Boot Hill: Pima County

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Dumarest

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Tybalt responds to the question, a hint of weariness entering his voice as the threat of immediate danger diminishes "Bandito? perhaps more like a local quarrelsome hotshot picking a fight with a real gunfighter". Tybalt moves the body to the most secluded corner of the small office. "But I only saw the tail end, the actual duel, Corbin If you would be so kind as to tell how all this sorrowful business came to pass?"
"He was egged on by an idiot and I happened to get lucky. Nothing to celebrate"

Corbin slumps down in the corner next to Bart's body with his head down.
Tybalt lets out a heavy sigh, "Yeah, figured it was something stupid like that, well at least you weren't the one egging on for a duel". Tybalt puts a hand on Corbin shoulder "You defended yourself in and fair duel". "Now does this second idiot got a name? because I already know Pa Sommers is going to be burr in our saddle and I'd like to keep track of all our ill wishers".
"Thanks Mr. Crenshaw" Corbin says as the hand is placed on his shoulder.

"His name was Bart, worked up at Big Jim's. You might have met him at the mess hall. I loudmouth for sure and probably would have ended up in a situation like this at some point anyway, but still...." he trails off.
"Bart eh, we'll I keep an idea out for loudmouths and you try to keep one eye ahead and behind you when you're in town. Loudmouths have a way of getting the drop on you when your not watching". Tybalt then slouches down on to the floor on the other side of the the deceased and lowers his hat over his face and begins to doze off for the night.
"Next time, señor, you bring us with you and you no have to worry," says Carlos Jiménez de Zamora, gesturing to his cousins and then quickly drawing a finger across his throat while smiling gleefully. "We kill him for you so you no have to feel bad for to kill a man."

Octavio Jiménez de Texada and Pablo Jiménez de Cisneros silently nod their agreement, their faces stern and determined.

"Some folks just need killin'," comments Aaron Armbruster.

"Better him 'n you," adds Abel Armbruster.

The five gather up their hats, shirts, and playing cards and settle into various corners of the town marshal's office.

"Don't it feel kinda strange we're the law in this town now?" says Abel to no one in particular.

Shall I fast forward to morning or did you want to converse more? Either way works.
 

AsenRG

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"But we were telling you no!", Juan exclaims.
Then he shrugs and resigns himself to his fate, putting his guns on the nightstand, and the rifle in the corner nearby.
 

Baeraad

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"I wonder if Hell is as bad as they say..." Lars mumbles morosely as he sets his modest belongings in order.
 

Shemek hiTankolel

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"If you don't mind a little local color, I suggest we mosey over to the Grand Palace. For one thing, not much else is open unless you want Mex food; for another they got them a Negro chef who learned his trade in Paris, if you can believe that. I expect your deputies will be hankering after some chuck after your long ride, so feel free to invite them if you like."
"That sounds fine Sheriff. France sure is a different world. We stopped there on our way to The..." MacRegan trails off in thought for a moment thinking of the friends he lost in that far off war before quickly recovering and continuing on his train of thought. "Lead on Mr Ott, I could probably eat a whole Steer by myself."
 

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"Next time, señor, you bring us with you and you no have to worry," says Carlos Jiménez de Zamora, gesturing to his cousins and then quickly drawing a finger across his throat while smiling gleefully. "We kill him for you so you no have to feel bad for to kill a man."

Octavio Jiménez de Texada and Pablo Jiménez de Cisneros silently nod their agreement, their faces stern and determined.

"Some folks just need killin'," comments Aaron Armbruster.

"Better him 'n you," adds Abel Armbruster.

The five gather up their hats, shirts, and playing cards and settle into various corners of the town marshal's office.

"Don't it feel kinda strange we're the law in this town now?" says Abel to no one in particular.

Shall I fast forward to morning or did you want to converse more? Either way works.

ooc: I'm cool with the skipping to morning but if anyone wants have their say please go ahead.
 

AsenRG

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"Hell? You think it safe to mention the devil in this specific establishment?"
 

Baeraad

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Lars groans and leans his head into his hands. His mother always warned him he'd come to a bad end...
 

