eventually the wrangler takes a deep breath and returns his attention to his meal.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 170):

Moving closer to the Indian, Travis Sunday gets a good look at her for the first time. Even though she was among the first group of people he passed when entering the town with Ayasha, he had never come face-to-face. Perhaps a hair over 5 feet, she resembles Circling Hawk and the Tonkawa medicine man who took the Cheyenne back to their camp almost three days ago.

"Howdy," she answers, awkwardly, still smiling.

Several moments pass. The woman continues her sweeping.

Travis has seen this sort of reaction before. Mainly back in Frisco, when the Chinese could understand a man's words, but would struggle to respond in English.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 166) and Cole Trayne (msg # 171):

When JEB returns to the jail porch, he sees only Deputy Adamson on duty. Retrieving his weapons and his coat, JEB notices that the sheriff is across the street, speaking to Garrett Rasmin near the laundry.

Adamson leaves the jail door open.

In reply to Epitacio Naranjo (msg # 167):

"Gracias, senor," Jake replied, nodding to the Mexican when the man spoke of the item that he had had made, adding that he would go and get it.

Jake nodded a greeting to the young man who had sold him some supplies last Sunday, when the store wasn't supposed to be open. Then he began pacing up and down the aisles between the store's counters, his eyes wandering over the merchandise that was available, as he awaited the Mexican's return.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 169):

Seeing that Rojas has nothing more to say, ENS leaves the building in search of Travis. Seeing him across the street, he walks over to him.

Travis, can we speak a moment?

He relates the legal tactic just discussed to Travis, then continues.

So Senor Rojas thought it might be a premature move, but I think that Cole must be available if you decide on a jury hearing... and who knows if the sheriff is getting ready to release him to Rasmin immediately.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 172):

Travis offers greetings in Spanish and should that fail Apache.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 174):

Naranjo returns quickly, giving Jake only a little time to look around the place. Just enough time to remember that they have all manner of supplies here, from foodstuffs, to shovels and horse tack. The Outfitters is rightly named: anyone about to depart on a journey into the plains could outfit himself durn well with a single stop at York and Meyers. And if they don't have something, it appears that Naranjo and Chapin know how to get, as evidenced by the former's delivery of Richardson's commissioned item.

"Excellent work, I think." The Mexican proudly hands over the newly crafted leather scabbard, giving Jake room to inspect it.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 176):

The woman nods and smiles at Sunday's additional greetings. To say she is enthusiastic would be a stretch, but she seems to understand his intent and she returns the greetings in her own pleasant way. Still, she does not speak.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 173):

JEB walks across the street towards the two men, watching their expressions as he approaches.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 178):

Well Professor what do you propose should be done?

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 179):

Initially, Sheriff Cruger's position prohibits him from seeing JEB's approach. That changes quickly, when Rasmin directs the sheriff's attention to the man crossing the thoroughfare.

Cruger maintains his usual discipline, showing little emotion, as the two men cease their conversation in order to turn their attention to JEB. The bounty hunter wears a subtle grin.

"What do you need, Beauregard?" asks the sheriff.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:19, Fri 11 Apr 2014.

In reply to Sheriff Cruger (msg # 181):

Cole Trayne's not gonna run and he's committed no crime in your jurisdiction. He should not be sitting in a jail cell.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 182):

"You might be right, Beauregard. But I doubt that you want to force my hand, presently."

The sheriff exposes his half-hearted attempt at subtlety by looking directly at the bounty hunter and then turning to meet JEB's gaze again.

"Trayne is in my custody now, and will remain so until everything is in apple pie order."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:40, Sat 12 Apr 2014.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 180):

Well, I think you should get Rojas to issue the petition just in case you decide to go with the jury trial. After all, he was right there and being a man more experienced in such matters, would truly be a better witness than I. And that petition, if approved, would definitely keep Cole in town... maybe we could even get him released from the jail on his own recognizance.

Tell me, if Cole is held over, how do you think Rasmin will respond?
This message was last edited by the player at 16:49, Sun 13 Apr 2014.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 184):

"Any chance to rattle Rasmin is good. I figgurs if Cole gets held a bit longer, it'll cost Rasmin more money, time, and patience. It'll also give us time to get some other things working in advance of ourselves." Randy isn't covert with his conversation, but he doesn't project his voice either.

"We need to have a council again, right fast as we can. Let's go over here where ain't nobody to hear us." The big man tugs the two others by the elbows to a clear corner where he can whisper.

"So, Travis, it's for certain they ain't gonna listen to reason about your case. If'n I know you at'all, I knows you ain't even gonna give'em the sat'faction of a trial.

"Now, real quick, here's a idea. Keep Cole in that cell for as along as we can. I can gather trail supplies and say I'm headin' for Frisco ahead of Cole. You four grab Cole and we meet up goin' Mexico way. We'll flesh out the details if'n it sounds good to you. So, what'cha think?"

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 185):

I was thinking the Black Hills.

In reply to Sheriff Cruger (msg # 183):

JEB gives Cruger an icy stare, "I could very well say the same for you."

Without waiting for a response, JEB walks away towards Planters.

In reply to Epitacio Naranjo (msg # 177):

Jake turned the rifle-scabbard over and nodded at the quality of the leather and the workmanship. He picked his carbine up from where he had rested it against the counter, and tested the fit by first sliding the weapon into the scabbard, and then drawing it out. The fit was a little tight, just like a pair of new boots, but Jake figured that it would loosten up a mite over time.

"Just what I was lookin' for, Senor Naranjo" he told the Mexican. "I'm right surprised that I had to have it special-made. Seems like thaere would be other men who preferred long-arms over side-arms, an' who would wish to have a scabbard acrosst their back to carry it, just like this one. But considerin' that y'all had to special-order it, I reckon that it ain't a common item."

