Dodge at night was much like any other town at night: dark. Save for the light that shone down from the stars and the waxing moon that was just a few days from full - and the occasional lantern light that poured out from behind the windows or shutters of a saloon, most everything was cloaked in darkness.

Morgan rode slowly through town, remaining watchful as he navigated the streets. Dodge could be a wild, contentious place. The late hour only meant that it was more likely that those on the street were drunk and possibly ornery. It was best to stay wary.

Memory guided Morgan to the local jail, which had been pointed out to him during his last visit by the Town Marshal, Larry Deger. Morgan had afforded Deger the respect due the man's office, though he'd found little to respect in the man himself. Deger was a portly fellow who was friendly enough, but clearly unconcerned with making any serious efforts at maintaining order in Dodge. The Town Marshal had apparently made enough friends to insure he received steady pay for minimal work, save for the few errands his supporters asked of him.

Morgan rode past the jail, sighting the residence that was his destination. Unlike Deger, the Marshal's deputy was a man Morgan only knew by reputation: Wyatt Earp. By all accounts, Earp was a man who could handle any trouble that came his way, and Morgan felt certain that the deputy was one of the primary reasons there wasn't more chaos in Dodge City. Masterson, the Sheriff, was the other. Morgan didn't envy either of the men their task. Keeping the powder keg that was Dodge City under control had to be an unending battle.

Morgan dismounted and walked up to the door of the deputy's station and residence. No one liked being awakened in the middle of the night, but he doubted he was the first to inconvenience Earp in that fashion. He hoped the deputy would be understanding, especially when he'd heard the nature of Radcliffe's crimes.

He knocked firmly on the door and waited.

The door cracked open just a hair at first, and a rather irritated looking man with a considerable mustache appeared in the doorframe wearing a sleeping robe. A rather long barreled pistol had been hastily tucked into a loop near the waist. He looked Caleb up and down appraisingly, and seemed to decide that it wasn't trouble and his stance seemed to relax a hair more. The man cleared his throat, and spoke - simple and to the point. He was terse, but not rude, and clearly tired.

"It's late. What do you want?"

Morgan tipped his hat. "Deputy Marshal Earp, I apologize for disturbing you at such a late hour. My name is Caleb Morgan. I am a United States Marshal assigned primarily to Kansas. I and some associates of mine, with the assistance Dan Phelps, the Town Marshal of Kinsley, captured a criminal earlier this evening, a man named Vinton Radcliffe. As best I can determine, Radcliffe was responsible for an attack earlier today on a Union Blue locomotive and for kidnapping one of the passengers. There's more to the story than that, but suffice to say Mr. Radcliffe has been responsible for a spat of recent mayhem."

"In the process of apprehending him, one of my associates injured him with a shotgun. He'll probably need better medical care than we were able to give him. But he also needs to be secured and I had hoped I could place him in your jail for safe keeping."

The deputy studied Caleb with a pensive expression for a good moment before speaking again. "United States Marshal, hmm...Dan Phelps, good man. Met him once. Don't go anywhere. I'm gonna get some clothes on and we can put your prisoner in the jail. We got room."

After closing the door and rummaging about for a few minutes, he came back outside with a rumpled looking outfit - a shirt, trousers held up by suspenders, and he put on a jacket. He had a Peacemaker and another gun, the one with the abnormally long barrel, holstered at his waist. All in all, he looked like a man that just rolled out of bed and pulled on a gun belt, though he seemed to be fairly alert.

"Sorry if I wasn't too polite earlier. I get a little ornery when I wake up unexpectedly. Not the first time though. There's enough that happens around here tha it's gettin' to be a regular occasion. What did he do, this prisoner you got?" he asked as he started walking, before stopping and realizing that he didn't know where the prisoner was.

"And where are we goin' to get him from?"

"The folks who were courageous enough to help me have him trussed up on a buckboard. It's next to the Dodge House, where we were hoping to find accommodations for the night."

Morgan paused, searching for the words to answer Earp's question about Radcliffe's wrongdoing. "To tell you the truth, some of what Radcliffe's done is going to require me to contact some of my superiors...at the Agency. I was a passenger on the train that was attacked, along with the people that assisted me. A band of, what I believe to have been bounty hunters, had laid an ambush for the train. They intended to detain a passenger on the train. A Mr. Edwin Wilder. The men were attacked and killed by...creatures. Dead men brought back to life."

"Those same creatures attacked the train as we investigated the dead bounty hunters. We fended them off, but Mr. Wilder was taken. With Dan Phelps' assistance we tracked Mr. Wilder to an abandoned mine just outside of Kinsley. There we encountered more of these dead creatures that Radcliffe had animated with the use of a machine: men and animals. One of them Marshal Phelps had known in life. We dispatched the creatures, destroyed the machine, and captured Radcliffe."

