((Some Mood Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3erBcUTj0U))

Gabby stares at Wainwright, thoughts churning through his mind.

Here. The man who'd delivered the letter to him from the Wendell Mining Company saying the land he'd mine was now their property, despite him owning it free and clear. The man who'd stuck a gun down his mouth after several punches to the face when Gabby had refused to leave.

The man who'd stolen his dream.

"You..." He breathed through gritted teeth, while giving him a glare that could chill Hell itself.

Then he smiled. "You know what, never mind. I don't fancy givin' you the opportunity to steal any more o' my hard-earned cash." he looked over at the rest of the gentlemen at the table. "You oughta watch this'n. He's liable to take whatever's not nailed down...and even some things that is. Ya'll might want to consider playin' with a better class o' person."

Daniel walked over to the barkeep at the beckon. He nodded as he approached, "Sure thing. Beer if ya got it, whisky if ya don't." He glanced over at his uncle and noticed the change in his attitude. "Make that two." He held two fingers aloft to be certain to be understood. He waited for the barkeep to return with his drinks while keeping an eye on his uncle and sparing the occasional glance at Sky Dog.

The bartender poured out two warm beers from a small keg, and set them out for Daniel. "That'll be a dime," he said, though he was paying more attention to the situation near the card table.

"Hey...I don't steal nothin'...you piss smellin' old man. Who the hell are you, anyway?" He knew it was a weak response as soon as he left his mouth, but the old man's grit took him by surprise. He wasn't used to being talked to like that, or stood up to, for that matter.

There were four other men at the table other than Wainwright. Two of them looked at the situation developing with curiosity, but the other two looked a little edgy and didn't look on Gabby too kindly, it seemed. Wainwright himself though, he was growing red in the face. He tried to regain control, but he was quivering, and instead of the cold, steely eyed gaze and heavy voice laced with menace that he had used to intimidate so many men off their claims, he responded with an irate tone and an angry look as his hand slid to push back his coat and show Gabby a holstered pistol.

"You better watch your jaw, old man, or it may not stay attached to your face for much longer."

"No, I don't suppose you would remember any o' the people whose lives you ruined back in Blackthorn. All them miners, hopin' to strike it rich, and then having their claims yanked out from under 'em by your pappy's company when those hopes started bearin' fruit. Well, take a good, long look at me, Owen Wainwright. Because I remember you." He flips the lapel of his vest open to show the tin star pinned to his shirt. "I'm Gabriel Michael Clark, Special Deputy o' Dodge City. So if'n you got a problem with me, you got a problem with the law. You're a low-down cur, but you ain't stupid. I didn't come here to have it out with you, I got other things on my plate. But if you insist on havin' it out with me, I'll haul your ass to jail and let you wire home to pappy to bail it out. Do we have an understandin'?"

Daniel briefly had a mind to step in to help out his uncle, but thought it might be better if Gabby handled this one on his own as long as he was able. Daniel had heard plenty that riled him up but good, so it wouldn't take much for Daniel to decide that violence might be the answer here. However, Gabby had been more directly affected by what happened all those years ago. Much more directly affected.

At the very least, Gabby knew that Daniel had his back. Daniel kept his eyes on any others that looked to have a mind to do something stupid. Gabby could handle himself one on one, but if there were any others that decided to change the odds, Daniel would happily even them out again.

Surprise showed in his eyes when Gabby didn't back down. "Blackthorn? I've plied my trade in so many places it's hard to remember them all...but I think I remember Blackthorn. That was the silver mines, if I recall. Damn good money in silver. Little shit of a town, though there were some good whores at the Oriental. I hope I never see the place again, truth be told." He stood up, as if making ready to leave.

"I guess we have an understanding. You're a deputy, so you're workin' for that goddamn Yankee sonuvabitch Wyatt Earp. And you're not here to settle up with me...at least not yet. I'm not eager to shoot a law man, though, so you might wanna keep that thing on for as long as you can."

"If I never see you again, it'll be too soon." Gabby spits back. He moves to make space for Wainwright to depart.

Well, he'd just made a hash out of this whole thing. He'd just revealed himself a deputy, so there went any chance of getting anything on the Wilderness Riders out of the people here...unless someone had enough of a beef with the Riders to rat them out.

However...

Wainwright was a thug with connections. The Wilderness Riders were thugs looking for opportunities. Were they connected?

It looked like he'd have to change his tactics, though. The whole bar knew he was a deputy. That might lose him some good ol' boy points, but perhaps those who respected the law might open up a bit more. It was a gamble, sure...but they couldn't just leave empty-handed.

He went over to Danial, making sure to never quite turn his back on Wainwright until the man had left the building.