Jake laid the scabbard down on a counter and reached into a pocket. "I'm well-satisfied with the item, so I reckon that it's time to settle up. Remind me agin how much I owe y'all."

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 188):

The Mexican checks the ledger and smiles, remembering the dickering done by the two men a few days ago. "You paid four dollars in advance, with the agreement to pay a balance of four more upon satisfactory delivery."

At the mention of the four dollars, Jake also remembers haggling with Naranjo, before the man took precise measurements for the commissioned scabbard. With the events of the last two days, it seems a much longer time ago.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 187):

His back turned to the two men while he walks south, Beauregard hears Rasmin's voice, clearly.

"That one has a bad temperament, sheriff."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 185):

As I said last night, given Cole's situation, I wonder if Rasmin is just an assassin hired by the offended officials in San Francisco... If so, I imagine he would not react well to such a delay.

As for your plan, I will help where I can up to the point of illegality... I must draw the line there. I swear that I will keep secret everything said in confidence, though in truth it would probably just be best to exclude me from such planning.

In reply to Garrett Rasmin (msg # 190):

JEB returns to his room at the hotel and gathers his belongings. With saddle bags slung over a shoulder he approaches the desk clerk, "I'm checking out. Settle me up."

In reply to Epitacio Naranjo (msg # 189):

Jake nodded in response to the Mexican's recital of the balance owed on the carbine scabbard -- it matched his own recollections. He fished into and pulled out some money, then counted out four dollar bills on the counter.

"Thaere you go. Reckon we're square now."

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 191):

"Naw, ENS, he ain't no bad egg as far as I can figgur. If'n he is, and he aims to kill Cole and any of us what stands with him, he's gonna make it all look in apple pie order." Mr. Big'un makes his point. "But, I'm also figgurin' he might be the only one what gets plugged in this whole affair when it plays out in a bad way--nobody gets lead when it goes right."

Nodding toward Travis, Randy pleads the case for South of the border again. "Down Mexico way, we don't need to worry 'bout the law chasin' us. And, further south we go, better grazing for the horses and less we gots to worry 'bout winter's bite.

"Like I said, we'll talk particulars when we gots a bit more time to deal with. For now, we gots to pull JEB back from bein' all wrathy and whatnot." Punctuating the point, Randy puts his hand on Travis' shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze. "And you gots to keep your wits about you and stick to whatever plan we settles on--everybody's lives are countin' on it. Don't make a danged bit o' sense to lose one of our lives if alls you gotta do is crack rocks for two years. Not a bit of sense for two of us to die saving one Cole. The plan's gonna set him free."

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 192):

JEB finds the young man named Fargas on duty at the front desk. Breakfast has been cleaned up and the lobby is relatively quiet.

"Yes, sir, I can get that started for you. It will be a moment before Mrs. Swartz returns. Not long."

He opens the ledger. "You arrived Friday or Saturday, I believe . . ." he flips pages. "Saturday. That would be five nights . . . wait, I see that Mrs. Swartz has a note about Sunday evening. All right, that would be four nights . . ." he flips back . . . "subtracting the first night pre-paid makes it three nights . . ." he jots numbers with his pencil "at six and fifty per night comes to nineteen dollars and fifty cents."

Just then, Estelle Swartz appears from the hallway behind the desk. Teddy defers to her, waiting to help JEB with his belongings, if needed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:21, Tue 15 Apr 2014.

In reply to Teddy Fargas (msg # 195):

Estelle Swartz smiles politely at her hotel guest. "It has been a pleasure having you here, Mr. Beauregard. I heard Teddy's tally and I believe he has it correct. Is there anything else we can do for you?"

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 193):

Senor Naranjo nods in agreement. "A square deal is best for all parties, Mr. Richardson. Do you have any other needs?"

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 194):

To his pards, it might seem that Randy Oldman has taken a liking to making speeches. Mr. Big'un speaks at length and in earnest, but before Travis or ENS can follow-up on his words, Sunday notices the sheriff walking towards them on Third Avenue.

It stands to reason that Cruger has spotted the men huddled on the street corner, but it is likely he was too far away to have heard anything. Travis spotted him after Randy had placed his big hand on Sunday's shoulder and spoke of breaking rocks.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:40, Tue 15 Apr 2014.

In reply to Epitacio Naranjo (msg # 197):

"Ain't nuthin' that comes to mind at the moment," Jake replied to the Mexican.

A rueful smile flitted across his face as he shook his head. "'Course, my mind ain't near as sharp as it used to be, it seems. Could be I'll remember somethin' I need soon as I head out, an' I'll have to turn right 'round an' come back in again."

The ex-Wells Fargo man glanced around the interior of the store. "'Shore as shootin', though, iff'n I recollect somethin' I need, I'll know whaere to come. Seems as if y'all got most everything a body might need in here . . ."

". . . or shore 'nuff know how to git it," he added, lifting up his newly-bought carbine-scabbard by way of an example.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 199):

Epitacio Naranjo grins in amusement, showing a row of uneven teeth--those teeth that still exist. "Muy bien, senor. Use it in good health."

In reply to Mrs. Swartz (msg # 196):

Did Sheriff Cruger leave anything at this counter for me?

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 201):

Mrs. Swartz checks the key cubby for room number ten. "I am not aware of anything left here by the sheriff." She looks to Teddy, who shakes is head.

Cole Trayne focused on his meal, but with with the jail door open, he noticed JEB standing with the sheriff and the bounty hunter, momentarily.

