HD novella

[HDNB]

Jed was amazed at the smaller man's strength. Stevens rolled and carried the empty tuns like they were made of balsa. His sinewy muscles rippled with the effort and sweat stood on his brow, sticking the wild salt and pepper hair to his forehead.
Jed held up his hand in surrender. "you're killing me here" he panted. Stevens threw him a water bottle and smiled. "you should try this when they are full."
Jed tugged on the water bottle and tossed it back.
"Do you know who i could talk to about renting that school bus? He nodded to the adjacent lot that backed onto the hotel's side yard.
"As a matter of fact, that bus is driven by my wife."
"Really?" Jed smiled " I don't suppose you would consider renting that bus to me for the weekend?
"I don't know." Stevens repied. "I imagine she could haul the load, 100 cases of whiskey can't weigh that much more than 30 kids. And likely, they would be better behaved." He smiled. "That bus is only a year old. if any damage comes to her, you'll be replacing it new?"
"No problem" Jed replied.
"1000 Bucks." Stevens said.
"Jaysus! that would damn near buy you a new bus!"
"I know. But looking at you, i judge you are going to need some help loading her too. And i don't want you to damage the seats!"

[HDNB]

'Baked and Wooteck were camped out west of town. They found an old cutline heading north off the highway and backed the old duece and half as far up into the woods as she would go. From the main highway they were invisible. Jed had left them with the last of his RYO and they were streched out on the flat of the hood smoking.
The residual heat radiated up through the metal, the guys luxuriated in the spa-like treatment.
"You gotta try the hot springs." Halfbaked said as he gazed towards the sky, blowing smoke rings in the still air.
Eck pushed his lumbar spine down into the heat of the hood. "Is it better than this?" He replied. "My friggin back is killing me! A case of whiskey doesn't weigh that much, but loading 200 of them on this truck was over the top. I got into reporting because i didn't like this whole Manuel labour thing!" he pronounced it man-well and 'baked picked up on it.
"Yeah, Jed got off pretty lucky using us as his little pack mules, Pedro and Man-well labour." He agreed.
"Man, I hope he gets that buy done so we can get the hell outta here. I don't like being this far away from witnesses." Eck took a long draught on the jug of cider they had picked up and handed it to Halfbaked, he continued. "We are so far out in the sticks here, they would only have to walk five feet off the road to shoot you dead, no one would be the wiser. The coyotes would have you eaten up and your bones spread out far and wide before dawn."

They were up the valley from Pagosa and could see the little town down by the river.
"You know, I've really enjoyed hanging out here the last few weeks." Halfbaked gazed down and pointed towards the south. "The river down there, where it meets the face of the mountain?" Eck's eye travelled in the direction of his pointed finger "Thats where the hot springs are. There is a pool that comes up right beside the river, you can lay in the river water cold as ice and roll over twice and it's like falling into a lobster pot." "I'm thinking i want to buy a place out here and retire into the good life...fishing, hunting..." he trailed off a drew a big puff on his cigar.
"That ten grand from Jed would set you up fine out here." Eck agreed. I could come visit when i get tired of the big city."

[ga flatwoods]

Catch up HDNB! We all know you are snowed in!

[goinbroke2]

Still trying to get a picture that won't show all my personal stuff....

https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/imag ... SyisXr3Isx" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;" rel="nofollow

[HDNB]

Catch up HDNB! We all know you are snowed in!

Catch up? Shee-it. i dun the last 3 paragraphs.

The shadows were getting long as Halfbaked tapped the last cigar from the tin."you want half?" he extended the stick to Eck.
"Nah, you go ahead. you enjoy 'em more than i do."

The heat was all but gone from the engine and the luxury that the hood had offered was replaced with cool, hard steel. Eck slid down and his feet hit the ground with a thump. "I'm gonna grab a shot from the back. You want one?" he called back to 'baked.
"Sure" he agreed and slid down from the duece. "My ass was getting numb laying around up there anyway."

Eck fished a bottle out of the rearmost box. Pulling the cork, he had a sniff. "that's odd." he exclaimed and had a long pull. "Hmm... not bad, what do you think?" he said, handing the bottle to Halfbaked.
Exhaling a cloud of cigar smoke, 'baked had a sniff and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "smells good" he says and has a swig and a confused look comes over his face. "damn, that weird! It smells like awesome whiskey, and the taste is over the top, like caramel and apples, but it gives way to oranges? Geez, it kinda tastes a bit like puke or sour milk now...thats some wild shine, Eck."

"I know! Man, i've drank a lot of whiskey but this is odd. The homemade stuff at home is decades old by the time it comes out of the still house, and this is nothing like what ive had there. I'm not sure if i like it or not. Sweet and sour." With an inquisitive look he raised the bottle for another pull. "no sugar bite in there. damn. sure warms the belly nice, i'm just stumped." he rolled the bottle around in his hands and looked at it intently, like it was about to quietly impart it's secrets by whispering in his ear.

They took the bottle and went to rest on the front bumper, taking in the late afternoon sunshine.
"Boom" they heard from down the valley.
"What the hell was that? Eck looked over to 'baked. "A backfire?" he replied, with a concerned look.
Boom, boom the echo of the shotgun came to them off the walls of the valley, followed by a series pops. Obviously small arms, sounded like handguns.
The reporters looked at each other with concern rising in their faces. "Was that coming from town?" Halfbaked asked, looking a little green aroud the gills.
Eck was moving towards the drivers side and climbing up the side of the truck. "C'mon, 'baked. Let's go check it out!"

[goinbroke2]

After a quick peek down the staircase to confirm the mass of blubber was still unconscious, GB turned, sidestepped the ogre and walked back up the hallway. Well, I can’t sleep now he thought so he went down the back stairs to the bar. A couple shots of whiskey and he was bored. He jumped in the truck and got an uneasy feeling. He sat for a minute then slowly got back out and started searching under the truck. Not finding anything he opened the hood. Satisfied there was nothing sinister going on he got back in the truck. The feeling wouldn’t go away so he put the truck in neutral, got out and reaching in the open door twisted the key. The engine cranked but didn’t fire so he pumped the gas twice and repeated the procedure. KAPOW! The truck backfired and GB was on the ground with his 45 in his hand searching the rooftops. Pucketta, pucketta, pucketta the truck idled with its lumpy cam. He crawled back in and wiped his brow then drove out of town. He was just driving for the sake of driving, checking out scenery. Beautiful place he thought as he meandered up one road and down another. Stopping on a high bluff overlooking a huge expanse he saw the smoke from a train. He watched for 10 minutes, just sitting and watching the smoke trail get closer. A reflection of light to his left caught his eye, something in a treeline, somebody was moving around. Curiosity was getting to him so he lifted the flatbed enough to pull out “Ma bell” and sighted down the scope.

