This was not what he was hoping for. Not even close. Cramped on a rocking, loud, crowded train, in the middle of the Western part of the United States of America was not the place a young Italian lad wanted to find himself. The train was not like the ones he was used to riding in his hometown of Velletri, where the rail lines were clean and carefully tended, and the railcars were classy and spacious. Here it was the exact opposite. The railcar he rode in was cramped and consisted of only a red strip of carpet on the floor and stiff seats. The tracks looked like they had not been tended to in years, and apparently, there was a 'no open window' policy, which prevented him from getting even a breath of fresh air.

Yes, the young Octavius Caesar was having a dreadful time aboard the American railroad. He had not expected to find himself here. He was supposed to be in the city, studying law and constructing court cases. His mother had spent a fortune for him to sail to America, and an even greater sum for him to attend an American university. He had finished his studies at the top of his class and should have easily gotten a job. But instead, as fate would have it, there were no job openings for lawyers. So, he had been forced to travel west in the hopes of finding something, anything, that would accept his new degree.

He had heard a lot about the American West while in the city. It was a land full of riches and wonders, or so, he had been told. Men and women would travel for miles just to find gold or open up businesses on the frontier or engage in trade with the natives of the continent, or just to seek adventure. Farmers, soldiers, miners, explorers, everyone was heading west.

And where there were people, there was bound to be a need for law and order. That was what Octavius hoped to find. A new settlement should have plenty of openings for a law student.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the wooden seat. It was hopeless, he knew. It had been his last ditch attempt at making money. Not for himself, no- but for his family back home. They had spent so much money in the hopes that he would earn more, and then some. That had been his plan- to send the money back home. But he knew he would make very little in the West. But he could not just give up.

As he thought bitterly about his situation, he vaguely felt the train grind to halt. He glanced up and out the window, his eyes landing on a small wooden structure on the side of the tracks. There was a jagged looking wooden sign hanging from the edge of the roof, with faded red letters painted on the side facing the tracks. Welcome to Dry Bone Pass.

"Drybone Pass," He muttered to himself, frowning.

It sounded like a miserable place to be, but it was his stop. He stood up, knocking his head beneath the wooden shelf that held his bags. He winced, and rubbed his head, scowling up at the shelf. He grabbed his two plaid bags and turned to exit his seat. The woman who had been sitting beside him, he noticed, was sound asleep. A plump woman, it would be very difficult for him to climb over her. So, he nudged his shoulder.

"Excuse me, ma'am," He began politely. "This is my stop."

The woman stirred, mumbling something incoherently and swatting Octavius' hand away. He huffed in frustration.

"Ma'am, I must get around you." He persisted.

The woman did not answer. Two whistles came from the steam engine, warning of the fact that it would soon be moving again. If he did not move fast, he would miss his stop. He sighed, and reached across the woman to set his bags down on the floor. He had meant no harm or disrespect, but the woman sitting across the aisle from him thought he did. She let out a piercing screech, which woke up the woman whom Octavius was awkwardly bent over. He opened his mouth to explain himself but was clobbered on the head by her heavy purse. She stood, climbing onto her seat while she and the other woman took swings at him.

Scrambling on his stomach, Octavius grabbed his bags and tried to reach the open railcar door. He had just made it to the very edge and was about to stand when he was grabbed by a large man in a conductor's uniform. The man tugged his to his feet, holding him by the collar of his shirt.

"You messin' with these women, you rapscallion?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

Octavius gulped nervously. "N-No, sir. You see, I was trying to get myself and my bags to the door and- oompf!"

He landed on the dusty ground, missing the wooden platform. He spat out a mouthful of dirt and stared up at the man. The conductor glared down at him, smiling smugly as the train began to move away.

"W-Wait!" Octavius yelled, scrambling to his feet. "My bags!"

He watched as his bags were thrown out of the train car, one of them hitting the ground and sending carefully organized papers all over the tracks.

He gasped. "My papers!"

He tried to collect them all, but the wind stirred up by the train moving away spread them all over the area. There was no way he could gather them all back up. With a sigh, he knelt down and began picking up the papers, scowling and muttering to himself angrily as he heard the train whistle in the distance.

"Well howdy, there neighbor!"

Octavius looked up to see a short, older looking man in spectacles and a suit. The man was grinning like a fool, and he had his hand extended in greeting. Octavius looked at his hand, then casually shook it, rising to his feet.

"Hello," He replied cautiously.

The man's smile widened. "Don't reckon I've seen you around here. You new in town?"

Octavius nodded. "I am, sir. Um, could you-"

"Please, please." The man said, interrupting him. "Call me Cripson."

"Oh...okay." Octavius cleared his throat and started again. "Cripson, sir, do you know of any places to stay here?"

Cripson laughed a hearty laugh, and with great mirth. "Of course I do! I own a nice little inn myself just down the road. Need a room?"

