”If you do as I’ve asked, the outcry in town will inform me that you’ve succeeded,” Dolan says, surrendering the envelope. ”Do whatever you need to do to avoid detection. Mr. McDaniels will find you when the time is right.”

“Questions?”

"And just how will he find me?"  Kate asked with a sidelong glance.  She smiled knowing she wouldn't get an answer.

”You let Mr. McDaniels concern himself with that,” Dolan says, turning his attention to some correspondence on his desk, ”I look forward to hearing from you soon, ma’am. I trust that you won’t disappoint me.”

Back outside on the covered porch of the “The House”, Jesse Evans says, ”Sounds as though Mr. Dolan wants you to see that business through on your own. Just as well. Me an’ a couple of the others need to take a ride out to the McSween spread. Have a look around.”

“You got any lessons saved up for later, reckon you’ll find me over at Wilson’s this afternoon.” Tipping his hat to her, he and his tall companion step over to the nearby hitching post, where their horses await.

Kansas Kate could only nod.  Bed made.  Lie.

She made some steps before she bothered to read the devil's contract, it was ungainly to seem eager to know the name, but there was no point in waiting excessively either.

Reaching into the envelope, Kate withdraws a tintype. The image is that of a smiling woman with long dark hair, who the outlaw immediately recognizes as Lincoln’s schoolmistress, standing beside an oak tree with a small group of children.

Neatly printed along the lower border of the tintype is the name “VALENTINA PEREZ”.

Kansas Kate spat in disgust.  That was low.  What a sorry ass outfit.  No ladies^*, no children, only two rules and they'd already broken them both.

Her first thought was she needed a hog.  But no... she'd already done that hoodwink once.  Deception had gotten her into this mess but it wouldn't get her through it.  Besides, Kansas Kate was no snake oil seller or gypsy queen, she was a God damned gunfighter.

Deception would have to give way to audacity.  Audacity was her strong suit.

She knew what she had to do.  She felt really bad about it, but she didn't see another way.

Dolan wanted her to use the Toothpick to make an example of the school marm.  Kansas Kate would do exactly that.

But first, a recoineutteur.  A long distant look at the schoolhouse was in order, since it was a wreck.  The question was, how much of a wreck at the moment.

*Kansas Kate was not a lady she was a woman, they are not the same thing!

Moving down the street, Kate is able to get a good look at the schoolhouse. Although only a short time has passed since the children’s rescue, Kate can see that repairs have already been undertaken on the structure.

Gray ash still stains the sides of the building and small collections of it, the leavings of the black vines, are still visible in spots on the adjoining yard. The broken window that some of the children used for escape has been replaced, the glass doubtlessly brought in from somewhere like Roswell. Moving inconspicuously across the street, Kate can see that the schoolhouse’s back door has also been replaced, but is unpainted, still having the appearance of freshly cut lumber.

Kate can see that several pieces of broken planks have been piled beside the steps leading to the rear door, suggesting to her that efforts have been made to begin fixing the hole in the floor, but are still in the early stages. No doubt, the opening in the floor and the tunnel that joins it, remain accessible.

Kate hung around just a bit, mostly watching the place for workmen.  After that, well, school marms usually lived near the school, it was time to figure out which one was Perez's.

In the time Kate devotes to keeping watch, she sees no workers on the property, or inside the schoolhouse itself. The outlaw isn’t surprised. No doubt most of the work on the building is being performed by volunteers, who can give time to the effort in between the hours demanded by their own obligations.

As she prepares to go in search of Perez’ home, Kate recalls hearing that, in the wake of the goings on at the school, the teacher has been residing at the Patron Boarding House, at the insistence of Renata Montaño.

Glancing down the street, the outlaw can see a few schoolchildren emerge from the front door of La Iglesia de San Juan Bautista, having apparently reached a break in their lessons.

If Kate had ever gone to school and she was pretty sure she had at one point as she remembered getting whipped, it was so long ago and so infrequent she didn't tend to remember when schools let out.

But that didn't matter, the schoolteacher didn't leave when the chitlins did.  There was much to do after.

She surveyed the scenes again and mapped it out in her head.  Now, a wild card.  She wondered if the Baxter brat was out there among them, and went lookin' for him.

As she draws several paces closer to the church, Kate spies Lyle Baxter talking with a pair of boys his age. He spots the outlaw approaching and grins, saying something to his companions.

As Kate gets nearer, she is able to hear the conversation.

”...really a bounty hunter?”

”It’s what she told me,” Baxter says in answer to his friend, ”My Pa sure seemed to think it was the truth.”

”She ain’t as purdy as you said.”