Dumarest

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"That sounds fine Sheriff. France sure is a different world. We stopped there on our way to The..." MacRegan trails off in thought for a moment thinking of the friends he lost in that far off war before quickly recovering and continuing on his train of thought. "Lead on Mr Ott, I could probably eat a whole Steer by myself."
Sheriff Ott straightens some items on his desk, locks the office door behind him, and leads you across dusty Congress Street, still somewhat busy into the evening, up onto the boardwalk on the other side and through the wide, iron-clamped oaken door of the Grand Palace Hotel.
View attachment 19025
Picture this but at night with only a few oil lamps on the street

Inside is a large dining area before an equally large bar. Among the tables you see numerous card and dice games being played: Three-Card Monte, Chuck-A-Luck, High Dice, even a Faro bank.

Raucous laughter can be heard over the voluble chatter; you can barely hear the tinkle of a piano near the stairs that lead up to rooms for rent. Beer, wine, and whiskey flow freely all around you. Of even greater interest is the sheer number of women present: the ratio in the Grand Palace Hotel seems to be about one woman for every five men, far more than you're used to out there in the Territory. Some are serving girls, some seem to be patrons, and a few you suspect could be painted ladies judging from their frilly attire meant to display their wares and the way they hover near and on the stairs. All in all, it seems a hedonist's paradise--if the hedonist is flush with cash.

You see in one corner Eustace Coltrane, the young boy from the wagon you helped earlier, earning his keep busing a table. Near the staircase you see a very attractive woman half-watching the entire scene, her focus primarily on the entryway but still keenly aware of what goes on in the periphery. From her stance and poise, you assume she either runs the place or has some role in management of it.

"You may see some things going on here that may appear to be of questionable legality," remarks Sheriff Ott, "but we have an arrangement that keeps the peace in Tucson." Stretching his neck to see over the crowd, he adds, "I don't see them boys of yours nowhere. Could be they got themselves a room upstairs."
"I wonder if Hell is as bad as they say..." Lars mumbles morosely as he sets his modest belongings in order.
"Hell? You think it safe to mention the devil in this specific establishment?"
Lars groans and leans his head into his hands. His mother always warned him he'd come to a bad end...
About ten minutes have passed since you inspected your rooms. Is there anything you want to do in them, or would you like to go downstairs, or something else?
 

AsenRG

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"Hey, it's not a big deal. Think about it, we're among people who feel they kinda owe us a little, here. The pare always said that love and friendship repel the devil. Let's just let the door between the rooms open to make sure that we can repel any surprises,OK?", Juan said, cursing himself for scaring the gringo.
 

Baeraad

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Hmm, Lars' main interest is loafing about, so he's not in a hurry to do stuff, but he'd rather not stay in this den of sin either... so I think he'll take a walk around town and see if there's a nice hay loft he can take a nap in or something.
 

AsenRG

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IC: Seeing Lars leaving in fear of his soul reminds Juan that he should look for a Catholic church. He'd killed a man recently, and as much as he was arguably un perro bandido, he still feels it'd be better to confess and ask forgiveness.
 

Dumarest

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The Tucson bunch is pending Shemek hiTankolel Shemek hiTankolel telling us what MacRegan does and/or says.

Meanwhile in Saguaro...
You awaken to the sound of a rooster crowing not far off and the blinding not sun shining through the east-facing windows of the marshal's office. The Armbruster brothers snore loudly in one corner, while Señors
Jiménez de Zamora, Jiménez de Texada, and Jiménez de Cisneros rouse themselves and beat the dust off their sombreros.

"So...who we kill today?" asks Carlos Jiménez de Zamora as he squints into the sunlight and straps on his gun belt.
 

Shemek hiTankolel

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Sheriff Ott straightens some items on his desk, locks the office door behind him, and leads you across dusty Congress Street, still somewhat busy into the evening, up onto the boardwalk on the other side and through the wide, iron-clamped oaken door of the Grand Palace Hotel.
View attachment 19025
Picture this but at night with only a few oil lamps on the street

Inside is a large dining area before an equally large bar. Among the tables you see numerous card and dice games being played: Three-Card Monte, Chuck-A-Luck, High Dice, even a Faro bank.