“Well, what are you guys up to” he wondered aloud. A couple guys laying on the hood of an old deuce and a half which in itself wasn’t too concerning, heck maybe they were working in the woods, but why were they parked like they were almost hidden? He looked back at the train, smoke trailing lazily out of the stack. “Beautiful place” he said again “but I gotta get back home soon I think” He could see another open car full of horses arriving. “This’ll be some race” he thought, “if it ever happens”. Getting up and stretching he thought “Time to head back”.
He noticed the guys were gone from the hood of the deuce so he sighted in again and saw them return from the rear of the truck with a bottle. That’s what I need he thought, some homemade stuff instead of the watered down swill they serve in the bars. Just as he brought the rifle down he heard a loud boom and then a series of popping. “Somebody’s getting’ into ‘er” GB mused. He brought the rifle back up and swung the scope around but couldn’t see anything. Once the noise had died down GB placed the rifle back into the box and with one hand he twisted the lever and let the flat deck slowly drop.

He wound his way down the mountain and pulled into town immediately noticing there was no one in sight. “Apparently this is where the shootout was” he thought to himself. He had the 45 laying on the seat beside him and his head was on a swivel as he continually looked around and across roof tops searching for danger. The right windshield exploded and glass flew everywhere, GB mashed the throttle and ducked. He didn’t see where it came from but he was weaving side to side at almost 40mph when a guy with a pistol jumped out from behind a wagon and pointed it at the truck. GB pointed the 45 out the broken windshield and started pulling the trigger. He knew he couldn’t hit anything but it was partially to return fire and cause the guy with the pistol to miss and partially to make himself feel like he was doing something. After the third or fourth round the guy jumped back behind the wagon. GB tore on by at close to 50mph when he saw a guy with a rifle on the roof of a building. He fired up at him as he drove close to the building cutting down on the angle. A snap of the wheel and he turned at the intersection heading for the train station. He had only gone half a block when he seen a couple wagons overturned in the street and rifles poking out from everywhere. He drove between two buildings, not really an alley per se, and was sweating profusely now. Across the back yard of one house and through the clothesline of another. “keep moving, don’t stop” he kept saying to himself. Driving like a Wildman he was zigging and zagging trying his best to miss random objects left lying around while simultaneously pointing his 45 at every possible place a person with a gun could hide. Spinning through a back yard and down across the tracks he was finally at the edge of town. He drove behind the water tower and saw a sliding door left open leading to the coal storage. In through the door and hard on the brakes he slid to a stop inside the dark dusty room. He raised the flatbed a bit and pulled out the rifle. Running out a different door he made it to the water tower and started climbing. Once up on top, he laid on the flat roof of the water tower and looked over town. . “What in the Sam Hell is going on here now” GB muttered to himself.

[goinbroke2]

As he looked around he started to get a better picture of what was happening. The train wasn't fully into the station and there were lots of cars farther back that weren't unloaded yet. There were men on the roofs of the buildings on the far side of the train but not on this side. There was overturned carts and garbage blowing in the breeze due to people just dropping stuff and running. A number of buildings had broken windows. With the exception of the guys milling around on the roofs of the buildings, nothing moved.

GB noticed an old timer stepping daintily as he creeped along side of the coal shed.
"Psst....PSSST....Hey...up here, what's going on with all the gun fire?" he asked the old man.
"Some bad men came in on the train, not even in the station and another group of outsiders who was in the hotel opened up on 'em. People was a runnin' and the bullets was a flyin', don't know who got kilt but I heard some terrible screamin'."
He continued "they are squared off now and got a damn war goin on in the middle of the town but I think one side is tryin to hightail it out of town but can't get through."
"That's why they shot at me I guess, I just drove through town" GB said more to himself than the old timer. "You drove through town? You plum crazy boy?" He shook his head and started to continue on. "recon the town is a little bit twisted up right now, I wouldn't try that a second time" and with a little chuckle he moved around a corner and was gone.

An hour had passed and the guys were off the rooftops, GB thought maybe it was time to test the water. He started back down the ladder....

[Bigbob]

EXTRA EXTRA EXTRA
THE PAGOSA SPRING

SHOOTING BREAKS OUT IN PAGOSA SPRING!!!
A gangland shooting broke out near the train station today around noon. Details are sparse, and no knowledge of casualties are known. Apparently two rival gangs decided to shoot it out in the middle of town. Witnesses stated that at least four men on both sides started a barrage of fire using shotguns,rifles,and pistols.the Sheriff has called for a posse of able bodied men who know how to handle weapons to clean the town. " There is not a reason in the world for thugs to shoot up a town" sheriff Rager stated." I have the manpower now and we're going hunting." Further details as they come avalibile will be posted.

Sheriff posse being deployed

[goinbroke2]

GB waited until he saw movement on the streets before he backed out of the coal shed. Busted window and a hole in the back of the cab where it exited, two bullets in the front right fender, one in the passenger door, "hope I see that bastard again" grumbled GB, "in my sights". He fingered the hole in the back of the cab, "humph, high and on the right, wonder if he's a bad shot or intentionally missed" he wondered.
He drove up beside the train that had fully pulled into the station, some people were wandering about pointing and jabbering. He pulled ahead and swung over the raised crossing point then went over by the hotel. He parked the truck and got out, realising he was still holding his 45 he quickly holstered it. Inside there were groups of women all nattering and seeing who could out-histerical each other it seemed. He took the stairs two at a time and went to his room. The door was kicked open and there were empty casings all over the floor, stepping back out the man in the room beside his said "they came in and were shootin outa my winda too" "Who is they" GB asked. "why those vermin from across the hall down there, that greasy looking guy and his sidekicks"
That was Enrico's room GB noted, so who was coming for them? Competition maybe? He walked down the hall to find Enrico's door open and the room empty. "Friends of yours?" came from behind him. GB looked over his shoulder at the group of men standing there, all armed, all looking pissy. "Hell no, they went in my room when I was out, I wanted to have a little talk about respectin privacy is all" he answered. "Can you handle a gun, senior?" the short chubby guy said as he twisted his mustache. GB pulled his coat back showing the butt of his 45 "I can do ok, I guess" The tall one stepped forward "good, come with us".

There was dozens of guys all milling around out front of the hotel now, a buzz of excitement in the air. "We've got some horses and wagons so we'll load up and head across country where they were heading" somebody yelled out for all to hear. "I'm taking my flatbed if anybody wants a ride" GB called out and immediately guys started jumping on the back of a truck parked across the street. He turned and walked towards his truck but in doing so passed another first and the scene was repeated, guys jumping out of the first truck and clamouring onto the second truck, each trying to get a spot so they wouldn't have to bump along in a horse drawn wagon with no suspension. GB slowed as he passed the truck then sped up the pace again and couldn't help but grin when all the cursing started behind him. He was tempted to walk by his own truck just to see the reaction but thought better of it. All loaded up they left the hotel to "hunt" these bad guys, which bad guys he didn't know, was it the ones who did the ambush or the ones who were ambushed..whatever, GB just idled along behind a slowly plodding horse and wagon. "ya know" he thought to himself, "if we all leave the town to go "hunting" who's going to be there to stop the bad guys if they return before we get back?"
Intrestin' perdickerment he thought, very intrestin indeed.....