Octavius looked up at the sky, which was becoming dark. It would be night soon, a time when bandits and wild creatures came out and stalked the streets. He shivered. Those were the types of things that his mother had warned him about before he left on the voyage across the sea.

He nodded quickly. "Yes; I am in desperate need of a room. Do you have one you can spare me?"

Cripson nodded. "Yup, I do. Three bucks a night."

Octavius' heart almost stopped. "Th-Three dollars a night!? That is unheard of!"

Cripson shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. "Welcome to Drybone Pass, kid. Where ain't nothin' cheap and everyone's got a skeleton in their closet." He burst out laughing at his own joke.

Octavius sighed and looked from the sky to his bags, and then to Cripson. He realized he had no other choice but to accept the offer of a room. Even if the price was outrageous. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of cash. Carefully counting three bills, he handed them over to Cripson, who took them eagerly. He grinned.

"If you'll follow me, I'll give you a nice little tour and take you to your room." Cripson picked up one fo the two bags and began to walk into town before Octavius could stop him.

He followed reluctantly, holding his other bag tight. The town was small, and judging by the amount of people he saw, it held just a few more than a hundred people. Most of the buildings were made of wooden logs and planks, although a few, like the large building which was obviously the town bank, were made of stone.

"That there's the main well," Cripson explained, pointing at a large well off to the side. "And over there's Mason's Ranch, and then we got a saloon there, some houses here, and a general store there…"

Octavius nodded blankly but was not really listening to the innkeeper's information. He did not really care at the moment where things were, or even what things were. He could learn it all in the morning. At the moment, all he wanted was a nice, quiet room, a warm bath, and a soft bed to sleep in.

As the thought of sleep settled over his mind, he let himself slip into the warm embrace of exhaustion, until he stumbled into a pothole in the ground. He yelped, and just managed to regain his footing. Cripson looked at him for a moment, then burst out into his throaty cackle.

"So you're a clumsy one, then?" He asked, slapping Octavius' back.

Octavius winced. "No…"

In his mind, he cursed the innkeeper a thousand times over. He was not yet certain of the man, who seemed hospitable, but rude at the same time. A part of him thought that it might not be wise to stay with him.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Cripson grabbed his arm and dragged him to the side of the road, out of the way of a rushing horse. Octavius gave an undignified screech and toppled onto his tush. The horse skidded to a halt, rearing on its hind legs and whinnying. The man atop the horse, silhouetted against the waning light of the setting sun, pulled the reigns tight to steady the beast. It was hard to see his features, but the Stetson on his head showed that he was a true man of the West.

"Easy there, Dakota." The man said, patting the horse's' muzzle. He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the young man in front of him. "Cripson, who's this newcomer?" He asked.

Cripson thought for a moment, then looked at Octavius. "That's a good question….who are you, boy?"

Octavius gulped nervously. "I-I am Octavius Caesar, sir."

"Octavius Caesar?" The man repeated Octavius' name aloud. "Ya ain't from 'round 'ere, are ya? Ya come from the North, I'm guissin'. N'York, N'England, Maine?"

"No, sir," Octavius said, shaking his head quickly. "I am from Italy."

The man sniffed. "An' what're ya doin' 'ere?"

"Well, sir, I am looking for a job," Octavius answered truthfully. "I need a job so I can send money back to my family. I specialize in the law."

The man scratched his chin. "That law?"

Octavius nodded. "Oh yes, sir. I spent four years at Hamilton College studying law. I was supposed to become a lawyer but there were no job openings. So, I came here."

The man was silent for a moment, before speaking again in a measured tone. "You wanna be a lawman, boy?"

Octavius hesitated. "A-A lawman, sir?"

"That's right," The man nodded. "You wanna be one?"

"Is...that like a lawyer?" Octavius asked, shuffling his feet uncertainly. "Because if it is, I can do that."

"Kinda," The man replied. "Tell ya what; you come an' see me in the mornin', and I'll give ya the skinny of the job. Ya got that?"

Octavius nodded rapidly, unable to hid the relief in his voice. He had a chance to redeem himself. "Yes, sir. But...where?"

"At the jail." The man replied. "Jus' ask for Jedediah Smith."

Without even waiting to see if Octavius would answer, the man veered his horse back around and galloped down the road. Octavius watched him go, wondering to himself about what the job could possibly be. Maybe he would be sorting papers, or he might even become a judge. That would be interesting. What a stroke of luck he had been given.

Cripson chuckled. "Well, you've met the Sheriff, now all you need to do is get settled in."

Octavius blinked, turning to face Cripson. "That was the Sheriff?" He asked in surprise.

Cripson nodded. "Of course it is! Who else would he be? Now come on, boy- I ain't waitin' out here any longer. You want that room or not?"

Octavius hurriedly followed after Cripson, wondering what sort of job he would find himself doing tomorrow.