Shortly thereafter, the wrangler sees the sheriff move north on Griffin, and just around the time Cole finishes eating, the big deputy pulls a chair over to the doorway, positioning it to maintain a view of the thoroughfare, while also being able to speak to Cole. He sits, leans his head towards the jail interior and speaks.

"How long were you in Frisco? Always been curious 'bout California. Never been myself."

In reply to Epitacio Naranjo (msg # 200):

Jake took one last look around the interior of the store -- and-its well-stocked shelves -- in an effort to bring to mind (by reason of laying his eyes upon it) anything that he might need.

Not seeing anything that he couldn't do without, the rifleman took a moment to slide his carbine into its new scabbard He then slipped the leather sling across his chest, tightened it to suit, buckled it, then adjusted the way that the weapon in its scabbard lay diagonally across his back.

Once the weight and balance were adjusted to the Texan's satisfaction, he nodded a farewell to Mexican and stepped through the front door of the Outfitters' store.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 204):

Jake exits the Outfitters and takes in the air. The blue norther has passed, finally, he thinks. He won't be taking off his duster anytime soon, but at least the biting wind has ceased and the sun has made an appearance.

Looking north on Griffin, he sees the usual activity for this time of the morning in the thoroughfare. Same to the south, with a few young boys hanging around the Post Office and some activity at the hide-yard, but Jake also spots a distinguished elderly gentleman approaching the Occidental. He carries a satchel and he stops at the hotel. Although Jake's contact with Doc Culver was limited, he had seen the man before, when the doc was caring for Sunday's Indian woman.

Culver doffs his Stetson to Jake as they make accidental eye contact. The doctor then removes the hat, holding both the satchel and Stetson in one hand as he enters the hotel.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 198):

ENS, not having seen the sheriff yet, continues.

Heh, perhaps you're right Randy... all these goings on may have made me paranoid! But Travis should still seek the legal route, if only to stymie Rasmin.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 206):

Cruger draws near after ENS speaks. All three of the men are aware of his presence. He steps onto the porch of the cattle association building, and then pauses before entering as if he intends to give the men the opportunity to speak to him before he attends to whatever business he has at this establishment.

In reply to Sheriff Cruger (msg # 207):

"So Cruger, you just about to make certain you can hand Cole over to that Rasmin feller?" Randy check with the sheriff.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 208):

"Not exactly, Oldman. Naturally, it is on my list." He seems to be in no hurry. He remains standing where he is, regarding the three men on the corner.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 205):


Hunh, Jake thought to himself upon recognizing the town's doctor. Wonder what that's all about? he ruminated as he noticed the old gent entering his own hotel -- the Occidental.

The ex-Wells Fargo man pursed his lips thoughtfully as it suddenly occured to him that he had not seen Mister Snoddy at breakfast that morning -- and that the man was nearly almost present during that meal. The earlier private conversation with the hotelier also came to mind, and Jake began wondering if any of this was related.

Only one way to find out, I reckon, Jake concluded as he walked towards the Occidental.

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 203):

Cole shrugs.

Just a short while. SF is a downright complicated place. Lots of people, and like most places, full of folks. Some good, some bad. Just more of each.

In reply to Mrs. Swartz (msg # 202):

Thank you for checking. If you would kindly hold anything Cruger leaves for me here I'd appreciate it.

JEB settles his bill and leaves the hotel to rejoin his pards.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 210):

Entering the Occidental, Jake catches a glimpse of Culver's back before the doctor disappears through the doorway behind the hotel's front desk. The clerk, the one who had rummaged a late night meal for Richardson a couple of nights ago and who was managing today's breakfast, directs his attention to his guest.

"Mr. Richardson," he says by way of perfunctory greeting. "Something I can do for you?" Clearly, the young man is pre-occupied, and yet he manages to maintain his social graces and fulfill his duty when the rifleman enters the hotel.

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 211):

The deputy chuckles. "I reckon some things never change. Anyhow, did you like it there?"

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 212):

"Why, yes, of course," answers Mrs. Swartz.

JEB exits the hotel. A quick look at his fob tells him the hour is past 10 a.m. He had made plans to meet his pards at noon and he isn't certain where they are right now, although he knew they had intended to go to the cattle association.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 213):

Hell. I'm gettin' t'be jest like one uhv them ol' long-beaked biddies who ain't got nuthin' better to do than poke their noses into other folk's bizzness, Jake thought to himself as the hotel clerk greeted him.

The rifleman scratched at his chin whiskers, then drawled, "Waal, I dunno. Reckon I was jest a mite on the curiousitous side, is all . . ." He nodded in the direction of the doorway that the doctor had just stepped through, and his voice trailed off, leaving an unspoken invitation for the hotelier to be helpful . . .

In reply to Sheriff Cruger (msg # 209):

"Sunday's aimin' to ask for Cole to be held over 'til the trial. We is just talkin' about that and all the mess it's gonna cause for the good fellers such as yourself." Mr. Big'un makes motions toward the association's egress.

"In fact Travis, you best be on about that now, afore any other knots tangle this here rope."

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 216):

The clerk leans forward on the desk and motions for Jake to come closer. He seems eager to share now that Jake has indicated interest.

"I figure you heard what all happened to Mr. Snoddy . . . the doc is looking after 'im. Says he will make it, but he'll be down for a spell."

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 217):

Cruger listens to the big man, then looks at Travis Sunday when responding. "Is that a fact?" he says, continuing to linger on the porch, arm's length from the door to the association office.

In reply to Sheriff Cruger (msg # 219):

I wouldn't hand Cole over quite yet.

Travis smiles.