[ga flatwoods]

Ok, so who was the bunch going up against enrico the a possee is now after? Were they the ones on the rooftops? Hard for others to help with so much new and unknown thrown in the mix.

[goinbroke2]

As far as GB could figure, Enrico and his buddies opened up on the train as it came into the station. The guys on the train opened up on the hotel/town and when the bullets started flying the sheriff and his deputy came a runnin. Apparently, it was the sheriff and some guys he deputised on the roof overlooking the train and the hotel. The fight went to the street where a vehicle was stolen at gunpoint and Enrico and some guys made a run for it. The sheriff and his boys shot up the car but don't know if they hit anyone. The ones from the train blended into the crowd as they got off and ran away so the sheriff can't even identify who off the train was shooting. GB knows it was Enrico...but nobody else does, all they know is someone from the hotel and someone from the train got in a shootout. GB got a bunch of holes in his truck due to some over-zealous "deputies" thinking he was a runner.



At this point GB was just along for the drive, idling along in 1st, following a couple of horses who seemed to shit every 6-8 steps. They were heading due cross country but GB couldn't figure why since the car they stole was..well, a car! The first half hour the boys were all full of piss and viniger, whooping and hollering, swinging rifles around and telling what they would do when they found these guys. The next half hour was a bit more subdued. By the end of the second hour there was lots of grumbling and groaning and everyone was pissed off it seemed. GB pulled out of the caravan and stopped, he called to the driver of the wagon following "running a bit hot, gonna let it cool down and I'll catch up with ya". As the wagons plodded away he turned to the crew on the back of the truck. "two questions boys, where can I get a bottle and two, who wants to say to hell with this?"

A bottle was immediately passed down and there was a silence as they looked at each other. A couple strong pulls and GB passed it back, "so, forward or back..how about you" he said to a tall lanky kid that might of been 14, holding some reject of a rifle from civil war. "Umm, I'd go back I guess" he stammered. "And there you have it, from the mouth of babes and all that" GB said. "I ain't no baby" the kid shot back puffing his chest up "kilt a bear all by meself last year" GB laughed "ok Davey Crocket, that's one vote" Couple others chimed in for and against but eventually they all decided to turn around. GB took a few more pulls from the bottle and jumped in the truck.



Parked back at the hotel they all spilled out and went to the bar, GB joined the crowd of course. Sitting in a dark corner was Enrico and Moe, hats pulled low and whispering quietly. GB walked by the table and said "how'd cha make out Enrico?" "I need to talk to you" he answered. GB turned around and sat down. Taking Enrico's bottle he put it to his lips and took a long hard pull and set the bottle down with a bang. Enrico was vibrating he was so made at GB's arrogance. "GB sat there quietly for a moment , "spill it" he said. "I've been replaced, my whole fucking crew, everything" he hissed. "trouble in paradise" GB asked with a trace of a smirk. "The boss sent some guys to get rid of me and my crew because I was too well known down here, said I needed a vacation. I knew what he meant dammit, can't get rid of me that easy." "Why are you telling me this and why should I care Enrico, as long as your boss is getting his shine that I'm selling, I don't care who the middle man is" GB said. Enrico leaned forward, growling through clenched teeth, ”don’t fuck with me GB, I’m warning you” GB was quite amused “let me get this straight” he said quietly "you're threatening me, while I'm sitting in here in a bar full of armed guys who were just looking for you...how about this, I get up and leave and as I do I yell you're the ones who was shooting the train...I'll get the guy in the room beside me to collaborate and your goose is cooked". Enrico was openly sweating now, eyes narrowed, he was breathing heavy and GB could almost see his mind furiously trying to find an out. "Problem here GB?" one of the guys from the back of the truck was at his side, hand on his six shooter. "Dunno, is there a problem here pal?" he asked Enrico. "No, no problem at all my friend, everything is good" Enrico said, never breaking eye contact with GB.

There was a commotion outside and people were coming in from the street. "We got 'em" someone yelled. Suddenly everyone was running for the door and talking. GB leaned over and whispered to Enrico "you best get scarce or the ones they haul in might just point you out." Enrico and Moe went out the back and he noticed Moe was limping and keeping his hat covering his leg. The crowd soon spilled in with one guy being shoved and pushed around. He was dusty and dirty and generally a mess. "We got the others, they's deader 'na doorknob, this is the only one left alive" "He won't be by tomorrow night" Judge Rad said stepping into the room and clearing a path as he went.
"Ach, 'ese a dirty 'ittle bastard id'nt 'e" the editor of the local rag "Pagosa Spring Tribune" said. GB just faded into the crowd so the fat bastard wouldn't see him....

[HDNB]

Wooteck and Halfbaked made into town as discreetly as possible. Being there was really only one road into and out of Pagosa, they were keeping their eyes open and wits about them. The highway passed adjacent to main street and the deuce made the corner and wooteck steered a quick left towards the Doctor's offices.
Phil suddenly popped out from behind the general store, bags in hand and jogged accross the street towards the bluff of trees that ran beside the highway. Eck and 'baked looked at each other "where the hell is he going?" Eck asked
"Beats me." said 'baked. "pull up over there, he obviously didn't see us."
The big truck shuddered to a stop and 'Baked swung down from the door, rounding the front fender he called out to Phil.
It was comical, Phil suddenly jumped one way in the woods and then dove for cover in the opposite direction, the flash of grey from of his jacket liner made him look like a doe bounding off for cover.
"Phil!" he called again, and Phil's head popped up from behind some scrub. A look of relief spread over his face as he slowly rose from his hide.
He picked up his bags and jogged his way back to the truck.
"I was just coming to find you guys." Phil puffed as he came up to the truck. "Get in!" he said to 'baked. "We gotta get the hell outta here."
Wooteck fired up the truck and steered a hard u-turn, heading back for the highway. "We heard gunshots!" Eck looked at Phil. "Where's Jed?"
"I think he's okay" Phil said. "Get us gone, i'll fill you in!"
"You think he's okay? asked 'baked

[HDNB]