With nothing more than a low chuckle, Owen Wainwright and two of the men who were at their table took what was theirs, and made their exit from the Lone Star Saloon. The other two players looked at Gabby in silence, as the whole place seemed to be now. A sudden quiet descended on the place, and it took some time before even the seeds of conversation began to sprout.

Korpi looked up from a friendly game of catch-the-tail and hopped back into a slant of sun, wary of the small clump of iron devils all leaving together. Sky Dog merely leant back and watched them move and blur into brightness, his eyes heavy-lidded, hood forward and thoughts opaque. The hand not ruffling gold fur toyed with a large black feather.

Daniel looked at the men leaving then back to Gabby as walked over, waiting to see if there was any direction from his uncle. Seeing none, he held out the beer to him as he quietly walked over to where Daniel had been standing. The barber took a seat and waited until his uncle was close enough that he could speak quietly to the elder gentleman, "That fella need ta be followed? I know he's got somethin' comin' to him fer what he did ta ya. Or do we got somethin' else we wanna do here? Do some questionin' or whistlin' Dixie or somesuch?"

Gabby took a long pull from his beer. "Maybe. I dunno. I think I done messed up our chance here. I messed up real bad." He begins shaking. Standing up to Wainwright had taken more nerve than he'd let on, and the adrenaline that had been fueling his bravado was draining fast. "I'm just a stupid old man who can't keep his tongue calm." He takes another pull from his beer. "That bastard broke my nose, you know. Just before he shoved his gun down my throat to force me to abandon my claim. He's bad news. But I don't know if he's tangled up with anythin' concernin' us. My gut tells me so, but that's the same gut that had me all suspicious an' paranoid about Randolph Darlin', so I don't know how far we can trust that. I think I done wrecked our chance to whistle Dixie here...I don't know what to do."

Daniel smiled and shook his head while placing a comforting hand on Gabby's shoulder. "One thing ya ain't is stupid, uncle. You gotta a lot more sense an' gumption than that feller ya faced down. Looked like he wanted ta piss hisself, an' that's with two fellas backin' 'im up. He done ya wrong, an I'd understand if ya wanna go after 'im. I gotcher back, whatever ya decide."

He paused for a moment, "As fer Mister Darlin', why do ya think yer suspicions ain't right? There's somethin' don't sit right about ol' Randy. Sent me off on some wild goose chase when that woman got killed. Makes me feel like he wanted me outta th'way. Whether ta remove support for ya or for more nefarious reasons, I dunno."

Gabby smiles faintly. "You're a good boy, Danial. Thanks. But I don't wanna go after him. I'd as soon stay as far away from that bastard as I can get, unless his business is somethin' the Law of Dodge oughta get involved in. We need to find the Simpkins boys and talk with them. That's why we done come here. No use rubbin' salt in old wounds."

He nods. "I suppose it's all this Agency stuff. Thinkin' that the Union's got spies all around has me thinkin' everyone's a spy. But it's good to know I ain't the only one a mite suspicious o' him."

he sighed. "Well, the cat's out o' the bag, but we can at least ask the Barkeep what he might know about the Wilderness Riders."

Daniel nodded when his uncle stated he didn't want to chase after the fellow that had wronged him. He wasn't surprised, but he'd have his Uncle's back either way. "We can keep a special eye out fer him an' those other fellas. Folk like that always seem ta make trouble or find it."

He scrunched up his face a bit at Gabby's mention of the Agency. "Whaddya know 'bout the Agency? An' why would bluebellies wanna spy here? Not like they need ta be undercover in these parts. Seems like spies are more useful south o' Mason-Dixon, ya know?" Daniel was sure there was a good reason for a spy to be in these parts, but he wasn't sure he understood what it was. Perhaps his uncle could be a source of enlightenment.

Gabby nods at Danial's suggestion to keep an eye out for Wainwright.

Gabby shrugs. "Ain't much. They's supposed to be spies or somesuch. Apparently the Union uses these Agents to look into supernat'ral events...that's why they done hauled Radcliffe away. But as for spies, well...Dodge City's one o' the biggest cities between North an' South. Right smack dab in the most holy disputed zones in the whole war. I reckon they come here so they can head on. Or maybe just keep a weather eye on things, see if anything's brewin' in Texas or Indian Country." He rubs his jaw. "And then there's all the unofficial fightin' that goes on here in Kansas. The Border Ruffians and the Bushwhackers takin' shots at each other. Both countries count Kansas as their state, so both have a powerful interest in watchin' what the other side does."

Daniel nodded sagely at the response. He was no expert in spy-work, or even particularly knowledgeable, though he did wonder. Having undercover assets in such a place as this could provide more benefit than ones that were apparent. Perhaps folks that said the right word at the right time could sway opinions and somesuch. But one thing confused him a bit, "Wait, when'd they haul Radcliffe away?"