Raucous laughter can be heard over the voluble chatter; you can barely hear the tinkle of a piano near the stairs that lead up to rooms for rent. Beer, wine, and whiskey flow freely all around you. Of even greater interest is the sheer number of women present: the ratio in the Grand Palace Hotel seems to be about one woman for every five men, far more than you're used to out there in the Territory. Some are serving girls, some seem to be patrons, and a few you suspect could be painted ladies judging from their frilly attire meant to display their wares and the way they hover near and on the stairs. All in all, it seems a hedonist's paradise--if the hedonist is flush with cash.

You see in one corner Eustace Coltrane, the young boy from the wagon you helped earlier, earning his keep busing a table. Near the staircase you see a very attractive woman half-watching the entire scene, her focus primarily on the entryway but still keenly aware of what goes on in the periphery. From her stance and poise, you assume she either runs the place or has some role in management of it.

"You may see some things going on here that may appear to be of questionable legality," remarks Sheriff Ott, "but we have an arrangement that keeps the peace in Tucson." Stretching his neck to see over the crowd, he adds, "I don't see them boys of yours nowhere. Could be they got themselves a room upstairs."
About ten minutes have passed since you inspected your rooms. Is there anything you want to do in them, or would you like to go downstairs, or something else?
OOC: I'll reply to this tonight after work.
 

Shemek hiTankolel

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Sheriff Ott straightens some items on his desk, locks the office door behind him, and leads you across dusty Congress Street, still somewhat busy into the evening, up onto the boardwalk on the other side and through the wide, iron-clamped oaken door of the Grand Palace Hotel.
View attachment 19025
Picture this but at night with only a few oil lamps on the street

Inside is a large dining area before an equally large bar. Among the tables you see numerous card and dice games being played: Three-Card Monte, Chuck-A-Luck, High Dice, even a Faro bank.

Raucous laughter can be heard over the voluble chatter; you can barely hear the tinkle of a piano near the stairs that lead up to rooms for rent. Beer, wine, and whiskey flow freely all around you. Of even greater interest is the sheer number of women present: the ratio in the Grand Palace Hotel seems to be about one woman for every five men, far more than you're used to out there in the Territory. Some are serving girls, some seem to be patrons, and a few you suspect could be painted ladies judging from their frilly attire meant to display their wares and the way they hover near and on the stairs. All in all, it seems a hedonist's paradise--if the hedonist is flush with cash.

You see in one corner Eustace Coltrane, the young boy from the wagon you helped earlier, earning his keep busing a table. Near the staircase you see a very attractive woman half-watching the entire scene, her focus primarily on the entryway but still keenly aware of what goes on in the periphery. From her stance and poise, you assume she either runs the place or has some role in management of it.

"You may see some things going on here that may appear to be of questionable legality," remarks Sheriff Ott, "but we have an arrangement that keeps the peace in Tucson." Stretching his neck to see over the crowd, he adds, "I don't see them boys of yours nowhere. Could be they got themselves a room upstairs."
About ten minutes have passed since you inspected your rooms. Is there anything you want to do in them, or would you like to go downstairs, or something else?
MacRegan stops at the door and scans the whole room looking for Lars and Juan, and at some of the faces in at the bar and gambling tables. Taking a final drag on his cigar, he tosses it into the street before fully entering the room. "A good law man knows when to look the other way, and when not to. It's no different where I come from Sheriff. I'm a guest in your town, and it's not my place to judge something I know nothing about. Now where's the chow, and where the hell have my deputies got to?"
 

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The Tucson bunch is pending Shemek hiTankolel Shemek hiTankolel telling us what MacRegan does and/or says.

Meanwhile in Saguaro...
"So...who we kill today?" asks Carlos Jiménez de Zamora as he squints into the sunlight and straps on his gun belt.

OOC: I thought we could try some random encounters for today but please If you have a different idea or something please feel free to say something.

IC:Tybalt responds
"Now, now Carlos we have been given a great task to keep our Saguaro safe, we are no mere common brigands wielding violence to further our own ends" Tybalt says in a gruff but confident voice (surprising for so early in the morning). "I will write a note for the sheriff of our doings for last night and then we will bury the body with the others. After which we should ride out in to the country side and patrol for outlaws" Tybalt says as he looks for a both a pen and a shovel.
 