He's a witness to a terrible crime.  Some rapist asshole called me out and I killed him.  Away from the citizenry for safety reasons.  Apparently the keep the town folk and bystanders safe was the crime part. If I had killed him in the bar all the fuss would have been avoided. Who knew.  Anyway, I'll need Cole to testify so his recollections can serve the Texas justice system.

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 214):

To be honest, not very much.

I gotta say, I'm not a big city kind of man. I just had never been that far west before and I wanted to see for myself what it was like.

Deep down, I'm a ranch hand. Reckon I'm kinda simple that way, I expect.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 220):

Cruger laughs. He claps his hands, slowly, four times. "Bravo, Sunday. Mr. Big'un, I think the Frontier House might need to extend an audition to your pard."

The sheriff turns to open the door to the cattle association. He enters.

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 221):

The lawman's head nods. "I am a homebody, myself. So I can see your meaning."

Before long, the deputy asks another question. "You any good with a guitar, then?"

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 223):

Looking slightly embarrassed, the wrangler replies.

I've got some basic skill,  VERY basic. Thought since I'm here and it seems I  have some time on my hands, I could use the practice.

Cole pauses a moment then continues.

You always lived here in The Flat?

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 224):

The deputy leans his head towards Cole--enough for Cole to see puzzlement on the man's face. "Nope. This town has only been here for some six years now. Sprouted up fast, on account of the Fort."

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 225):

Where you from, deputy?

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 223):

Travis lets the door shut.

Well he's useless.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 218):

"Nope, I hadn't heard," the rifleman replied to the desk-man with a shake of his head.

"Mister Snoddy's feelin' a mite poorly I take it? Sorry to hear it."

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 226):

"Did we not have this conversation before, Trayne?" asks the deputy.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 228):

The clerk's eyes widen. "'A mite poorly' is a far sight from the truth, Mr. Richardson" the young man whispers. "He was beat near to death last night."
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:51, Sun 20 Apr 2014.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 227):

"Don't do no good to poke at rat'lers, Travis." Randy urges his friend to action. "Get on in there and tell Rojas you wants Cole at your trial."

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 229):

Now that you mention it, I reckon so. I expect my mind ain't quite right. I'm not used to being locked up. Takes a little getting used to.


With that, the wrangler vaguely gestures at his current accommodations.

Not exactly The Beehive...

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 232):

The deputy's broad shoulders raise up and then relax. He offers no reply to Cole's statements, but eventually he adds, "I figure we can a guitar if you are willing to pony-up for it. I will ask Chubby or Arnie to fetch a price for you."

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 230):

Jake grimaced and shook his head. "Sorry to hear it," he replied, quite truthfully. The ex-Wells Fargo man might be sorry but he was not exactly surprised, given the previous private conversation between Snoddy and himself.

The way the Law works in this damned place, most likely they'll say it was Snoddy's fault for bleedin' on the other fellers' cudgels, charge him with refusin' to back down -- which is apparently a crime hereabouts -- an' stick him in the hoosegow. Jake deemed it prudent to keep such thoughts to himself, at least for the time being.

"Who found him?" he asked, judging that that question would give the hotel-man a chance to talk about some of the details of what had happened.

In reply to Deputy Adamson (msg # 233):

I've got the cash. 

After pausing a moment and looking around his cell, an expression of disappointment on his face, Cole continues.

And, it seems,  I surely have the time.

I'd prefer renting one if possible, though. Somehow, I expect I won't be needing one, not too long from now.

Much obliged, deputy.

In reply to Randy Oldman (msg # 231):

ENS watches the Sheriff enter, then turns back to Travis after Randy speaks.

Randy's right Travis... if you're going to talk to Rojas it should be now. The Sheriff could be here now for permission to release Cole.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 236):

Travis nods and reenters the Cattleman's Association.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 234):

The clerk continues, answering Jake's question and then some.

"Some soldiers found him on their way into town. I reckon they did not recognize Mr. Snoddy at the get go, but they carried him up Griffin until some folks recognized him. His left eye was swollen shut and he had a mouthful of blood."

He glances back toward the door, still cracked open.

"The doc saw to him last night, broken ribs, he said, and he promised he would be back this mornin'." The clerk shrugs, since that much seems evident, now.

"Mr. Snoddy ain't been in a mood to talk much, so I am still at sea about what all happened."

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 235):

"I will see what I can do, Trayne," answers the deputy.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 237):

Travis Sunday enters the cattlemen's building for the second time in the last quarter hour. This time he finds two of the three men inside standing; only Rojas is seated. It appears that the sheriff was fixin' to pull up a chair when Sunday entered.

All three men demonstrate that they have seen the elephant a time or two. They assess Sunday's entry quickly, unsurprised, maintaining their usual demeanor when his intent seems clear.

Rojas greets Sunday by meeting his eyes and tilting his head as if to ask "¿Cómo estás?" while the other two essentially ignore the gunslinger, offering nothing in the way of a greeting although the result of their silence is that Travis has the opportunity to state his purpose for returning. In fact, all three men seem content to wait for Sunday to speak.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 237):

ENS watches Travis go, then looks to Randy.

Before we follow Travis, has Miss Sanchez given you any hint about what she needs to talk to me in private about?

In reply to Mrs. Swartz (msg # 215):

One more favor. I'm looking for John Selby. Do you know him and, if so, where I may find him?

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 242):

JEB found himself holding his breath for a moment upon witnessing Mrs. Swartz's reaction to his inquiry. It seems as if JEB had asked about the morning star Lucifer himself.

"Heavens no, I do not know John Selman . . . I . . . I . . ." she stammers, before regaining her composure. "Of course, that is, I know who he is. Why do you ask, sir?" she concludes, mastering herself.

OOC: JEB needs to make a Gather Information check.