"Sometime yesterday. Me an' Caleb went to talk to him, see what he might know about...the Hays thing." Gabby says. "But they'd already taken him away. You were off with Sky Dog doing your barberin'. Caleb said the US Marshals are under orders to contact the Agency when they come across...things like Radcliffe's experiments. He was obviously surprised they'd gotten to him so quick, muttered somethin' about havin' second thoughts about callin' 'em in so quick next time. I reckon the fact they got to Radcliffe so fast means they've got a hidden base or somethin' here in Dodge."

Daniel suppressed the chill creeping down his spine at all this talk of spies. However, it still didn't seem to add up. "What sorta power've these Agents got in Dodge that they can getta man outta jail? Seems like we ain't in the union here, right? They got special rights here? It don't 'zactly add up."

"Same one the Texas Rangers got, I reckon." Gabby says. "I'll have ta show you some o' my issues o' the Epitaph that mentions them, but since both sides claim Kansas, both sides try ta enforce their laws here, and Marshal Earp said he didn't want to play no favorites." He finishes off his beer. "We can worry 'bout government overreach later. We got a job to try an' do now. All this talk 'bout spies an' spooks ain't gettin' us any closer to the Wilderness Riders."

Daniel shook his head, "Texas Rangers didn't get no call nor chance ta haul Radcliffe away. I'd say Marshal Earp was playin' favorites." Daniel looked around at the folk in the bar and hoped that it had livened up and gotten back to normal during their brief conversation. The next step seemed to be seeing if the barkeep might be of help. He said to Gabby, "Let's get ya gabbin' with the man behind th'bar then."

He looked up from his uncle at the man pouring drinks, "Barkeep?" Daniel raised a hand and a finger to get his attention.

"What'll it be?" he asked simply, looking uncertainly at the two.

The shaman sat by the threshold and half-dreamed, wedged between thought and sleep like a bird or a boy making his nest in a pine.

The constant murmur of Americans from the bar behind blurred to a single voice like water's. The shadow of the god's presence brushed near him, a textured darkness up at the back of his mind. Sky Dog shifted his thoughts away from the watcher, fingers stirring through Clementine's fur. Lucidly drifting where space was of no consequence and Time unhinged and relative, Sky Dog cast his mind back into familiar geographies.

Needles thick underfoot, springy, giving off the smell he'd always associated with summer. A thin stream. The sparse shelter of a crevice in the rock. The grave of a child up on the ridge, its long poles like the legs of some monstrously tall animal from the Upper World. Sky Dog was unsurprised at the image of the place where he'd been born: it was his start, and no matter how far he migrated his soul would return to it. Sky Dog settled his dozing viewpoint in the same position as his body for stillness, scratching his antlers against the tree behind (they itched) and set to calling his spirit helpers in to be groomed and replenished by his name-song.

Korpi stopped mock-murdering Clemya's tail a moment and cocked her head to identify the chant. Satisfied her brother was still partly present in the Middle World, she hopped up on Clemya's flank and walked up her back to offer her the rat, since it looked like they'd be there a while.

First, as usual, the golden flicker of his precious vampire butterly. Then the warbler, the frost-fox and the viper... Sky Dog's heart stumbled and beat cold, once, as the impression of the god's cachinnations crackled through the branches. He waited, fearing he had been minded to stave in the head of a helper-spirit, then gathered his will and sang stronger, drawing those still absent more forcefully. Ermine, spider, eel darting through the air... At almost the last syllable the gyrfalcon barrelled down. Barred white feathers. Her eternal amber glare.

Sky Dog physically winced a little as the hawk-spirit ripped flesh from the back of his hand by way of greeting, Elsewhere. Reaching out to stroke, placate; red smudges on her white chest. He couldn't help but grin twice over, relieved they all were safe.

"Information, if you please." Gabby says. "We're investigatin' some trouble at the Dog Eye Saloon last night. Couple o' boys by the name o' Simpkins beat up a nigger, and The damnyank Marshal done wants us to give them a talkin' to. I heard the Wilderness Riders hang their hats here sometimes, so I was wonderin' if you could point me in their direction so I can get this done an' over with."

Gabby didn't like the spin he was putting on this--true, he'd only heard about the beating, and he definitely didn't approve--but sadly not everyone shared his "live and let live" philosophy when it came to colored folk. Now that he'd blown their cover, he was hoping that spinning this investigation into a perfunctory chore being undertaken by a resentful deputy would garner a bit of sympathy from the pro-Confederacy crowd here.

"Damn Wilderness Riders, makin' us all look bad. Don't know what's worse, them or you workin' with that goddamn Yankee. Prolly them," he said, grunting.

Pointing over at the table that Gabby had been about to sit down at, he gestured at two of the men there. "Jake and Ralphie Simpkins. You were about to play a game of cards with 'em. Don't know if they'll want you back there, now that everybody knows. But there you go."