Eck backed the truck up the cut line until the highway got hard to see for the trees. Halfbaked offered the bottle up "Have a shot,calm your nerves man!"
Phil had been dancing around in the small cab glancing left and right, looking over his shoulder, out the back window like the grim reaper was hot on his ass.
He took a couple of long swallows and wiped his mouth off "man thats the shit! my belly thought my throat had been cut!" Suddenly Phil stopped and looked at the bottle "wow that's a sour mash! I don't think iv'e had anything like that!"
'Baked held his hand out for the bottle and said "What the hell went on in town that got you so spooked, Phil?"
Phil was still looking at the bottle with a mix of admiration and confusion on his face when he started in on his story.
"Jed was making his deal with that distiller fellow, so i made my way over to the general store. Thought i'd load up on some groceries and beverage for the drive back to Chicago." He reached down for the bags he had been carrying and pulled a Cola out of the bag. He wiggled his index finger at 'baked and said "Gimme that bottle. I'll bet that shit will go great with some soda."
Once he had added the mixer and the bottle made a round Phil continued with his report.
"I was just coming back from the store and rounded the corner by the hotel. There was a whole standoff going in the lot. I could see that distiller fella, he was in the school bus there."
"The guys from Chi were there, Larry and Mo. Some other clown with a shotgun trying to look tough. I pulled up by a corner of the distillery 'cause i didn't want to be seen by Larry. They was all there talking when the train pulled into town. That's when shit went downhill in a hurry!"
As Phil told the tale, they had made their way around to the west side of the truck to catch the last rays of the setting sun, enjoying the heat of the engine wafting out under the fender. Suddenly the school bus wheeled in, a little too fast off the highway and bounced it's way along the cutline headlights brightening the scene just a bit.
The shadows cast by the headlight lent a sinister look to Phil's face as he braced his eyes against the glare, he said "that's the distiller fellow!"
"And Jed too!" added Eck, squinting at the bus.

[HDNB]

Jed dismounted the bus, followed closely by Stevens. "Glad to see you boys are are all safe and sound" he said as he approached the group.
'baked extended the mixer bottle , and Jed drank deeply. "pheww wwee! if Momma gave milk like that i'd never left home!" he exclaimed as he handed the bottle to Stevens.
The distiller gave it a cautious sniff and rolled the bottle in his hands looking at it like an old friend, waiting for an explaination. Wiping down the neck of the bottle he raised it to his lips and poured back a measured mouthful. "Hmm. Not bad. Sour sombitch though." and handed the bottle back with an approving nod.

"Damn near bit the big onion back there!" Jed reach for the bottle again. "We got caught out loading the bus by them crazy fuckers Larry and Mo, and some dumbfuck posing as Enrico...Like you'd get that guy out of the city!"
"I had a pretty good schtick going too, telling them this here fella was crooked, cheatin the taxman with me!" He nodded to Stevens and handed him back the bottle.
Stevens was none too impressed. He scowled deeply at Jed's lies and had pull off the mixer. It was pretty obvious to everyone he had no appreciation for being dragged unwillingly into this mess.
"They were buying my shit" he continued "Until that fucking train showed up. Hazel and her crew showed up just as we were closing escrow on this bullshit and made me for a Fed. That idiot with the shotgun open up on me like i was anatine. I got a few shots off and clipped Mo in the leg and I think I caught that witch a pretty good one. I dove in behind the bus and grabbed onto the door when Stevens here grabbed a gear and got us the fuck outta there."
"I wanna thank you again for that" Jed said as he raised the bottle up in his direction. "I don't think i'd be tellin this story if it weren't for your presence of mind."
Stevens was still completely unimpressed.
"When we pulled out of there, the Sherriff was bearing down on that lot. I think we woke him up for his afternoon nap!" Jed smiled. "Hopefully they all killed each other and we can get this load of shine back to Chicago and put the real Enrico in prison, where he belongs!"

"We ain't going anywhere yet" Stevens' snarled at the group. "You all got some good friends of mine in a whole world of danger. Ain't none of you going anywhere 'til we make this right."
An unsettling quiet fell over their little gathering.

[HDNB]

Hazel sat with her back against the wall of the small cave. The pain in her side was intense and searing, Jed's bullet had passed through her side without hitting anything important, but it felt if there was a hot fireplace poker jammed just under her left rib. She silently replayed the scene in her head, trying to figure her way out.
The local Sherriff and his posse had been easy to dupe. It was sheer luck they had happened on one of Bondurant's stills, with four of his still hands.
Her and Adams had flanked the still and the two hired hands had pushed for the rearward postion and simply waited for the posse to show, when they did, a few errant shots had the full weight of the posse coming down on them poor unarmed still hands. "stupid pricks never had a chance" she mused quietly.
While the posse took the still site by force, Hazel and her crew just simply disappeared out the back. The Sherriff and his boys had shot the shit outta them boys, and grabbed up one as a trophy to lynch back in town. The guy was a simpleton. They were going to try to force information from him, but he had none to give.
Adams walked up to her and said "Well that took care of the initial problem of the local law. But what are we going to tell Larry and Mo?
"It's not them i'm worried about." Hazel replied. "It's Jed. We are right by the mob, but if Jed gets a report back to the office, our "real" lives are over. Not that i'm too worried about that. Jed is a crack shot and he's gonna be pissed that I outed him." She looked a little sorrowed. "Damn it, I didn't even mean to. When a saw him come from behingd the bus, I was so surprised that I just blurted it out. Then that crazy prick that Larry and Mo had with them opened up with the shotgun... and...Oh, man! Jed's gonna be fucking pissed."
"So what's the plan here?" one of the hired guns Hazel had with her came up to the mouth of the cave.
"We are going to make camp here, tonite. She replied. "you fellas go get a bit of wood, we can make a small fire in here, it's getting cold already!" A small bead of sweat stood on her brow as she winced from the pain. "Any you boys got some whiskey?" she asked pressing a fold of cloth against her side.
"I gotta plan, but i'm going to have to meet Jed in the daylight. If he doesn't shoot me down, we may just get out of this alive and avoid jail."
Adams produced a small flask and handed it to Hazel as the hired hands went to gather some wood.
"We're fucked aren't we?" he asked.
"Yup." she replied and took a long pull on the whiskey.

[HDNB]

The guys finished off the mixer and headed down to Muckalee Creek to fuel up the trucks before the service station closed. Since Ledbetter's untimely demise, the fuel company that owned the lease there put a new operator in and had sunk a few dollars into sprucing the place up. Public toilets and a little bit of a store that sold quick snacks and beverage. They had even been licensed for beer off sales, and extended the hours of the station to 10PM, so the locals could get their fill of suds before bedtime.
With the trucks fuelled up, they had pulled to the far side of the lot, close to the Notell Motel and gathered to hatch a plan.
"Ok, if you and Halfbaked can make the drive back to Chicago tonite with the booze." Jed was talking to Phil, "I'll get back into town and straighten some shit out." The confidence in his voice was there, but Jed's eyes were darting back and forth and he often looked over his shoulder, like someone was watching him.
Phil and 'Baked both liked the idea of getting the hell out of Dodge. "No problem. Too many bullets whizzing around here and people showing up dead for my liking anyway." said Phil.
Looking at Eck, Jed touched the brim of his hat and said "I'd be obliged if you could stay and watch my back. You ever used a gun?"
Eck looked a bit stricken. "Shot a few birds in my day." He stammered. It pissed him off that he would really much rather being going back to Chicago, to crawl in a nice warm hotel bed with Coleen. All the while knowing she would be much happier here, wading into a fray with the bad guys, guns a blazin'.
"Mr. Stevens, you are about the only one that has the cover of anonymity. Would you consider a recon trip to hotel to get us whatever intel may be available?"

