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them up to anchor them securely to a couple of the trees that were just a few feet apart and seemed sturdy enough to keep them. With their prisoners secured, and a few hard swigs of whiskey, Colt reluctantly began to tell his friend of the sordid conversation he had overheard from the two back at the bar. While listening to the tale, Pale Horse sat quietly, staring coldly at the men who now, were not only beginning to see the error of their ways, but their worthless lives slowly pass before them like the parade of death and destruction they had left in their wake. Realizing that they had nothing new to offer the men who held them captive, and the recent news that the girls were the sweetheart of one, and the sisters of the other, the outlaws began emphatically pleading for their lives once more, and offering their shallow apologies and recent cuts of the ransom paid. Pale Horse looked with dead eyes of menacing calm at Colt and asked him, “Is there anything you would like to say or do before I take over these “proceedings.” Colt shook his head, “No”, knowing that what his friend had in mind for the two was much more appropriate for the sins against them than anything he could do to them himself.
Pale Horse slowly rose to his feet, and without a word to either of them, walked over to his horse, and withdrew a small tin of grease paint he carried with him for just this sort of occasion. Colt, seeing what his friend was doing, looked at the two prisoners and gravely announced, “The Devil's walking among you tonight friends, and he cares not for your name.” Pale Horse, now adorned in his traditional war paint, looked over to Colt, and in a monotone of voice said to him, “I'll see you in the morning.” He had witnessed this scene before, and had no intention of seeing it again. The screams of the last victim still invaded his dreams to this very day. Reaching down for the bottle and blanket, he stood and walked over to Biscuit, climbed upon him, and rode back towards town.
Pale Horse sat down in front of the fire, oblivious to everything around him, and while fanning the smoke from the fire towards him, he began to chant, and summon the spirits to make their presence known, and to once more guide his hands with the vengeance and fire that burned in his heart.
The blood curdling screams pierced the night for hours as Pale Horse skinned each of the unfortunate gunslingers, then viciously filleted them to their very bones, soon to be left with the remaining flesh to feed the coyotes and other indigenous vermin that roamed these plains.
The next morning, without prompt, Pale Horse met Colt in the lobby of the hotel which they had both stayed the night. When Colt arrived in town the night before, he had procured two tickets for the train to Oklahoma City, leaving at 8:00am sharp, knowing it would be much faster than riding horseback for the next several days. Pale Horse walked up to his friend, and before he could make the very same suggestion, Colt held out the tickets for him to see. “I'm glad you thought ahead, I've already spoken to the hostler about having our horses readied for the train ride to Oklahoma City. Colt slapped his friend on the back as he looked up at the clock that hung beautifully above the vast entrance to the hotel and announced, “We have an hour and a half before the train pulls out, I say we go down to the cafe and have ourselves a large breakfast before making the trip.” Although anxious to get under way, the train was their best hope of getting to Oklahoma City, and all they had for the moment was the time at hand. Walking out the door of the hotel, they couldn't help but notice the stares they were getting, and overhearing the whispers of the gruesome tale, spread by a rancher that had stumbled upon the mutilated remains of the two that were escorted out of the saloon just the night before. “Seems to me, by the sound of things, all went well last night”, Colt said to his partner as they crossed the busy thoroughfare headed for the cafe. Pale Horse looked over at Colt with a look of nonchalance and said, “Four down, five to go.”
The mood was ominous as they sat down to a hearty meal and discussed the task that lie before them. “The men back at Wolf Canyon said Walters has a sister in Oklahoma City, that will be our first stop once we arrive”, said Pale Horse as he enjoyed the flap-jacks and maple syrup that were in abundance on his plate. “My thoughts precisely”, Colt replied, as he barely looked up from his and continued with his thought, “If the girls are there, I think we should put them on the train back to Denver, and have Ben meet them there for the ride back to the ranch.” “That's a good idea, that means we need to get to the telegraph office and wire Ben of our intentions, so he'll have the time needed to make the trip by the time the girls arrive,” then Pale Horse, always thinking ahead said in a solemn tone, “That's if they are there, with this Walters, nothing is for certain.” “Agreed” replied Colt, as silence fell upon them both and they carried on with their breakfast.