AsenRG

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Juan went looking for a proper church, whistling a merry tune to hide his heavy heart at not having confessed his sin...
 

Dumarest

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Hmm, Lars' main interest is loafing about, so he's not in a hurry to do stuff, but he'd rather not stay in this den of sin either... so I think he'll take a walk around town and see if there's a nice hay loft he can take a nap in or something.
IC: Seeing Lars leaving in fear of his soul reminds Juan that he should look for a Catholic church. He'd killed a man recently, and as much as he was arguably un perro bandido, he still feels it'd be better to confess and ask forgiveness.
Juan went looking for a proper church, whistling a merry tune to hide his heavy heart at not having confessed his sin...
When Lars and Juan exit their room, they nearly collide with a pair of painted ladies still partially disrobed and arranging their clothing as they head downstairs. "You gotta pay to touch, pard," remarks the older of the two, which makes the younger one laugh even as she looks into a small hand mirror and applies kohl to her eyes. As you follow them downstairs, you see near the entrance of the hotel your erstwhile companion MacRegan standing with Sheriff Ott.
MacRegan stops at the door and scans the whole room looking for Lars and Juan, and at some of the faces in at the bar and gambling tables. Taking a final drag on his cigar, he tosses it into the street before fully entering the room. "A good law man knows when to look the other way, and when not to. It's no different where I come from Sheriff. I'm a guest in your town, and it's not my place to judge something I know nothing about. Now where's the chow, and where the hell have my deputies got to?"
"There's a less boisterous dining area through that door," Sheriff Ott replies as he points through the crowd of gamblers and drinkers to a connecting door off to the left of the large main room. "The more prominent businessmen prefer less commission while they dine and the proprietor has accommodated them."

As MacRegan scans the room, Lars and Juan appear almost on cue under very suspect circumstances as the two younger men trail behind a pair of painted ladies down the staircase on the opposite side of the room. MacRegan can't help but notice the women appear to be mussed and still in the midst of getting dressed.
 
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Dumarest

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IC:Tybalt responds
"Now, now Carlos we have been given a great task to keep our Saguaro safe, we are no mere common brigands wielding violence to further our own ends" Tybalt says in a gruff but confident voice (surprising for so early in the morning). "I will write a note for the sheriff of our doings for last night and then we will bury the body with the others. After which we should ride out in to the country side and patrol for outlaws" Tybalt says as he looks for a both a pen and a shovel.
There is a nib pen and an ink bottle on the marshal's desk. Hanging from stubby wooden dowels built into the wall there is a small assortment of common tools, including a shovel.

Carlos Jiménez de Zamora nods and grunts but says nothing, his attention now focused on a plate of Pecos strawberries he is eating by shoveling the beans into his mouth with a large knife.

Watching you as you write, Abel Armbruster remarks, "Shoot, we should probably all write us up our last wills an' testaments just in case we pass in our chips. Anybody here good at writin' an' such?"
 

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There is a nib pen and an ink bottle on the marshal's desk. Hanging from stubby wooden dowels built into the wall there is a small assortment of common tools, including a shovel.

Carlos Jiménez de Zamora nods and grunts but says nothing, his attention now focused on a plate of Pecos strawberries he is eating by shoveling the beans into his mouth with a large knife.

Watching you as you write, Abel Armbruster remarks, "Shoot, we should probably all write us up our last wills an' testaments just in case we pass in our chips. Anybody here good at writin' an' such?"

"I can read an' write", Eugene says, his tone one of helpfulness rather than braggodocio. There was a time when he couldn't but write an "X" in place of his own name, and learning how has given him great freedom, almost as much as the defeat of the Confederacy. He has since vowed that if he ever has a family, as he hopes to, that his children will be educated from a young age. "If'n you'd trust me to do it."
 

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Tybalt comments will writing his note to the sheriff, " A sensible Idea Abel, we did pick up a reverend, they have a knack for words. Maybe have that that Culpepper fellow check things over. My will is simple enough, take my property to buy me a nice headstone and since I have no living family, split my herd equally amongst my cattlemen". After finishing his note, "That said, barring any unforeseen problems I feel confident that we have taken every sensible precaution to handle these outlaws. Making our demises a remote outcome".
 