Stevens ignored Jed and looked at Wooteck. "I just brought in a Beretta 12 guage from Italy. It's the finest shotgun known to man, short and accurate, easy in the bush and comes up fast. With some #2 it'll give you a nice big pattern and knock down anything you point at for at least 150 feet." he continued "She will keep you safe. If you care for her, she's yours."
Eck extended his hand to Stevens and shook. "That's very grand of you sir. I'll take care of her like she's my own."

Settled, Phil swung up into the cab of the duece and the rest of them loaded up in the school bus for the short trip back to Pagosa. They sat in silence and watch the world pass by, as they they pondered the fate they were going to meet.

[goinbroke2]

GB's truck at the trading post in Pagosa Springs;

[ga flatwoods]

Flatwoods had been out at the hard road to check the mail box when a truck load of half drunken hooligans came byto join in the man hunt in town with the sheriff. He had heard some of the shooting but hadn't paid it any mind as it was not uncommon any more round these parts. The driver recognized Flatwoods and invited him along after filling him in before heading on into town. Flatwoods politely refused the ride. He would make the trip himself but had to get the necessities together first...(tbc)

[goinbroke2]

He pulled the chain hand over hand and finally got the inline 8 cylinder buick engine up high enough to clear the rad support. Gimme a hand to push this car back GB said to the kid. They pushed the 35 buick back out of the way and lowered the engine on the ground. He walked over to the open door of the garage, "It's out" he simply said. "After a quick look out the door the old man grumbled a bit then said "fine, go getcher winda and stuff" GB was glad he could work off the parts he needed for the truck since the cash was down to $900 or so. He still wanted to put as much on the horse race as possible since he was involved and would know who the winner was going to be.
New windshield installed, another swingarm for the clutch pedal to replace the worn and sometimes sticking original, couple other bits and pieces..he could of just paid the $10 but dang it, $10 was $10 afterall. Now to head into town and fuel up, maybe get a bath, he twisted the key and took off.

He pulled up to the pumps and got out and noticed a deuce and a half sitting at the far side of the parking lot with a bus. Lotsa guys milling around, looked like they had a load of something and with them passing a bottle around he was pretty sure he knew what. Fueled up, he paid and then casually asked the attendant "where them boys headin', you know?"
The kid kinda frowned and wrinkled up his nose, "I think they said Shee-cargo" or someplace like that. Alarms went off in GB head, "Chicago huh". "Yeah, shee cargo, I'm sure that's what they said" the attendant confirmed a little bit more sure of himself. We'll see about that GB thought to himself. He drove back to Pagosa Springs hotel and looked for Enrico in the bar, not finding him he ran up to their old room which was empty. "Damn!" GB said out loud, "where the heck did they go". He ran back to the truck and getting in he looked across the street to see Enrico and Larry loading stuff in a Packard. He jumped out and ran over "hey, do you know about another load of shine going to Chicago?" he whispered to Enrico. Enrico looked around "what are you talking about, I'm the only one hauling shine to Chicago!" "I think you boys better go check out the old deuce and the bus at the gas station in Muckalee Creek then, I'm sure I saw a load in the back of the deuce half covered with tarps. That could be your competition." Enrico patted his shotgun hanging under his overcoat "not for much longer".

GB was concerned because somebody else was hauling likker out of the area which meant competition, which meant his profit margin might drop off a bit. He thought maybe if Enrico and his boys had it out, he would side with the winner.
He had a couple quick things to do then he slowly drove back towards Muckalee Creek, didn't want to show up before the shooting was done. He passed the gas station and all was quiet, nothing around but a black 53 chev sitting with the hood up at the pumps. He drove on by, heading out of Muckalee Creek on the only road that would head to Chicago. About 15 miles up the road he was about to turn around when he saw the car, or what was left of it. It was the same teal coloured 53 Packard Clipper that Enrico was loading before, only it looked like a jigsaw puzzle with a whole bunch of pieces missing. He left the headlights on it and jumped out of the truck. What was left of Larry was behind the wheel, full of holes and pushed half way across the car by the door which was rammed in. Moe was in the back in a pool of blood, body wedged between the back of the front seat and the front of the rear seat which was basically squished together due to the bumper being where the back window used to be. The right door was gone and there was drag marks and blood heading to the right side of the road. GB followed it and stepping over the blood smeared guardrail almost fell. The ground was gone, he looked in the dark and once his eyes were accustomed, seen that the guardrail was on the edge of a cliff. He drove the truck over and shone the lights at that spot, jumping out again he could see the earth torn away as if somebody was clawing it....GB realised that Enrico made a run for it, jumped over the guardrail and plunged to his death. "HAHAHA, you stupid fuck, serves ya right" GB laughed. He jumped in the truck and nosed up against the rear of the packard. It was a heavy car and was dragging the frame but the truck got it moving. It was only about 50ft to the end of the rail where the road straightened back up and by that time GB had it rolling along at 30mph or better. Jamming on the brakes he watched the rear of the car dissapear over the side of the cliff. He casually turned around and headed for Pagosa Springs, steering clear of the mess on the road as he passed the spot where their luck ran out. A car against a bus and a deuce and a half...HAHAHA GB laughed to himself, what a stupid fuck. Well, now he was going to have to find out himself who they were and what they were paying for likker, did they want more, etc, etc...all the way to the hotel he was thinking of ways to get back in the game, after all, an old man and his family was counting on him too.

[S-Cackalacky]

Sometimes when God yanks a person from the reality of the normal world, they come to experience a truer sense of the world. It's like they begin to think and act from the soul instead of their own self and ego.

It was dusk and Jimbo and Bubba stood out on the loading dock behind the BBQ and Sudz stokin' the pit for tomorrow's BBQ smokin'. A thunderous sound of beating hooves began to rise from down the road. Their attention perked up and they squinted their eyes to look down the road to get a first glimpse of what might be comin' – sounded like the four horsemen of the apocalypse bearing down on them. They soon caught sight of a horse and rider headed toward them at full gallop – the rider's right arm flailing about in the air. It was something surreal and unexpected. Bubba mumbled, “That boy's stuck on that horse like a tick on a dog's back.”. In a cloud of dust that obscured any identity, the rider brought the horse into the dirt driveway behind the restaurant. From full gallop the horse sank to its haunches, front legs stretched out ahead of it as it slid to a stop just feet from the loading dock. The rider nonchalantly hopped from the bear back of the horse and took a few running steps before stopping himself.