OOC: The Judge has assumed that JEB means John Selman and the quoted material above contains a typo.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 238):

"Sounds pretty rough," Jake muttered.

"So . . . Mister Snoddy ain't said who did this to him -- or why?"

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 240):

Petition the court to keep Cole in town for my trail if you please Senor.

He leaves.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 246):

Senor Rojas was about to respond when Travis Sunday departs unceremoniously. The Mexican follows Sunday out the front door, where ENS and Randy are still conversing.

"Senor Domingo, you are making it difficult for me to help you."

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 245):

"He ain't told me," answers the clerk. The young man glances past Jake and then over his shoulder toward the hotel back room.

"Come to think on it, sometimes it is better not to know something. Leastways, accordin' to my ma back in Galveston."

-------------------------

A short time passes, as both the clerk and Jake consider their own thoughts and wait for the Doc. Before long, the bespectacled Doc pokes his head through the doorway.

"Richardson?" he asks. Waiting only for a moment's reaction, Culver motions for the ex-Wells Fargo man to enter.

In reply to Rojas (msg # 247):

Travis contemplates Rojas.

I am sorry about that.

He waves Rojas along as he steps down the steps and walks down the road

I haven't decided what sort of stupid these guys are. 

He steers Rojas toward the middle of the street where the casual passerby would miss most of the conversation.

Poor Jake's horse was stolen and almost rode to death.  I brought the gentleman to justice and didn't kill him though I could have and no one would have batted an eye.  He by the way has received the mercy of the Texas justice system. 

Travis tips his hat to a passing woman, and continues,

His companion tried to rob, then when that failed, murder all of us.  We brought him to justice. and

He slows, breathes deep and looks around getting a feeling for the coming weather.

Then JEB and the professor solve the mystery of a murdered woman.  Another person brought to justice without the local law.


He looks to Randy as if to have his facts verified.

Then Myles Keogh and Johnny Moreno are caught with a sweet young woman.  One has her pinned to the wall, the other standing look out.   They weren't kidding around Rojas, this wasn't some yahoo playing slap ass with a saucy barmaid.  I was there.  It was about to get bad.  Murderously bad.

Travis pauses, then continues.

I stare them down.  They move on. Then when I'm drinking Keogh calls me out.  A man like me can't walk away from that.  It gets a lot more people hurt if you let that buffoonery play out. If you're not willing to pull pistols you might as well whistle Dixie and open up a trading post somewhere.  Anyways, I am so fucking stupid, that I didn't kill him where he stood.  I took it outside and at the suggestion of the acting Sheriff took it to the ridge where again we saw that justice was done.  He spits. ...and no matter what anyone says the world is better without that asshole in it.


Travis stops and looks around in the hopes of seeing Circling Hawk or one of the tribe.

Since then, I hear, and you'll keep this confidential my lawyerly friend, Johnny Moreno, asshole number two, apparently the flower of Texas virtue, has severely beaten a lady of ill repute and also confidentially speaking I've been approached to carry out a contract killing.  Meanwhile Cole is going to be handed over to the scum of the earth, a fucking bounty hunter, to return to California to face a rigged trial.


Travis extends his arms and holds his palms up.

So I may make your job harder by trying to shame the locals to learn the difference between the law, justice and what's right, but my only priority is seeing to our Trail mates... Ayasha's and Cole's safety first.

He spins once around slowly as if to say "behold the Flat."  His arms still extended and rising slightly as he turns and says..

And this town may have a lot of good in it, but there's a rotten underbelly.

He stops his turn and places his thumbs in the front of his belt.

Maybe our lot in life is to do the dirty work for others. I wasn't expecting a parade, but a simple "thank you" and "maybe you should move on now" would have been nice. In lieu of that please help us see to Cole's safety by getting him held over for my trial and turn the tide of public opinion.  Make us heroes Rojas, and make them pay for their failure to protect the citizens of the flat and punish those who do.   

Travis smiles and slaps Rojas on the shoulder.

That way if I hang around a jury of my peers won't convict and maybe just maybe someone turns the jail door's key while Rasmin isn't looking.

In reply to Doc Culver (msg # 248):

Jake looked more than a little surprised at the town sawbone's invitation, then he nodded to the desk clerk and stepped into the room from whence the doctor had beckoned.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 250):

The doctor whispers to Jake as he enters. "He heard your voice and asked to speak to you." Culver picks up his bag and leaves the room, which Jake now sees is a cramped space serving as an office and sleeping quarters. Snoddy is lying face up on the cot in the corner.

In reply to Doc Culver (msg # 251):

"Mr. Richardson," mumbles Mr. Snoddy. From the sound of it, the hotel proprietor is having trouble speaking.

Jake figures he will need to move closer to converse. A wooden stool sits near the cot, having been used by the doc.

"If I do not make it . . . " he manages, before wincing against the pain in his ribs " . . . those men . . . a warning not to ask around for help." The hotel owner's good eye locks with Jake's right eye.

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 249):

Rojas motions for Randy and ENS to remain behind when he and Travis walk. He listens to the Sunday, intently. When Travis slaps him on the shoulder, Rojas resumes the walk, hearing Travis' last words as the two men head north.

"Senor Domingo, I am pleased that you are talking to me, finally. Now I can help you."

Much as Travis had made a speech, so does Senor Rojas now as the old trail mates move to the outskirts of the town.

"First, I will file the petition. You, Senor, will need to attend when we speak to the Judge. It will require you to show some respect. I say this, because I have heard your story and it does not match up with some of the testimony that Caudell has gathered. At the risk of offending you, Senor Domingo, in some ways it does not square with reality. You are hurting your case--and Cole's--with your disrespect for the people you have just now called 'stupid.'"

