Late afternoon, April 11th, 1879. Blackthorn, Texas. Good Friday.

---

'When?' said the moon to the stars in the sky
'Soon' said the wind that followed them all

'Who?' said the cloud that started to cry
'Me' said the rider as dry as a bone

'How?' said the sun that melted the ground
and 'Why?' said the river that refused to run

and 'Where?' said the thunder without a sound
'Here' said the rider and took up his gun
--"The Rider #1", Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

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Robertson's Laundry, on the outskirts of town

"Salllll-eyyyyyyy! Dinner's ready!"

The little girl with brown hair and a checkered blue-and-white dress looked up from her position, trying to coax the recalcitrant ball or orange fluff from beneath the porch. "Just a minute, mommy! Dandelion got out!" She called back.

"mew!" came a plaintive cry.

"Dandy! Here, pretty kitty! Here kitty, kitty, kitty!" the little girl called. "Please, come on out! I'm sorry I tried to dress you up n' stuff. Please come out!"

The little orange tabby did no such thing. In fact, it seemed to crawl even deeper into the shadows.

"Aww..." Sally pouted. "Come on, Dandy!" This clearly was not working. "Do you want me to get Mr. Nice Savage Indian Man an' Mr. Tin Woodman? Would that get you to come out?"

"hisssssssssssssssssss!"

"Now, Dandelion, don't be like that!" Sally pouted again. "You know you're not supposed to do that. You're supposed to be a good little..." A shadow fell over her. The little girl looked up. "...kitty?"

"YEOOOOOWWWWWWEEEEELLLLL!!!!"

"AIEEEEEEEEEE*--

Meanwhile, at the Makeshift Jail...

The victorious posse enters the building, searching warily for the last assassin. They find Wildcat and her charges instead...

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Meanwhile, at the Church...

As Bill recovers from the whack to the head, Cantrell decides to help him back to the jail.

The crazy clank is left to it's own devices...

---

((OOC: Continue on from the "Bullet From Rum Tum Tugger" and "confessions of a Dirty Scoundrel" threads. Assume the group at the door has moved inside and has met up with Wildcat...post your actions for the last ten minutes here.))
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:44, Sat 15 Oct 2011.

Alouette, not instructed not to let everyone wander off, happily continues to fetch things as promised.

OOC:  Assuming all the Jellicles are present.

Internally, Wildcat is tremendously relieved and wants to be ecstatic.  But in front of her two wards, she dare not show it.

"Marshal Evans, Deputy Bear, Deputy Lawrence, ya'll got no idea how glad ah am ta see ya'll."  She looks at the newcomer, and then at the other newcomer known as Jones or the salesman or something, and wonders, but no one's been holding this other feller at gunpoint.

"We ain't out of th' woods yet.  We need ta get these three ornery critters contained 'gain, an' I encountered this feller wandering th' halls, claims ta be sellin' somethin', I want his story.  Someone had ta help them do this ah reckon.

"Ah tell ya one thing, ah'm searchin' that vault myself this time 'fore they go back in thar.  They done got the dynamite from it somehow.  But first prior'ty is a couple of us stay here and do a real good down to the skivvies search o' them all, an' the rest need ta find Deputy Fuller, and sweep the whole place fer more traps.  Also there be a satchel' o' dyn'mite down th' hall, a good deal of it might'a gone bad but ah reckon th' whole mess can't be harmless."

"And Deputy McCoy. We should be searching for him as well...see what we can do for the poor man." Evans says. Apparently no one has informed him that McCoy was being taken to the church.

Evans looks over at Adrian Vega."Since we are shot-handed, I'd like to offer you a position as deputy, if you are interested. I warn you that the position is incredibly dangerous. But since you're a native of Blackthorn, I'm hoping adding you to our forces will help win the rest of the town over."

Evans then looks over at Jake. "I thought it was your job to search the vault. How did this happen?"