“Hey Mr. Jimbo”, the rider said in a familiar voice. Jimbo and Bubba stood dumbfounded with their mouths agape. “This here's Strider. He's near's fun to ride as my modersicle.”. Jimbo finally composed himself and asked, “Pogo, where the hell did you get that horse?”. “He belongs to my Uncle Jesse. I take care of him and Uncle Jesse lets me ride him. He paid my entry money for Mr. Butch's big race. Me and Strider's gonna ride in a race and go real fast.”. Strider winneyed loudly and shook his head up and down as if in confirmation. “Mr. Jimbo, can I have some barbeecoo?”. Jimbo responded with lighthearted sarcasm, “I suppose Strider there will be wanting some too?”. Pogo answered with gleeful admonishment, “No Mr. Jimbo, you know horses don't eat no barbeecoo. He likes sweet feed though.”. Bubba grunted as he made his way toward the door, “I'll get him some oats and barley from the brew room.”.

“So Pogo, what kind of horse is that?” “He's a paint Mr. Jimbo. Ain't he purdy.” Strider gave a glance toward Pogo and rubbed his muzzle on Pogo's shoulder in a familiar way. “He got a medicine hat. You know that a special thang – havin' a medicine hat. He smart too. Strider say howdy to Mr. Jimbo.” Strider knealed and bowed his head. “That's amazing Pogo. Where'd you learn to ride like that?” “Oh, I dunno. I guess it's kinda like ridin' my modersicle and Strider likes to run. He ran all the way from Uncle Jesse's to here.” “But Pogo, Jesse's house is near three miles from here and that horse ain't even hardly winded.”

By that time Bubba had come out the back door with a plate of BBQ in one hand and a bucket of grain in the other. He had caught the end of the conversation and cut his eyes toward Jimbo. Jimbo's and Bubba's eyes locked in an understanding kind of way. Pogo took the plate and bucket, set the bucket down in front of Strider and sat himself on the edge of the loading dock. Both ate voraciously. Bubba pulled a long neck from his front pocket and handed it down to Pogo. Pogo glanced up at Bubba in an appreciative way and went back to his food.

When finished, Pogo hopped down from the loading dock, walked over to Strider, grabbed a handful of mane and in one graceful motion – swung himself onto Strider's back. He looked over at the two men standing on the loading dock and said, “Mr. Jimbo, I sho like yo barbeecoo. Thank you Mr. Bubba.”. Strider turned without being prompted and took off from a dead standstill into a full gallop. Bubba mumbled in a low tone, “Know who my money's on.”. Jimbo responded, “Yep.”.

[ga flatwoods]

Having been gone out so long just darriving home a few days ago, Ms. Flatwoods was none to thrilled when Flats came back from the hard road and started gathering a few necessities. He explained what had just happened and the need to go. She both loved and hated that part of the man she callled husband. Why is it he had to be the one to take up the cause , no matter what it was, if he felt injustice was being done or his beliefs about his cou try or way of life was being challenged. She had learned many years ago that it wss better to wish him luck than to be a hindrance. She now planted a kiss squarely upon him and a wish for a quick return. With that, Flatwoods headed to the barn and was gone within an hour of the visit to the hard top.
By this time, the posse was well ahead of him having left town even before his invitation by the mail box. The question kept running through his mid as to where someone would run to leaving town on foot or by horse. The more he thought about it the more he kept thinking about those two young ladies in the Skodies. For certain some now knew very well how to get back there , including Tater, Janitor, and Wushu. Tater and Wushu really didnt concern him, but thst Janitor fellow seemed to come about looking for an enemy. Flatwoods had openly given him one! Having learnt long ago to listen to his little voice, Flatwoods would not take the beaten path to town but chose instead to take a rather direct route thst would put him in places he hadnt seen in quite some time.
It did not take long to reach the bottomlands of the Muckalee. This was a place he knew well. He daddy had took him there when he was just a kid , taught him to hunt squirrels and rabbits. It was a place of mean wild pigs, big copperhead snakes, and alligators in the holes waitin for ya. They had a camp down there and old john boat tied to a tree. He would go down there when he got a wild hair and drink to a sweet swamp song while sitting on an old tractor tire next to a big old fire. He and his dad would fish bush hooks and trot lines for the big catfish that lived deep in the creek. This small creek, a river to Flatwoods, coursed through his veins, it was where he came from, it was part of him. It felt good to be back, been gone too long worried with the ways of the world he thought as he rode along. Flatwoods was deep into these thoughts when he heard the shots from down the river. Amazing how far sound travels in the river bottoms. No it was not from a hunt nor from one gun. This had been a shoot out with both short and long guns being used. At best count there was around thirty rounds sporadically fired. This must have been the possee from town. From the sounds and direction, he was almost certain that he knew where the battle had been fought and Flatwoods had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Without nudging him, the horse picked up pace as if knowing that is where they had to go. One thing about the bottom though is that you can ultimately get somwhere faster than going around but one does not move along its banks in haste. It took Flatwoods a while to arrive at the location he had thought to be the center of all the shooting.
Itwas one of his old still sites that Flatwoods had rode up upon. "Damn the luck to hell!" he thought as he cast his eyes across the scene. Laying dead were three men and a still operation still smoking in shambles. The raid party was long gone so Flatwoods tied the horse up outside of the camp and carefully made his way in reading the tale tell signs of whst had happened to cost these men their lives. Seems they had been working the still for a while now and were drawing off the renderings when the shit hit the fan. They had been caught off guard not suspecting to have ever had anyone come up on them. No defense or detection mechanisms had been set. They had gotten complacent and overly comfortable, something you never do in the woods while working. The grou d had been stomped to hell and back by the inevitable winners of the shootout, or massacre as it now appeared to be. However, one set of tracks stood out from the others. It was more petite and cut differently from the field boots and brogans worn by most of the others. This one in particular was a store bought shoe worn by a woman. A woman with a limp as determined by the imprints into the soft soils. Seems the poor workers never had a chance. They had been shot from multiple directions both in the front and back! A despicable act. Flatwoods rolled the first one over, the second, and finally, the third. He was sickened and saddened and angered all at the same instance. These were Bondurant men two of which he still had money in his pocket from playing poker with. Odd thing is they didnt typically carry weapons around their still sites as they made mostly for family and occasionally for sale. Flatwoods mind went back to "the bitch". Who was she and what had she been doing out here? He looked back arou d with a kore discerning effort for her tracks. Indeed she was there for no good as he found evidence of her and two other leaving the camp from a different direction than both the coming in and exiting of the other shooters. The Skodies would have to wait for now. TheY could take care of theirselves if need be. These Bondurant boys were yelling at Flatwoods from the other side to "Go find that bitch Flatwoods and send her to hell!" It was drawing dark now and the tracking would have to wait till morning. Flatwoods restoked the smoldering fire from the boiler with the accumulated and neatly stacked wood and broke out his shine.