Rojas continues, adjusting his hat.

"You see, Senor, I agree with some of what you say. There is a rotten underbelly here in town. Unlike you, I know it is not the lawmen who smell of it. Cruger and Caudell are smart men who do well for this town. The Judge is a fair man. Forgive me, Senor, but your five days of experience is no match for my longer view. If you consider me a pard, you will trust me on that."

When the men have cleared earshot of any eavesdroppers, Rojas continues. His tone remains matter of fact; his poker face solid.

"We can buy time for Cole. Those men, you see, are waiting for us to do it. I needed you to come around. Cruger has stretched this process to give us time to act. It is your petition; I will advocate on your behalf. Pero, after the things you said yesterday, I had no intention of moving forward on my own. And now that we speak of this, I would also ask you, senor, is this what Cole wants?"

He sighs. "Your situation, it is more complicated. If you promise to stop walking around town like the cock o'the walk, we can have a real discussion about your case. I will be ready whenever you are ready."

He motions back toward town. "Shall we go to file the petition, amigo? Or perhaps speak to Cole Trayne?"

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 241):

Randy and ENS were interrupted by Travis' abrupt return to the outdoors, followed by Rojas. The gunslinger and the Mexican moved away, with Rojas indicating he wanted to listen to Sunday in private.

Soon after, both Mr. Big'un and the professor see another man approaching their position, heading east on Third Street. There is no mistaking Judge Ledbetter, accompanied by the clerk who took the notes during yesterday morning's hearings. It appears that they are heading towards the cattle association building.

EDIT: clarifying poor wc
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:04, Wed 23 Apr 2014.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 254):

Upon seeing Travis and Rojas emerge, ENS was of a mind to approach, but Rojas signal stopped that. When he turned back to make sure Randy saw Rojas' signal, he spied the judge approaching, once the judge gets close enough ENS speaks.

Good morning Your Honor

He includes a nod to the clerk.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 255):

Judge Ledbetter and his clerk stop on the porch. "Good morning, sir," responds the former, pausing to regard ENS and Randy.

"Professor Ringgenberg, yes? I read about your efforts on the Chinese woman's murder. Good work."

In reply to Will Snoddy (msg # 252):

Jake nodded his understanding to Doc Culver when the man spoke to him as the two men passed, the one leaving the room as the other entered.

The ex-Wells Fargo man moved across the small room and seated himself on the cot. He had sat with wounded men before, some as they were breathing their last on the battlefield, and he knew that speaking was often difficult for them.

"Take yer time," he said to Snoddy. "I got as much time as you need for you to say yer piece."*

OOC:* I remember there being a discussion about this particular turn of phrase; I do not remember which side of the discussion the above usage places me upon, however. :)

In reply to Mrs. Swartz (msg # 243):

Take 10.

In reply to Rojas (msg # 253):

Let's petition now and get that over with.

Travis turns back towards the Cattleman's.

As over the top as I've been that was just me pushing for a quick win and poisoning the well of the prosecution.  Even so, not a single word I said was false and truly barely an exaggeration.  If Caudell has contrary evidence, that is of interest to me.

OOC: Travis is not lying.  It's been years but I think my recollection of events past is accurate.  If it's not let me know please post or PM

In reply to Travis Sunday (msg # 259):

Rojas walks with Sunday back to Parson Street.

"I am not accusing you of dissembling, Senor. Pero, I will give you an example of something you have said more than once, which is untrue. You have called JEB the acting sheriff. He was not. Nunca. If you ask him, I believe he will agree."

"And no one in this place cares a shit about that pendejo Marino. You imply that the people of The Flat see him as the flower of Texas. That is far beyond exaggeration. Your case has little to do with him. He is but one witness."

He sighs again. "The details of Caudell's investigation I will share with you, of course. After we have taken care of the petition."

OOC: Lying implies intent. The Judge believes Travis when he says he doesn't intend to fabricate. Nonetheless, his characterization of some things do not match with what Rojas knows, or perceives, as evidenced by this reply.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 258):

Mrs. Swartz takes a breath and responds with the courtesy she usually displays. "Mr. Selman has a small place outside of town. Not far from Jameson's. I have never been there. But I hear his poor wife is left alone to care for the children there, for long stretches of time, when Mr. Selman is on the owl hoot trail."

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 257):

Indeed, Snoddy takes his time. The dimly lit room, with sunlight squeezing through the slats in the window shutters, is peaceful except for the proprietor's wheezing.

"I am sorry . . . I fear . . . they have learned that I spoke to you." He coughs and his open eye signals agony.

"I do not know how . . . they could know . . . " he fails to complete his sentence.

OOC: Jake falls on the correct side of the argument.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:18, Thu 24 Apr 2014.

In reply to Judge Ledbetter (msg # 256):

ENS nods to the Judge.

Thank you, just trying to help right a wrong.

In reply to Mrs. Swartz (msg # 261):

JEB thanks Mrs. Swartz and heads to the cattle association.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 263) and James E. Beauregard (msg # 264):

Ledbetter nods and then enters the association building, followed by the clerk. ENS and Randy linger, waiting for Travis Sunday and Rojas to return.

Meanwhile, JEB walks north on Parson until he reaches Third Street, finding his two pards loitering on the corner near the cattlemen's building. The men have time to exchange greetings and catch-up on any events of that morning, before they notice Sunday and Rojas at the north end of Parson, now heading south.

As the gunslinger and the Mexican draw near, Rojas speaks.

"Senor Domingo and I are going in to submit the petition. It will take an hour or so to draft the letter and meet with the Judge."  Looking to ENS, Rojas adds, "El profesor, I would be grateful if you would inform Cole Trayne about our course of action, to see if he agrees. It might, you see, mean that he will remain in custody."