Shemek hiTankolel

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When Lars and Juan exit their room, they nearly collide with a pair of painted ladies still partially disrobed and arranging their clothing as they head downstairs. "You gotta pay to touch, pard," remarks the older of the two, which makes the younger one laugh even as she looks into a small hand mirror and applies kohl to her eyes. As you follow them downstairs, you see near the entrance of the hotel your erstwhile companion MacRegan standing with Sheriff Ott.

"There's a less boisterous dining area through that door," Sheriff Ott replies as he points through the crowd of gamblers and drinkers to a connecting door off to the left of the large main room. "The more prominent businessmen prefer less commission while they dine and the proprietor has accommodated them."

As MacRegan scans the room, Lars and Juan appear almost on cue under very suspect circumstances as the two younger men trail behind a pair of painted ladies down the staircase on the opposite side of the room. MacRegan can't help but notice the women appear to be mussed and still in the midst of getting dressed.
MacRegan motions Lars and Juan over, waiting for them to arrive before going into the dining area. Once they arrive he will introduce them to Sheriff Ott and lead them into the room. "Well, you two look like you've got a spring in your step. I hope you aint too tired to eat." MacRegan says with a chuckle and a wink.
 

Dumarest

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"I can read an' write", Eugene says, his tone one of helpfulness rather than braggodocio. There was a time when he couldn't but write an "X" in place of his own name, and learning how has given him great freedom, almost as much as the defeat of the Confederacy. He has since vowed that if he ever has a family, as he hopes to, that his children will be educated from a young age. "If'n you'd trust me to do it."
Tybalt comments will writing his note to the sheriff, " A sensible Idea Abel, we did pick up a reverend, they have a knack for words. Maybe have that that Culpepper fellow check things over. My will is simple enough, take my property to buy me a nice headstone and since I have no living family, split my herd equally amongst my cattlemen". After finishing his note, "That said, barring any unforeseen problems I feel confident that we have taken every sensible precaution to handle these outlaws. Making our demises a remote outcome".
"I ain't lookin to die anytime soon but I'm still of a mind to have Eugene here write it up and maybe we can get that preacher to look it over to make sure it's proper religious-like, as we wouldn't want to be sent to no fiery lake on account of we don't set it right with Jesus," says Abel. Moving over near Eugene, he adds, "We ain't learned 'bout no wills and testaments. How 'bout you set down some proper words for me an' Aaron an' we'll just make our marks at the bottom? We just want to leave everything to our ma back in Missouruh. Other 'n that we don't give a damn." From his apprehensive approach you get the impression that he and his brother may both be illiterate.
 

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Corbin, until now withdrawn after his ordeal, perks up on mention of the wills.

"My father managed a large estate back in Lousiana, near a place called Ville Platte. The workers often had a their final intentions set down in a document like you two intend. The details might be slightly different out here in the territories, but by and large I can render such a document for you"
 

Dumarest

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Juan and Lars see MacRegan and Sheriff Ott at the hotel entrance on the other side of the room across from the staircase. MacRegan motions Lars and Juan over. Once they arrive, he introduces them to Sheriff Ott (whom they've already met, albeit briefly) as they walk through the main room and its commotion to a connecting door that leads a more sedate dining room. "Well, you two look like you've got a spring in your step. I hope you ain't too tired to eat," MacRegan says with a chuckle and a wink.

In the dining room you see several large private tables, but only one is currently in use. It's occupied by a quartet of middle-aged men in dark business attire, all wearing sober expressions as they cut their steaks with serrated knives and spear their potatoes with forks and occasionally wipe a bit of gravy from a chin or mustache. They are speaking in low tones such that you can't make out the gist of their conversation. Upon your entrance they look you over from head to toe as if assessing a steer, but thereafter pay you scant attention.

An older dark-skinned man of indeterminate ethnicity greets you with a skeptical look, particularly aimed at Lars and Juan, and leads you to a table suitable for four. "Will the gentlemen need menus, or do they have something in mind?" he asks.
 