[goinbroke2]

He rolled into town to see a crowd around the jailhouse. "What a freaking place..what's goin on now" GB muttered. He parked away from the crowd and wandered over to see what was going on.
"ol blew eye ain't never hurt nobody ever, hell he caint even shoot a gun." Another chimed in "ya gots the wrong feller there sheriff" The crowd seemed pretty agitated and all seemed to be claiming innocents on this "blew eye" guy. GB in his normal shit disturbing way decided to wind up the crowd a bit, "let him go or we're gonna take him sheriff" he yelled to the approval of the crowd. He moved through the crowd and told of how a cow mashed Blew eye's hand just the other day so he couldn't even pick up a rifle if he wanted too. "Get them outsiders, stop blaming us townfolk" he yelled and the crowd got louder and started yelling threats of their own. Moving to the far side out of the light he yelled "they can't stop us if we want to take him" Now he was being drowned out by the yelling and screaming, the crowd was in a frenzy, everybody holding rifles over their head." If you shoot at us we'll shoot right back sheriff" was the one that put them all over the top, rifles being cocked and guys yelling "come on" GB pulled his 45 and fired two quick shots by the jailhouse. "They're shooting at us" GB yelled, then "ahh he got me in the arm, the sheriff shot my arm. Suddenly the roar started as 30 or more rifles, pistols, even a musket was unloaded on the jailhouse. As it was brick, there was richochet's and bits of cement flying every which way. For a good 10-15 seconds the thunderous roar went on, chipping away at the building, knocking shutters clean off, blasting windows. Finally the gun fire slowed and then stopped. It was over and GB moved back around to the other side of the crowd. "Somebody aught to tell the sheriff to let him go" he said. "Yeah, how about it Sheriff, you gonna let ol blew eyes go or not.
"The judge'll see him in the morning you sons a bitches, now go the hell away before I start arresting people. The crowd seemed unsure what to do at that point, then the sheriff added "and I better have some help in the morning cleaning this mess up too!" There was almost a silence and then one person said "9 o' clock sheriff?" "MAKE IT EIGHT!" the sheriff bellowed back. That settled, the crowd started to disperse talking amongst themselves. Interesting crowd dynamic's GB thought, easier swayed than I thought..GB thought he'd keep that in the back of his mind for his next plan when it was required that the crowd act as he wanted.

He pulled off his boots as he sat on the bed, after a minute he got up and opened the door quietly, walked down the hall and tried the door to Enrico's. It was open so he went in and locked it behind him then started going through anything that was left there. He found several letters addressed to a "Carl" whoever that was, maybe that was Turds real name? He found a small stash of cash, hmm, not so small, $236. They won't need that now he thought to himself. A shotgun, some ammo, a bunch of personal crap. When he was done he carried everything to the door and listened. It was all quiet so he peeked out, nobody there he quickly carried his stash to his room. In his room he pulled out a knife and carved into the butt where "carl" was. He counted his cash, $1107.50.
Alright, time for bed he thought so he pushed the bureau up against the window, blocking it and slid his bed in front of the door. Maybe now he could get a good sleep....

[goinbroke2]

>>>I like to go back and reread some stuff just to get a better feel for it before I write, and because it's a damn good tale. I reread the very first line "The ravine cut under the CN railway tracks a couple mile out of town. It was the perfect setup on Crown land that the government held title to so if the revenuers ever did stumble onto the site they could lose the equipment but there was no way for the Feds to take the farm." and i thought to myself..CN tracks and Crown land is obviously Canada..how did these 'muricans take over so quickly? Time and space truly does blend in this yarn. <<<<


Anyhoo...on with the story...

[HDNB]

took a bit for it to hit it's stride, but it has been getting fun (ner)!

hard to get moosejaw, pagosa springs, muckalee creek and chicago all within reach of a post war automobile. damn near had to get a DeLorean.

it's nice to see SC back in there, we gotta coax a few more out of retirement (redrim) TB, hows them cows doin? Corene?

a new takers?

[S-Cackalacky]

took a bit for it to hit it's stride, but it has been getting fun (ner)!

hard to get moosejaw, pagosa springs, muckalee creek and chicago all within reach of a post war automobile. damn near had to get a DeLorean.

it's nice to see SC back in there, we gotta coax a few more out of retirement (redrim) TB, hows them cows doin? Corene?

a new takers?

I'm not terribly prolific and it don't usually come easy. I just like to jump in and add a little local color once in awhile. I'm just kind of marking time until TB can come in and expand on the horse race. I think he's got a lot working for him in a good direction - especially now that Flatwoods stumbled onto that massacre at the still site. I'm sure the Banderants(sp?) will have a score to settle with them dirty feds. I'm sure TB's probably got his hands full with all the sub-freezing temps and snow we been having in these parts, but if he ain't back soon, GB gonna have the whole town kilt off.

Corene and Sarah still sittin' out there in that cabin. I'm sure Corene must have some tales to tell by now .

I do believe that there's a little trepidation about wrapping the whole thing up. no one wants to be the one to drop the ax. This thing could eventually dwarf the Holy Bible in size and scope.

[corene1]

Yes sir Sarah and I are just hanging out at the cabin ,this story has turned in so many directions I am dizzy trying to figure it out. Some say Enrico is dead others say he is in Chicago people are shooting everyone that walks crawls or wiggles and that Hazel woman is loose in the hills planning on killing everyone too. Jed has turned from good guy to bad guy to good guy about a dozen times and the search for the funny money and it's origin and the link it has from the feds to the mob has all but been left out. Think the two of us will hang tight, after all I still have my .270 Ackley Improved sitting with me plus I am deadly with a bow and no one will hear it.

[goinbroke2]

>>>Enrico is back in Chicago as he never would leave the city. GB on the other hand don't know that and has been calling this feller who identified himself as Enrico, Enrico. He starting to figure it out though as the room had nothing in it with Enrico's name on it, but had the shotgun the guy was carrying with "carl" carved into the butt.
Takes him a bit but GB will figure it out..and just wait until GB tries to spend that money he found in the room <<<

[goinbroke2]

There was quite the crowd around the jailhouse and it was only 7:45. GB watched the crowd from the front seat of his truck which was parked a ways back from the Pagosa Hotel;


They were all locals by the look of it, nobody stood out. He glanced up and looked around the roofs and upper windows of the buildings catching a glimps of the odd person here and there watching. No weapons he thought, that's a good sign. At 7:50 a 52 Mercury rolled up to the jailhouse and the crowd parted for it. John Bondurant stepped out of the passenger side, GB couldn't see who was driving but they both went up to the jailhouse door and knocked. The crowd had became quiet, the door opened and they stepped in. It was still quiet at 8:15 when the door opened again and three Bondurants stepped out. Cheers went up all around until the sheriff stepped out behind them at which point the crowd went silent again, looking at the ground.
That's an interesting twist thought GB, so who was that guy I wonder. As the Mercury backed out and pulled away GB started the truck and started to follow. The Murcury kept going but GB turned off on snowball road, if you could call it a road. Time to check up on Mr Morrison and see how he's making out with the new still site he thought. He shuddered at the upcoming verbal barrage he was about to encounter if Mrs Morrison was anywhere handy.

