Luke Dawson's eyes scanned the farm, from the bluff he stood upon. He cautiously moved around some shrubs as he waited to see if anyone was home. Slowly and methodically he pulled the folded sheet of paper from his vest pocket - instinct told him to use every ounce of caution especially on a man wanted for the murder of his wife. The paper had an etched printed picture of Mitch Langton. The reward for his capture was listed at five hundred dollars; dead or alive.
Dawson enjoyed his bounty job. It kept him out on the plains and mostly out of the cities. His distrust for the law and most people made him hate society as much as he did. And his personal past made him hate murderers even more. He saw his father shot down in the dusty street in Wichita 30 years earlier and the gunman was never caught. The law, at the time said they had bigger problems with Indian uprisings and the brewing issues between the few fledgling States that were in the Union and those in the south.
Dawson chewed his mangled cigar until it practically fell into his hand as he reached for it. A quick glance and he tossed it aside pulling out a newer one. That is when his eyes caught movement below. He hunched down quickly and squinted at the man who left the rough shack and walked toward the well. The man placed a bucket on a stump and then dropped the wooden bucket attached to a rope down into the hole. Once he was satisfied that it contained enough water he pulled the rope and poured the water from the one bucket to the other. Leisurely he strolled back into the house.
"Don't that take all. It's like he don't care someone wants to tan his hide." Dawson said to himself as the stood up and grabbed for his reigns and then pulled himself up onto the saddle.
Charles Langton scooped some of the water he just retrieved into the kettle on the large cast iron cook stove. It was likely the only thing to survive a good wind he determined. His attention to the coffee he was about to make broke when he heard the horse approaching the homestead. A slight smile spread his lips - he didn't get many visitors out his way. Charles pushed the kettle off to the side and turned to the door of the shack. It was already filled with Luke Dawson's large frame.
"Well, hello!" Charles moved slowly forward with his hand extended to the stranger, "I don't get many visitors out this way. Would you like some coffee? I'm just pulling some on."
Dawson slowly inched into the room. In his teeth was his cigar. His eyes looking around the room for clues about the man in front of him.
"You lookin' fer someone mister?" Charlie squeaked out.
"You know I am." Dawson moved closer and then held out the wanted poster, "You know I'm after yer hide Mitch. Don't play dumb to me..."
"That ain't me! It's my brother!" Charlie backed away and into the stove. His hand touched the hot plate and he yelped in pain.
"Your brother huh? How come the folks over the ridge said this was you then?"
"He's my twin. Honest!" Charlie clutched his hand and trying to shake the pain away.
"Sure. And where's yer wife?" Dawson pushed more.
"I ain't never married yet! I'm just trying to carve something out of this land first."
"There's one other thing I hate more than murderers, and that's liars." Dawson was now standing over Charlie, "And you're both." Charlie gasped as Dawson grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around and toward the door. "Yer gonna get on that horse and go into Dodge with me, whether you want to or not." Dawson laughed as he pushed Charlie through the door and he landed on his stomach out on the dusty plain in front of the shack.
"Get up you bastard!" he kicked Charlie hard in the side and Charlie groaned. "I ain't Mitch..." he said through his teeth as Dawson grabbed him from the ground pulling him to his feet.
"Sure. I'd like to see how you explain your way out of this one Langton!" Dawson laughed as he pushed the smaller man up onto the waiting horse. "I can smell the money now," he gleefully pulled the other horse's reigns toward his own mount. Charlie was slumped forward and groaned with every hoof hitting the ground. "Better get used to that Mitch ole boy. It's two days hard ride to Dodge."
Dawson purposely tugged the other horse forward causing a severe ripple of pain to run through Charlie. The meek farmer looked up through his misted eyes and wonder what his estranged twin brother had done and why he was hunted down and not him.