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Baeraad

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Even Lars is smart enough to know that the phrase "this isn't what it looks like!" is rarely if ever believed, so he just blushes and keeps silent.

He brightens up a little as the prospect of dinner is raised.

"Er, just some meat and potatoes for me, thanks," he says.
 

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"Ah," says Tybalt figuring out the subtler points of the brothers dilemma.

"well, I think Corbin is handy enough with the broad strokes of such practical documents, one brother dies the other inherits all" says with an old tiredness as if remembering another past instance of a brother passing.
 

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"I ain't lookin to die anytime soon but I'm still of a mind to have Eugene here write it up and maybe we can get that preacher to look it over to make sure it's proper religious-like, as we wouldn't want to be sent to no fiery lake on account of we don't set it right with Jesus," says Abel. Moving over near Eugene, he adds, "We ain't learned 'bout no wills and testaments. How 'bout you set down some proper words for me an' Aaron an' we'll just make our marks at the bottom? We just want to leave everything to our ma back in Missouruh. Other 'n that we don't give a damn." From his apprehensive approach you get the impression that he and his brother may both be illiterate.

"I 'spect between Corbin and myself, we kin git ya squared away, boys", Eugene says. "Now, do we have any paper an' pencils about?"

OOC: Sorry to hold up the show, I must have missed the notifications...
 

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MacRegan motions Lars and Juan over, waiting for them to arrive before going into the dining area. Once they arrive he will introduce them to Sheriff Ott and lead them into the room. "Well, you two look like you've got a spring in your step. I hope you aint too tired to eat." MacRegan says with a chuckle and a wink.
Even Lars is smart enough to know that the phrase "this isn't what it looks like!" is rarely if ever believed, so he just blushes and keeps silent.

He brightens up a little as the prospect of dinner is raised.

"Er, just some meat and potatoes for me, thanks," he says.
I'm giving A AsenRG a chance to tell us what Juan does or says before I update what happens at the Grand Palace Hotel.
 

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Corbin, until now withdrawn after his ordeal, perks up on mention of the wills.

"My father managed a large estate back in Lousiana, near a place called Ville Platte. The workers often had a their final intentions set down in a document like you two intend. The details might be slightly different out here in the territories, but by and large I can render such a document for you"
"Ah," says Tybalt figuring out the subtler points of the brothers dilemma.

"well, I think Corbin is handy enough with the broad strokes of such practical documents, one brother dies the other inherits all" says with an old tiredness as if remembering another past instance of a brother passing.
"I 'spect between Corbin and myself, we kin git ya squared away, boys", Eugene says. "Now, do we have any paper an' pencils about?"
Even though the sun has only been up a short while, the heat of summer in Arizona Territory is already becoming stifling in the small office.

If anyone is so bold as to open the dear marshal's desk drawer, he will find a sheaf of papers and a pencil. Tybalt is currently wielding the nib pen and ink bottle that are on the marshal's desktop.

"You gringos shouldn't worry so much," says Carlos Jiménez de Zamora with a broad grin. "Who needs a will? Me hace lo que el viento a Juárez." He fidgets with his gun belt and wipes sweat from his brow. “¡Qué bochorno! It's gonna be a hot day."
 

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OOC: I was thinking I've replied. Weird.
Anyway...

IC: Juan just ignores the chicks. He figures they're not an unusual sight around here, and assumes that the Inspector has been in such places before.
"Tired? Of course not, Inspector! I was just planning to go out and find a proper Catholic priest...for confesión! It's time to admit the...well, what happened while we were capturin' those bandidos. You were there, of course."
He looks again at the tables.
"That said, I suppose I can do that after dinner. Or tomorrow!"
 

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Even though the sun has only been up a short while, the heat of summer in Arizona Territory is already becoming stifling in the small office.

If anyone is so bold as to open the dear marshal's desk drawer, he will find a sheaf of papers and a pencil. Tybalt is currently wielding the nib pen and ink bottle that are on the marshal's desktop.

"You gringos shouldn't worry so much," says Carlos Jiménez de Zamora with a broad grin. "Who needs a will? Me hace lo que el viento a Juárez." He fidgets with his gun belt and wipes sweat from his brow. “¡Qué bochorno! It's gonna be a hot day."