Wildcat holds up her hand.  "Let's be careful 'bout not pointin' fingers just yet Marshal, but we'll hafta figger it out or they'll just do this again.  As fer Deputy McCoy, one of them Adders done snuck in here an' pulled him out, ain't sure how that happened, but ah don't think th' Adder was much inclined to be in league with those three from how he traded words wit' me.  But ah wanna jaw at th' Adder too, figger out how this went down."

Wildcat looks to Deputy Lawrence at this point as well.  "Ah sent him wit' th' Deputy to th' church, always need a fallback point fer this kinda thing... didja see 'em?  And whar's Deputy Clank?  Why ain't th' little feller wit' ya?  He ain't got a lick of sense, can't leave him be alone."

Wildcat wondered who this Johnny Come Lately was too, but four or five things at a time was enough.

"Well, I done come back to Blackthorn as I heard things was gettin' tore up down here," he said slowly, "and I thought as maybe I could lend a hand to settin' things right. I suppose bein' a Deputy is prolly the best way to do that, and maybe help y'all get some good will back in the town."

"Sure, I'll take that job," he said. Growing up, he never would have imagined being a lawman would be his vocation one day, but such things happened in life.

He took off his hat, and held it in the crook of his elbow and said to the woman, "Ma'am, as we haven't had the pleasure, I'm Adrian Vega," he said, extending a hand.

Ma'am?  Has this place done aged me that much?  Then 'gain, ah do look like hell every time ennyone done seen me lately.

"Sir ah reckon you'll pardon me fer not bein terr'bly sociable, given th' circumstances."  Wildcat has learned to shake hands in a most inappropriately masculine fashion, none of that extending the fingertips business, suggesting someone who's experienced a very skewed gender ratio for the a good part of her life.

"Private Wildcat Hawkins, Texas Ranger.  Ah feel right sorry for ya if this'n yer spread round here Mister Vega, Ah only come here ta find out what done happen'd ta th' circuit judge only that done come a cropper.  This here's a mess like I ain't never seen."

Wildcat studied the man, looking for signs of trail dust and other tell-tale signs of a ranch hand.  Was he one of them?

"Ain't one to be an ingrate Deputy Vega but are ya'll one of them dust snakes?  Only ask because it seems darn near every man here is."

Upon her introduction, Adrian looked very impressed that he was speaking to a genuine Texas Ranger, unconsciously straightening his posture. If he thought anything of her handshake, it didn't show on his face. "My daddy was a miner down here back when things was still runnin', an' so was I for a spell, till I up and left town. Mama was a school teacher back in that day too. Anyhow, if you're askin' if I'm one o' them folks as I've heard called Dust Adders, well that ain't me," he said.

"We didn't have no Dust Adders when I lived here - course, that was back when there weren't no ranch neither, just the ol' mine. I only jus' been back a day, really."

"Well ah wouldn't hold it against ya if'n ya were, jus' like ta know who everyone is, not everyone sees fit to pin it upon their breast as ah do.  Ah will beg your pardon in advance sir, Marshal Evans is of course yer superior but seein' as ah believe ah'm still th' only law dog in town that knew and bothered ta bring wrist irons, which yon sorry polecat is wearin' presently, ah take certain professional liberties an' make a few assumptions 'bout who ah'm workin' with.

"I suggest Marshal Evans 'n Deputy Lawrence begin processin' th' suspects in here since th' Marshal will have to catalog the evidence ennyway, ah'll handle what passes fer a lady 'round here when ah get back.  Remember what ah said?"

Wildcat points to her own hair pin she'd used to show Evans how inmates possessing even innocuous items could be problematic just a day before.  "Don't leave 'em nothin'.  Deputy Bear, Deputy Vega, the rest of this buildin' is done likely ta explode, we need ta search it fer 'splosives 'n Deputy Fuller, then check that vault again real good.  Ah found some keys on th' suspect, need ta find out what they go to.  Ah know it seems hateful ta say but need ta go by th' book an' done get these three contained again, first priority, they're like an albatross 'round our neck."

Wildcat looks back to the curious peddler.  "An don't think ah'm done wit' ya'll just yet, you keep it in yer pants until ah am reasonably sure this buildin' is cleared of things that could kill folks."