"Radcliffe had been acting as the town's doctor under the false name Hodges. He'd been taking bodies from Kinsley's graveyard for his experiments."

Morgan paused, uncertain how Earp might react. "The folks guarding Radcliffe, they can back up what I've told you," he added. "As can Marshal Phelps. Course, we agreed that we would only tell the full details to those that needed to know them."

"I believe you, Marshal. We've had something like that up here, truth to tell. Bit of a dust up at the graveyard, you might say though I don't like to talk on it. I had to rustle up a posse and head over there, but it turned out to be a...stranger problem than I had thought. But as I said, don't like to talk on it. That's Agency business, or Ranger business. Either way, its none of mine. Hell, that's the last thing I need now. I've got enough trouble keepin' live folks from killin' each other," he said.

"Tensions are high in Dodge. If you're going to be around for a few days, I might could use your help, though we can talk about that later. This the wagon you were talkin' about?"

Gabby nods at Randolph. "Suits me just fine." Gabby nods to Caleb and the lawman trailing behind him. "Evening, sir." he says to the deputy. "Got a right bastard here fer you to lock away."

Earp looks in the wagon, and takes a look at the man's leg, and the shotgun, whistling softly at the sight. "Ain't that a beaut. Hell, you could just tie him to a hitching post. I don't think he'll be going anywhere...not anytime soon. On that leg, maybe not ever. But we got room in the jail, so I suppose we might as well throw him in there. We'll get the Doc to look at it tomorrow, see what can be done. I suppose you two are the ones that helped Marshal Morgan here secure this prisoner..."

"Unless you need this wagon for the night, I can take him over to the jail and you folks can come pick it up the buckboard in the morning. I'll see to the horse. You all can get yourselves a room and get some sleep. Sounds like you've had a helluva night already."
This message was last updated by the player at 22:48, Mon 17 Dec 2012.

"It weren't just us, sir, but that's about the right of it. My nephew and one o' the ladies from the train helped us take him down as well." he looked at the wagon. "I reckon I don't need this thing at all. This is his buckboard." He jerks a finger at Radcliffe. "It's my donkey, though."

He clambers down out of the wagon ans stretches, his old bones creaking and popping. He groans a bit, then whistles for Clementine, who hops down out of the buckboard, goes up the the deputy, and bounces up and down excitedly. "I think Clementine likes ya, Deputy." Gabby grins.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:32, Mon 17 Dec 2012.

"I expect we should take the wagon by the hotel first, Deputy, and unload our luggage," he offers the man his hand, "My name's Randolph Darling. I'm a writer and I'd like to drop by the jail tomorrow to talk to you. I'm always looking for interesting stories."

He knelt down briefly to pet the dog before standing back up. "That's a good dog you got yourself there," he said. When Darling made his introduction, he shook the man's hand.

"Good to meet ya. Well, we can just take this thing on to the hotel, you can unhitch your mule and I'll take it from there. I don't know what we'll do with his horse and wagon. Probably sell it. Say, why don't you all drop by the jail tomorrow? You three, and whoever else helped take this guy in - the other two you mentioned," he said jerking a thumb over at Radcliffe, as he climbed into the buckboard.

"I got my hands full, and need a little help over the next couple o' days. If y'all helped a U.S. Marshal, you're the kinda folks I'm lookin' for. Got some grit. Oh, and it pays too."

"I appreciate all your help, Deputy Marshal" Morgan said, offering Earp his hand, "I'll come by first thing in the morning. I'll be glad to help you any way I can." He nods toward Gabby and Darling. "And, for what my word's worth, you couldn't ask for better people than these."

Clementine barks happily at the Deputy's words. She seems to know when she's being complimented.

Gabby begins unhitching Bessie. "Hmmm...I reckon I might be interested, though me and my nephew weren't planning an extended stay in Dodge. On the other hand, I surely do wish to help the law. And I'm glad to hear it pays...we're headin' to Califroney, and I understand it can be a mite expensive to get set up there."

Earp had something of a friendly air to him when he spoke, though there was a counter measure of sternness in his voice as well that seemed to balance it all out. Still, he had a wry smile for them. "Your word's worth a lot, Marshal - but what would be worth more is if you show up with these two and the others in the morning. Like I said, I could use all the help I can get." Driving the wagon as they moved on, he was fairly quiet, though it wasn't a long trip to the Dodge House.

He turned to address Gabby and Randolph as they arrived. "Like I said, the pay is good and it's just two days work. There may well be a little danger involved, but I figure folks who just brought in a criminal are made of sterner stuff."

"Well, when you put it that way, I'll see you in the morning, Mr..."

"Pardon my manners. It's the late hour, no doubt. The name's Wyatt Earp. I'm the Deputy Marshal here in Dodge." He extended a hand to Gabby.