In reply to Rojas (msg # 265):

Sheriff Cruger exits the association building. He acknowledges the group of gathered men. He then speaks to JEB.

"Beauregard, I was about to take this to Planters, but you have saved me the trip." He hands JEB a folded piece of paper with a wax seal.

Cruger turns to Rojas. "Are things proceeding?" he asks, to which Rojas nods affirmatively. "All right. I will return later." The sheriff turns west and begins walking.

In reply to Will Snoddy (msg # 262):

Jake looked a little surprised to hear Mister Snoddy's conclusion that his assailants had somehow learned of his conversation the rifleman.

"Beats hell outta me how they'd know . . ."

Suddenly aware of the awkwardness of his choice of words, given Snoddy's condition, Jake cleared his throat. "Sorry . . . I warn't meanin' to make light uhv yer sit-uation."

"What I was meanin' to say was that I didn't mention our palaver to no one, an' I'm sure that you didn't neither."

OOC: That is good to hear. :)

In reply to Sheriff Cruger (msg # 266):

ENS nods to Rojas' request. He was about to add more when Sheriff Cruger appeared; he waits until the sheriff starts to move away before addressing Rojas.

Of course Senor, I will speak to Cole immediately. But may I ask... the Sheriff's question, the Judge's arrival, are they here to expedite Mr. Trayne's release to Rasmin? Is there time to get the petition in?
This message was last edited by the player at 19:14, Fri 25 Apr 2014.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 268):

"We have time, el profesor," answers Rojas.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 267):

Snoddy coughs again and grabs his ribs with one hand; his face is the visual definition of agony.

"I did not." He pauses breathing heavily. Jake is no doctor but he has seen wounded men. His impression is that Snoddy is badly beaten, but as the clerk said, the proprietor will probably survive, if he can muster the gumption to do so.

"Mayhaps the walls have ears . . . " is all Snoddy can manage before wincing again.

In reply to Sheriff Cruger (msg # 266):

JEB takes the paper without looking at or saying anything to the sheriff.  He places the letter in his pocket to read later.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 268):

Hearing the exchange between Rojas and Ringgenberg, JEB speaks up after the sheriff walks away, "I just spoke to Cole. He has no interest in remaining in custody any longer."

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 272):

Rojas addresses JEB. "Does he know of the idea to file a petition to keep him here as a witness for Sunday?"

In reply to Will Snoddy (msg # 270):

"Could be," Jake agreed with Snoddy's statement about the walls perhaps having ears.

"But even so, it's . . . discouragin' . . . that if anyone in this es-tablisment o'erheard ennything, rather than bein' loyal to you an' keepin' it to theirselves, they'd take word to them as did this to you."

In reply to Rojas (msg # 273):

That notion was on the table.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 275):

Rojas turns to ENS. "El profesor, por favor, go speak to Cole right now. Tell him that Senor Domingo intends to file this petition and verify whether he is in agreement. I will be inside, preparing and waiting for your answer."

The Mexican ushers Travis Sunday--who has remained silent during this brief conversation, perhaps lost in his ownthoughts--into the association building.

In reply to Rojas (msg # 276):

Very well Senor.

He looks over to JEB.

Will you stay here Sheriff, or accompany me? Or do you have some other errand to attend to?

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 277):

I have another errand outside of town. I'll find you when I return.

JEB walks to the livery.

The conversation between Trayne and Adamson had fallen into a lull. Some time passes before Cole hears the sheriff on the porch, telling his deputy to go get some rest. Cruger pokes his head through the door, nodding to the wrangler as he does his routine check on the inmate. The sheriff takes a seat on the porch in the same chair that Adamson was using.

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 274):

"Da . . . da . . . daresay no one in . . . my employ," replies the proprietor, with effort.

In reply to Will Snoddy (msg # 280):

Jake took note of how Snoddy had to make an effort to speak. "Doc'd have my hide iff'n I was to stand here an' keep ye jawin' the whole live-long day. Reckon I oughtta skeedaddle so's ye can git some rest."

The ex-Wells Fargo man glanced at the door to the room. "Ye rest enny easier iff'n I was to sit outside the door with my carbine acrosst my knees?"

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 281):

"I would not object . . . but not necessary . . . "

Snoddy closes his eyes, perhaps involuntarily, at the suggestion of rest. Clearly, Jake's instinct is on target--the hotel owner needs to suspend this effort and allow himself to rest . . . and to sleep if he can.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:29, Mon 28 Apr 2014.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 278):

ENS nods.

Very well, I shall see you later.

ENS heads down Third, enjoying the smell of the bakery as he turns down Griffin. He is at the jailhouse shortly thereafter. He secures his coat and Colt with the sheriff and enters the jail.

Hello Cole, how are you being treated?

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 278):

JEB finds the livery owner himself on duty, brushing down a stately gray mare in the small corral.

"You have the look of a man ready to ride," states Pete Haverty. He stops his work to focus on the lawman from Missouri.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 283):

Cole looks up from his spot on the cot and smiles lightly.

Howdy professor. Reckon I'm doing alright. Can't complain. I could surely do with a bath, though.

How are things going out yonder? Hopefully, you fellers are staying out of trouble?

In reply to Rojas (msg # 276):

Randy stays near his pard and former trail boss. The big man knows he might need to return to his former role and wrangle Travis like a spirited horse in the Remuda. His smooth, gentle, and courteous demeanor has proven productive to a point so far. But, Rojas is right, unless all the horses welcome the spunky stallion's return, there will be no peace.