”You’s just jealous cuz she never came to talk to you.”

”Yeah, well Sheriff Brady ain’t never come out to your house.”

”Only reason th’ Sheriff came to your house, Kurt, is cuz your daddy and Mr. Acosta wuz arguin’ over who owned that stupid mule.”

By this time, Kate has reached the small knot of youngsters. Lyle looks up at her, clearly still awed by her presence. ”Were you needin’ to speak with Father Narvaez, ma’am?” he asks.

As Kansas Kate got closer, she let out one sharp whistle, and then gestured to Lyle to come hither with a flick of her chin.

Baxter obediently scampers over to the outlaw, looking up at her with eyebrows raised. ”Yes’m?”

Kansas Kate knelt next to the corruptible youth.  "I need a favor kid.  You do this, and I owe you one.  Maybe I get rid of someone you don't like none too much."

”You’ll owe me one?” the boy asks, apparently awed by the idea. ”Course I’ll help. You tryin’ to get rid of Mr. Dolan?”

"Yeah I'll owe ya."  She narrowed her eyes when he mentioned Dolan.  "Kid I don't want to hear you say that name again."

She looked around.  "All right I need you keep this is a secret.  Senorita Perez knows who I am.  I need to tell her something.  But no one can know I told her.  I need you to tell her to meet me tonight in the old schoolhouse.  She's gonna be acting real funny for a while after that.  You just go along with it.

"If anyone asks, all I asked you is when school is out.  Got me?"

”Yes’m. I’ll tell her straight away. And I won’t say nothin’ to no one else. You’ve got my word.”

Baxter leaves at run, headed straight for the church entrance, ignoring the curious frowns of his friends. He disappears inside the iglesia.

"That kid's gonna be governor someday.  If I can disavow him of fool notions."

That left nothing to do but procure the necessaries.  A towel.  Soap.  Buckets.  Water.  A whetstone... no that wasn't necessary, Kate could use her pants as a strop, but maybe if they had scrap leather and compound she'd take it.  A chair.  And slowly move it all into the abandoned and damaged schoolhouse.

Kansas Kate really, really hated what she planned to do, and she'd sure hate anyone who planned to do the same to her, but she didn't see another way.  Perez wasn't a shooter, she couldn't use the same tricks an an outlaw.  Of course the schoolmarm might not follow instructions, so this could get real interesting.

OOC: Double checking - Kate can easily obtain the supplies she needs from any of the three stores in Lincoln. With that done, should I move things ahead to the meeting at the schoolhouse?

I do believe so!

Dusk brings a bruised purple to the horizon, long shadows from the west stretching down the length of Lincoln’s Main Street, cloaking it in a covering of early night. Lanterns slowly flicker to life within the windows of shops and saloons, rectangles of dim, flame colored illumination.

The schoolhouse is already overtaken by the gray haze of evening when Valentina Perez mounts the steps leading to the front door. Opening it, the teacher pauses at the faint, musty odor, like the stale air of a long closed tomb, that continues to linger within the structure. Her eyes travel over the roughly scattered desks and the gaping hole in the floor, her expression becoming sad as she recalls how lively the vacant building once was. Only the freshly cut lumber, stacked against the eastern wall, offers a glimmer of hope.

Stepping inside, the schoolmistress pulls her shawl tight across her shoulders. ”Hello?” she says hesitantly to the gloom.

Kansas Kate had waited and was stropping the large knife when Perez entered.  With the floor of the place nonexistent for the most part, it wasn't practical to wait by the door.  Instead she'd positioned herself with a little bit of enterprise.  Two chairs had been scavenged from the wreckage, driven deliberately into the earth ramp, borrowing a bit of lumber to brace their positions.  A piece of scrap sat nearby with the bucket on it.

She'd had plenty of time to set this all up.

"Get that door closed quicker'n a jackrabbit on a greased up griddle."  She rasped.  "'n get over he'h.  We got lots ta talk about an' th' faster th' better.  Don't be foolish now."

Kate felt sick to her stomach.  She really didn't want to do this, but she saw no other way.  Dolan said it had to be with the Toothpick.

Perez does as Kate instructs, pushing the door closed, the interior of the schoolhouse becoming swallowed in darkness as she does so, only glimmers of moonlight in the windows providing a hint of blue radiance. Oddly, Kate has the fleeting, momentary sense that the stale air within the empty building becomes sharply colder.

Perez eyes the knife with an openly fearful expression. ”What...what is happening? Why have you asked me to come here tonight?”

"Sit down."  Double K commanded.  Assuming compliance for the sake of this not taking all week, she began.