Eugene, seeing that Crenshaw has a pen, aassumes the matter is well in hand, but will assist in any way that he is asked to...
 

FeralToaster

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"You gringos shouldn't worry so much," says Carlos Jiménez de Zamora with a broad grin. "Who needs a will? Me hace lo que el viento a Juárez." He fidgets with his gun belt and wipes sweat from his brow. “¡Qué bochorno! It's gonna be a hot day."

"Perhaps Carlos, but 'better to have and not need than to need and not have' as the saying goes". (If everything proceeds normally Tybalt will finish the note to the sheriff than sketch out a will for the brothers and finally something quick for himself).

"Carlos be sure to fill up your canteen before we go out we got some riding to do today, You too Eugene". Tybalt says as he checks his gear before going to check the horses.
 

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"Perhaps Carlos, but 'better to have and not need than to need and not have' as the saying goes". (If everything proceeds normally Tybalt will finish the note to the sheriff than sketch out a will for the brothers and finally something quick for himself).

"Carlos be sure to fill up your canteen before we go out we got some riding to do today, You too Eugene". Tybalt says as he checks his gear before going to check the horses.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Crenshaw", says Eugene, who then approaches Tybalt, who is busily working on the wills. He near-whispers, in the hopes that no one else hears. "Boss," he says, "If'n I die, well, you know I ain't got much. Lincoln an' his gear, my guns and work clothes. But you know, I've been holding on to as much of my pay as I can. If I get kilt, I want you to take everything I've got, and keep it, until another man like me comes along. You know what I mean. Use it to help him get hisself a leg up. Alright?"
 

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Tybalt places a hand on Eugene's shoulder and and solemnly nods in the affirmative. "I will Eugene, but we'll take every precaution it doesn't come to that". Tybalt turns and addresses the group "When the rest get back here we're going to take down that their bandit outfit and make the town a safe and prosperous place for people".
 

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Eugene, seeing that Crenshaw has a pen, aassumes the matter is well in hand, but will assist in any way that he is asked to...
"Perhaps Carlos, but 'better to have and not need than to need and not have' as the saying goes". (If everything proceeds normally Tybalt will finish the note to the sheriff than sketch out a will for the brothers and finally something quick for himself).

"Carlos be sure to fill up your canteen before we go out we got some riding to do today, You too Eugene". Tybalt says as he checks his gear before going to check the horses.
"¡Claro que sí!" replies Carlos. "In Pimería Alta, one must fear the sun more than a man."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Crenshaw", says Eugene, who then approaches Tybalt, who is busily working on the wills. He near-whispers, in the hopes that no one else hears. "Boss," he says, "If'n I die, well, you know I ain't got much. Lincoln an' his gear, my guns and work clothes. But you know, I've been holding on to as much of my pay as I can. If I get kilt, I want you to take everything I've got, and keep it, until another man like me comes along. You know what I mean. Use it to help him get hisself a leg up. Alright?"
Tybalt places a hand on Eugene's shoulder and and solemnly nods in the affirmative. "I will Eugene, but we'll take every precaution it doesn't come to that". Tybalt turns and addresses the group "When the rest get back here we're going to take down that their bandit outfit and make the town a safe and prosperous place for people".
"If somebody can front a couple dollars, me an' Abel will rustle up some grub for all o' us an' see if we can't track down that preacher man," volunteers Aaron. "Mex food'll be cheapest less 'n' any o' you got objections."
 

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Even Lars is smart enough to know that the phrase "this isn't what it looks like!" is rarely if ever believed, so he just blushes and keeps silent.

He brightens up a little as the prospect of dinner is raised.

"Er, just some meat and potatoes for me, thanks," he says.
"I perceive the gentleman is a true connoisseur," replies the maître d'hôtel.

Sheriff Ott smiles and says, "Allow me." He turns to the maître d' and says, "Jacques-Désiré, bring us all œufs pochés, pièce de boeuf à l'anglaise, pommes de terre à l'anglaise, and a bottle of red wine."

"As you say, sir," says Jacques-Désiré before he turns briskly to convey the order to the chef.

To Juan and Lars Sheriff Ott says, "I gather you boys ain't ate much at a good restaurant."
 
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