"Travis, when we gets a moment, let's break to a corner for a confab. I thinks I oughta knows about that killin' you was asked to do." Randy is quizzical. "It's a chance to use somethin' like that to help your case a bit."

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 285):

ENS returns the smile and pulls up a chair to sit.

Well, we've been working on strategies... one of which brings me here.

Senor Rojas is going to petition the court for Travis; the petition will assert that you are a key witness for Travis's trial, so you cannot be released to Rasmin at this time. Since the trial is two weeks away, it should buy you some time, but there's no guarantee that you will be released on your own recognizance during the wait.

Senor Rojas asked me to find out if you were alright with this situation?

In reply to Will Snoddy (msg # 282):

"I agree that it most likely ain't necessary -- not in broad daylight, with lots of poe-tenshall witnesses around," Jake replied.

"Howsomever, it may haelp you rest a mite easier iff'n ye know I'm out thaere."

The rifleman hesitated a moment, then asked, "You want to tell me who did this to you?"

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 288):

"Do not know . . ." answers Snoddy, ". . . faces covered . . . "

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 287):

Cole pauses a moment to consider the proposal in front of him.

Reckon that will be alright. Probably be a good idea to settle these matters, one at a time. Two weeks is a mighty long time to stay in jail, though.

But I don't want to go nowhere while Travis is in a bind.

In reply to Pete Haverty (msg # 284):

JEB settles up and reads Cruger's paper as he waits for his horse to be saddled.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 291):

JEB opens the seal and reads the paper. Involuntarily, his attention is drawn to the buildings across the street.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 287) and Cole Trayne (msg # 290):

OOC: ENS stated a factual error. Not sure why he mentions two weeks, but the fact is that Travis Sunday's trial was set, explicitly, for Wednesday, February 7, 1877. Today is Thursday, February 1, 1877.

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 290):

ENS starts at Cole's reply.

Did I say two weeks? I meant one week, less a day of course! I swear all these goings on have me a bit rattled. But back to the point, you're alright with this course of action then?

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 294):

Cole nods.

Like I said, I have no interest going anywhere while Travis is in a bind.

I'm alright with what y'all have in mind.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 292):

JEB tells Haverty that he'll be back shortly to retrieve his horse and walks across the street to the bank. He approaches and presents the paper to the next available bank teller.

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 296):

Despite renting quarters next door to the bank, JEB had never had business sufficient to enter the place. He remembered the professor making mention of the bank.

Today, crossing the street, JEB takes in the squat, solid building's face. Stone construction, carefully fitted, with a slate roof. The most interesting thing about the bank is its short stature.

Entering the small lobby, JEB sees two tellers, seated behind a fixed, iron gate stretching almost 15 feet from the wall to his right to an internal door set near the opposite wall. The gate rests on top of a half-height wooden wall and it extends all the way to the ceiling. Next to the internal door is one of two hardback chairs in the lobby. An armed guard stands by the chair, propping himself up with one boot on the seat.

JEB approaches the teller, who reads the scrip and looks up to regard Beauregard. The teller dips a pen in ink and then he scrawls on the paper before dipping again and offering the pen to JEB while asking for his signature, or mark.

OOC: There is a pdf of the Bank interior in the Rules and Standards sticky forum (been there for a long time), and there are also some flavor drawings involving the establishment or its NPCs.

In reply to Will Snoddy (msg # 289):

Jake nodded, as if he had expected Snoddy's answer.

"All right, then. Reckon I'll set a spell right yonder outside the door, 'though like I said, I doubt it'll be necessary durin' broad daylight. You got a hand-bell or some way you can let us know, iff'n you want sumpthin'?"

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 295):

ENS claps his hands together and stands up.

Very good! Senor Rojas asked me to return with your answer so I'll have to cut this visit short. But before I go, is there anything I can bring you later? Mr. Woolform's daily baking should be out soon... interested?

In reply to Jake Richardson (msg # 298):

Snoddy groans while fumbling at his bedside, until he grasps a bell and rings it. On cue, the clerk pops his head through the doorway.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 299):

As it happens, a smiling Arnie Foster joins the sheriff on the porch as the professor and the wrangler wrap up their meeting. Cole sees the boy on the porch, and hears him say that Deputy Adamson sent him to talk to Cole about a guitar.

Arnie sits on the edge of the porch, waiting until the two men inside the jail have concluded their business.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 297):

As JEB leaves the stable he takes a moment to light up a cigar realizing the day ahead may prove disagreeable to further tobacco enjoyment. As JEB approaches the teller window, he places the lit stogie with ash outward in a groove on the counter ledge where other lit havanas have made their mark while customers conducted business. JEB takes the pen and signs the paper, placing the pen on the counter when finished.

In reply to E.N.S. Ringgenberg (msg # 299):

Cole perks up at the possibility of baked goods.

Yes, indeed. I would sure enough appreciate some fresh baked goods. I'm not picky.

The wrangler pauses, then continue.

I'd also really appreciate if you would look in on my critters?

In reply to James E. Beauregard (msg # 302):

The teller takes the signed paper. He stands, moving slightly to his right. After stamping the transaction and logging it in a ledger, he lowers himself to one knee. JEB can't see exactly what the clerk is doing, but he hears the clink of coins. A moment later the teller resumes his seat, stacking silver coins in front of JEB.

In reply to Cole Trayne (msg # 303):

ENS grins at Cole.

Very well, I will get you something and bring it later today... and of course I'll look in on your animals!

With that ENS rises and moves towards the door to gather his items.

Until later then! He says with a wave.

In reply to Judge Messalen (msg # 304):

JEB leaves the bank and walks back to the stable. He thanks Haverty and rides north along Griffin to Jameson's ranch.