"We do not have a lot of time, so I'm gonna jaw jack real pronto here, you got me?  First, we need to establish something.  From this night on, Ya don't know me.  If anyone asks you about me, you clam up.  If they really press it, ya start bawlin' an' cryin' an' tellin' 'em what a low down dirty bitch ah am and how scairt ya was an' how ya seen th' error of yer ways.  If anyone ever talks about me, ya act real, real scairt.  If'n ya needs to tell anyone the truth, ya can trust th' man Cooper or that there oriental Ranger fella."

Kate made eye contact with her, cleaning the Toothpick off with a clean piece of the strop.

"Now, here's what's happened.  Ya done run yer mouth, an please understand ah am right proud of ya fer it, but ya done run yer mouth about a feller what's got a small pecker 'twixt his legs, so he's gotta send someone else ta do ya dirty.  Now listen real good, ah am a piece of shit, fresh outta th' horse's ass.  Ah understand how people like him think, because ah am people like him and we ain't really people.  But this dude and his sorry ass outfit, they make me smell like a rose by comparison.  People like them give outlaws a bad name."

Kansas Kate did not dwell on that non sequitur.

"Dolan done hired me ta 'take care of ya'.  Bein' a sick turdlicker, he wanted me ta do it wit' this-"  Kate showed the hapless schoolteacher the length of the honed and polished blade. "Said make an example of ya.  Leave ya where ya'd be found an' all that."

Kansas Kate shrugged and retracted the weapon slightly.

"Now here's what's goin' on.  Ah need this hombre, and I do use that term loosely as I figger he ain't actually got no balls, ta think ah can make his life easier.  Truth is, it's a big old okie doke.  These fellers are dumber'n camel snot, and ah figure it's better if ah have 'em break shit and scare people rather than start shootin'.  Ah hate ta say it, but ah'm in cahoots with th' law on this one.  Ah'm tryin' to give these fellers the run around as long as poss'ble, hopefully th' law can figger out what the hell it is they plan ta do exactly, because this won't last forever.  They'll force me into a sitcheeashun where the only cure will be a serving of hot lead sooner 'n later."

She gestured with the long knife.

"Clearly, he meant fer me ta kill ya, real nasty an' brutal like.  Well, that ain't gonna wash so mah first idea was ta jigger somethin' up with a pig an' get some witnesses an' do it theater like... but that's too complicated, takes too long, an' it relies on three or more people keepin' the lie straight.  But then ah thought about it, he didn't actually say kill ya, he said takes care of ya."

She sighed deeply and looked intently into Valentina Perez's eyes.

"Look, one gal to another, ah hates ta do this to ya.  Ah really do, it ain't right, but it's th' only play ah have.  Here's what's gonna happen."  She held the Toothpick up and pointed at the bucket and the soap.  "Yer gettin' a haircut.  Well, a shave really.  Ah know, ah know.   But yer hair will grow back.  What won't grow back is yer guts after Dolan's goons fill it with lead.  An'... well ah'm gonna have to bust yer lip and give ya a shiner too.

"An' yer gonna go to school tomorrow like that.  When the chitlins ask ya what happened, tell 'em ya been a wicked woman an' ya been mean to Mr. Dolan, an' he's a fine outstanding gentleman.  An' then yer gonna have the chitlins get their little pens and their little papers and they're all gonna write letters of appre-shee-ashun to him, asking him ta please forgive ya.  Gets th' real little ones to draw cute little pictures of a man on a horse lookin' real big 'n hero an' ah'll just tell 'em they's pictures o' him, little spitfucks can't draw for shit no how.

"Then yer gonna give me all of them, an' something valuable of yers, an' ah'm gonna take it all back ta him, along with yer purty hair, and convince his sorry ass ta not kill ya.  Look ah know his type, yer mistake is bein' a blasted female, if ya play into his twisted mucked up ideas of what womens is, he'll stop worryin' about ya.  An' yer gonna act like you love this son of a bitch now an' tell every'un in town he's a wonderful an' handsome man.  An' yer gonna hate it, and on th' day of Judgment God will be mad at ya for lyin' so damn good.  But yer gonna do it, an' it won't be forever.  One way or the other, this'll all have to be over sooner'n later.  Because yer reward fer this, besides not dyin', is ya get to see him get his.  When yer standin' there watchin' him drop twenty feet from a twelve foot rope, it'll all be worth it.  Don't worry, ya don't have ta look like a jackass, just blame it on me, it'll be fine.

"But th' fact is, ah can't protect ya an' try to catch this piece of shit at th' same time.  An' you ain't no good fer nothin' gunfighter like me, so ya can't be left ta yer own devices.  So th' hoodwink it is.  Now did ah stutter?"