The train could be heard for a couple of miles or so, as it steamed it's way through Dead man's Pass and the echoes reverberated off the jagged cliffs that gave it the name. The 707 churned ever forward on the steel tracks headed for the depot, where the two waited impatiently with their horses, ready to load them into the livestock car for the 7 hour journey to Oklahoma City. Both men had ordered extra biscuits for their horses, neither of them forgetting the fondness of either for the baked goods they so loved to eat. With the train still a mile or so away, Sheriff Thornton approached the men. “Morning gents”, he said, as he tipped his hat out of courtesy for the two. “Good Morning Sheriff” returned Colt as he did the same. “Seems the two of you came across a couple of Walters men at the saloon yesterday evening” “As a matter of fact we did”, answered Colt, knowing he and his friend had stepped over the line in the way they handled the outlaws. Sheriff Thornton glanced down at the blood stained knife that Pale Horse had strapped to his hip, then looked back up at him and said, “And by the looks of things, it appears some one cut 'em up real good too, rather than bringing them to justice so they could be tried for their crimes, you wouldn't know anything about that would you”? Before Pale Horse could answer, Colt spoke up and said, “We had 'em alright, and no more than a couple of hundred yards out of town, they jumped us and sped off towards the bluffs that you told us about just a couple of days ago, and rather than chase them down through that canyon of bandits, we chose to ride back here to this fine town of yours and get a good night's rest before pursuing the lead we have on Walters, and that's where we're headed now” Pale Horse, trusting his friend to persuade the lawman, continued with his silence and let Colt handle the situation. “Jumped you, you say”? replied Sheriff Thornton, knowing their story was an all out lie, but glad to be rid of the men that plagued his town at the same time. With an obvious chuckle, Thornton shook his head and looking at Pale Horse, said, “Must have been those damned Mexicans that got to them then” Pale Horse reached forward to shake the Sheriffs hand and answered, “Must have been.” “Well, good riddance is what I say, so, you have a lead on the whereabouts of Walters and his men”? “Yes we do Bill, We've been told he's in Oklahoma City, and he has the women with him, and we're headed there right now,” Colt, thinking ahead, gave the sheriff the names of the outlaws riding with Walters and asked him if he would send a wire ahead to the sheriff in Oklahoma City and let him know of the situation, and to keep an eye out for them until they arrived. “Absolutely” replied Sheriff Thornton, “I'll see to it immediately,” The Sheriff reminded them again as the big steam engine pulled slowly to a stop in front of them. “Well, like I said before, if there's anything else I can do to help you fella's, you just let me know” “We sure do thank you”, answered back Colt as he waited for the crewman to unload the livestock car so they could board Biscuit and Spirit and continue on to their destination. Pale Horse sensing another opportunity, spoke up and said to the Sheriff, “We would like to accept your offer of assistance, if it truly stands sheriff”. The sheriff, surprised that he said anything at all remarked, “Of course friend, how can I be of service to you” Colt, unaware at the request his friend had for the lawman turned around to listen. “In a day or so, if things go as planned, the two women we told you of before should be arriving here by train, and will need to be protected and looked after until our friend, Sheriff Ben Turner shows up from Rifle Stock to escort them home.” The sheriff, nodding his head and again reaching to shake the bounty hunter's hand, answered back, “Consider it done Sir, It's the least I can do for the two gentleman that rid my town of those miserable bandits” “Just send me a wire and let me know of their arrival, and I will see to it that they are not only protected every minute that they are here, but I'll see to it that they are put up in the hotel in the nicest suite, and taken care of proper, free of charge of course, until your friend from Texas gets here to collect 'em”. “That's very generous of you Sir, I'll do just that”, he said back to him. Colt smiled his approval and shook the sheriff's hand and thanked him for his kind gesture before the lawman turned and walked away.
As the train bellowed it's rich white smoke, and steam spewed forth sporadically from the many shining copper lines that released it's pending pressure, arriving passengers were greeted by family and friends as they disembarked from the proud steel leviathan and made their way into the city. The conductor, swinging his gold pocket watch with duty and purpose, paced the freshly painted platform announcing his well rehearsed spiel as would be passengers scrambled about, each seeming apprehensive as not to miss their boarding call. As the last of the livestock was unloaded, the crewman quickly swept out the refuse before loading the next set of live cargo onto the train. Pale Horse and Colt stood back and took it all in, each shaking their heads at the hustle and bustle, with Colt remarking to his companion, “Seems like everybody is in a hurry these days, either to come or go, don't it”? Pale Horse responded with a half grunt and said, “That's why I live in the mountains, there's nothing but nature, Spirit, and myself, and all the quiet a man could ever ask for.” The keeper stepped forward and reaching for Biscuit's and Spirit's reins, said to their masters, “Worry not gentleman, your horses are in the best of hands and will
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