[goinbroke2]

Clay Morrison wiped out a cup and filled it with shine, passed it to GB then did the same for himself. They were sitting on the back porch overlooking the meadow, watching the hoses grazing. "Quite the shootout in Pagosa" GB started "yep, heard all about it, some bad men movin in around here, wasn't that long ago a squirrel didn't fart less he get throwd in jail for a fortnight. That was back when the commodore was sheriff, he was a tough man." GB looked over "have any dealings with him yourself?" Clay just smiled back, "should say i did! He was my father in law" then let out a chuckle "Hey MA, come tell this young'n about your Pa" Well that will tear it GB thought, so much for talking now. The misses came out and told the story of the time the old Commodore arrested Cooper who was warring with some other clan around Pagosa. She came out, took a long pull off the jug then lit right in with eyes flashing;


Commodore Perry Owens both looked and acted the part. "He wore a fringed buckskin jacket, silver-studded leather chaps, and a wide brimmed felt hat" as well as long flowing hair. He was always wearing either a long barreled revolver or a pair of shorter barreled six-shooters. Know to lethal with either hand. His early career is certainly notable and can be looked into but we want to focus on one incident that to my mind demonstrates EXACTLY what kind of a lawman daddy was. It occurred on September 4, 1887 at shortly after 4pm.

At this time, the Pleasant Valley war was in progress. It involved the Grahams and Tewksbury families and allies. Charlie Blevins and Andy Cooper allied with the Graham family. These brothers are the key players in this story; along with the other cattle rustling Blevins men. Both were no good. They were well established rustlers and Cooper was suspected of murdering three Navajo Indians.

On November 4, 1886 Commodore Perry Owens won the sheriff's race by a count of 500 to 409 over J. Hubbell. "Owens moved into the Barth Hotel in Pagosa Springs and started as Apache County sheriff in January 1887."

I know of no better way to begin this than with a quote from one of Owens' deputies. ""Commodore Owens had a great reputation as a brave man and many wonderful things were promised and expected after he was in the sheriff's office. Lawlessness was everywhere."

Owens had tried to remain neutral in the "war". However, he had a warrant for the arrest of Andy Cooper for rustling. He had had this for some length of time but had claimed that he had not seen him. However, three things drew his focus finer. Andy Cooper had been bragging about the killing of John Tewksbury and William Jacobs, He had been given an ultimatum by the county board of commissioners, and he had been given an exact location for Cooper, namely at his mother's home with the entire Blevins crew. I doubt that Cooper boasting that no sheriff was stupid enough to arrest him went unnoticed, also. Make no mistake! These were not simple bad guys, these were true hard cases that did not shy away from killing.

Into this rode our wide brimmed hat wearing, buckskin fringed jacket and silver-studded chaps clad, six-gun toting, Winchester armed sheriff. Alone. He 'parked' his horse at Brown and Kinder's Livery Stable and walked resolutely down the street the clapboard shack of Mother Blevins. Must have been a sight to see! A solitary figure striding down the street in Holbrook- home of the "Bucket of Blood" saloon. Here is what Commodore Perry Owens (daddy) claims took place, I remember it word for word as daddy spoke it;


. . . I went and got my Winchester and went down to arrest Cooper. Before I got there, I saw someone looking out at the door. When I got close to the house, they shut the door. I stepped up on the porch, looked through the window and also looked in the room to my left. I seen Cooper and his brother (John) and others in that room. I called to Cooper to come out. Cooper took out his pistol and also his brother took out his pistol. Then Cooper went from that room into the east room. His brother came to the door on my left, took the door knob in his hand and held the door open a little. Cooper came to the door facing me from the east room. Cooper held this door partly open with his head out. I says, "Cooper I want you." Cooper says, "What do you want with me?" I says, "I have a warrant for you." Cooper says, "What warrant?" I told him the same warrant that I spoke to him about some time ago that I left in Taylor, for horse stealing. Cooper says, "Wait." I says, "Cooper, no wait." Cooper says, "I won't go." I shot him. This brother of his to my left behind me jerked open the door and shot at me, missing me and shot the horse which was standing aside and a little behind me. I whirled my gun and shot at him, and then ran out in the street where I could see all parts of the house. I could see Cooper through the window on his elbow with his head towards the window. He disappeared to the right of the window. I fired through the house expecting to hit him between the shoulders. I stopped a few moments. Some man (Mose Roberts) jumped out of the house on the northeast corner out of a door or window, I can't say, with a six shooter in his right hand and his hat off. There was a wagon or buckboard between he and I. I jumped to one side of the wagon and fired at him. Did not see him any more. I stood there a few moments when there was a boy (Sam Houston Blevins) jumped out of the front of the house with a six shooter in his hands. I shot him. I stayed a few moments longer. I see no other man so I left the house. When passing by the house I see no one but somebody's feet and legs sticking out the door. I then left and came on up town.


GB saw a whole 'nuther side of her....

[HDNB]

Eck watched Halfbaked and Phil driving away. He sorrowly wished he was going with them, back to the city and closer to Coleen. He closed his eyes and imagined the curve of her back silouetted by the ensuite light in the hotel room they had shared. The vision gave way to her turning, her firm breasts puckered from the coolness in the room. As she spoke to him he could smell her scent, rose water and hot pheromone mixed so sensually that it aroused him, here in the street of Pagosa.
"Eck."
"Eck!"
"Eck are you coming?" asked Jed, impatiently. He and Stevens had walked several paces engaged in conversation of the current events while Eck had been enjoying his daydream. Blushing deeply he automatically dropped the shotgun Stevens had granted him into both hands, slung low, so the stock crossed his hips. Pointing away the muzzel away from his hunting party Eck advanced on the two and cheerfully stated "S'a braw bricht moonlicht nicht the nicht"
"I could go in for a wee kip. ye better feed me some likker quick, or i'll be nae good fer nuthin'"
"we'll throw a couple of pallets out in the warehouse for you two. I'm not fighting with either one of you tonite. You both look like you are ready to fall down." said Stevens. He made a few more paces down the street and fitted a key into the gate on the distillery's east side.

Inside the warehouse Stevens found a little personal stash and handed a bottle to Jed saying " I'll grab some moving blankets, if you want to pull down some of those pallets." and pointed towards the big door at the rear.
Jed had a pull off the bottle and handed it off to Eck. "Thats damn fine whiskey" he call out to Stevens. "Sweet goodness and just a hint of smoke." he looked to Eck, who nodded approvingly and had another hit on the bottle.
With the racks laid out, Stevens made for the door. "I'll make a quick stop at the bar and see if there is anything to learn, but i've got the missus to get home to. If you fellas can lay low until tomorrow, and try not to burn the place down...I'd appreciate it."
Eck saluted him with the bottle and said "I got everything i need here." looking at the whiskey bottle and patting the Beretta, Eck sat down hard and said "We'll be fine."
Stevens closed the door and strode across the empty lot towards the hotel, rubbing his neck as he walked.