Cully Brown: Jess - how'd you get out of that river?
Jess: How I got out don't matter.
Fans: Oh, yes, it does matter! C'mon, Jess, tell us what happened.
Jess: Dad gum, you Laramie fans always want to know every last detail. Alright, here's the rest of the story.

Hold onto that log, was my thought as Cully Brown pushed it and me back into the river. It'll keep me afloat. Keep my head out of the water. The current's strong but I can't do anything about that, so don't think about it. Concentrate on what I've got to do. Keep my head out of the water and get to the river bank. Kick about in the water, like Andy taught me in the swimming hole, that'll help me move closer to the bank. The water's mighty cold but I can't do anything about that, so don't think about it. Keep my head out of the water. Look towards the river bank, 'cause that's where I've got to get to. Damn Cully Brown to hell.

Is that smoke? A fire? Hard to tell with the water in my eyes. If it is a fire, then maybe there's someone there who'll help. Yell, Harper, shout for help. Yell as loud as you can. Kick towards the bank and yell.

Someone's there, I think. Keep kicking. Get to the bank. Somebody grabbed me, pulling hard. My belt was still caught on the tree. Whoever it was gave an almighty jerk, almost pulled my arms out, but the belt came loose. More hands were grabbing me and dragging me along. Then there was ground beneath my feet and I was being pulled onto dry land. Ground never felt so good. I tried to stand, climb up the river bank under my own steam, but a wave of dizziness hit and I couldn't walk straight. Dang it! Those dizzy spells had been plaguing me off and on since I got that crease in the saloon, especially when I'd been pushing hard, like that ride to James' ranch or battling with the river here. Someone was speaking.
"Get on his other side. Let's get him back to camp." I felt my arms being draped across shoulders on either side of me as I was half steered, half carried toward the smoke I'd seen from the river. When we reached the campfire, I slumped to the ground with my eyes closed and waited for my head to settle down. My rescuers were talking.

"It's the fellow you're after."
"What do you mean?"
"It's Cully Brown."
"He's not Cully Brown."
"That's the name he was going by when he came to the Bar BJ."
"No, Brown worked with me for over a week before he took off with every cent I had. I know his face – won't ever forget it. This fellow ain't Cully Brown."

I had a feeling I knew that first voice. I opened my eyes and pushed myself up till I was sitting more or less upright. One of the men draped a blanket around my shoulders. I looked up at him.
"Sobey?"
"That's my name. What's yours, since our friend here swears it isn't Cully?"
"He's right. I'm not Cully Brown. My name's Jess Harper."
"So why were you calling yourself Cully Brown when you turned up at the ranch?"
"Let him get his breath back, Sobey." It was the second man. He handed me a cup of coffee. "Here, drink that and get warmed up. And while we're doing introductions, I'm Pace Radlett."
"Thanks," I said, taking the cup. "Glad to meet you, Radlett. Real, real glad, believe me."

I don't know how good the coffee was, but right then it was the best I'd ever tasted.
"Thanks for pulling me out of the river, both of you. I'm lucky you heard me shouting."
"We were on the lookout. When that horse wandered into camp all muddied up, we suspicioned his rider might be in trouble." I looked over to where Pace was pointing. I hadn't taken notice of the horses tethered nearby but now I saw that Traveller was one of them.

"Even so, I was lucky you were around." I looked at Sobey. "I thought you'd lit out for good."
"I'm in no rush," he said in that slow kind of way of his. "When I came across Pace camped here, I thought I'd stay and take it easy a day or two. The fishing's good, this part of the river."
"And we made quite a catch today," said Pace. Peering at my head, he added, "Looks like you'd got hurt even before you went in the river. Whatever's under that bandage is bleeding."
"Yeah, that happened a few days back. I guess it got opened up again."
"That's right, you'd been in some sort of ruckus before you rode into the ranch," Sobey said. "I never did hear what happened."
"I was in the saloon with Cully Brown and a fellow drew on us. I got creased and was knocked out. While I was out, Cully stole my identity papers and swapped his gun for mine – and took along my wallet full of money as well. He'd mentioned he was headed for the Bar BJ so I went there hoping I'd find him. When Mrs James took me for Cully, I went along so I could stay at the ranch until Cully showed up." I grinned up at Sobey. "Your boss knew all along – he'd known Cully a few years back. He was just waiting to see what I was up to. Cully turned up the day you left."
"You gotta do your preparation before you try to impersonate someone," said Radlett.
"You sound like you know what you're talking about," I said.
"Yeah, I worked for Pinkerton's for a few years after the war, before I got my ranch." He lifted the coffee pot and refilled my cup.
"How'd you get tangled up with Cully?" he asked.
"It was an accident. I came across Cully holed up, with two men firing at him. Looked to me like he'd been bushwhacked, so I went to help him. Turned out they were two bounty hunters, after him because he was wanted for murder."

Radlett laughed.
"Hey, it must have been your bullet that almost took me out!"
"You're that other bounty hunter?" I said. He shook his head.
"I was shooting at Cully Brown up there in the rocks but no, I'm no bounty hunter." He gave a rueful sort of laugh. "That was my one try at the profession and I decided it wasn't the career for me. Giles is the real bounty hunter. He was bound and determined to stay on Cully's trail even if it meant getting himself killed."
"It did," I told him. "He trailed us into town and followed us into the saloon. It was him that drew on us. Was he a friend of yours?" I thought I'd better find that out before telling Radlett the whole of the story. Radlett shook his head.
"No, I teamed up with him in Denver. I'd trailed Cully there after he stole some money from me but after watching him murder a man without a second thought, I didn't want to tackle him alone. Giles reckoned he could catch him if he could find him but had no idea how to go about tracking him down. It seemed to make sense – I'd trace Cully, Giles would do any rough work catching him and we'd split the reward." He paused. "I know it sounds strange, but it wasn't bounty money I was after. At least, I didn't think of it as bounty money. It was just a way of getting back what I'd lost. I couldn't get it back direct from Cully – it had all gone at the poker table. Claiming the reward seemed like getting it from him indirectly. Five hundred would just about cover what he'd stolen. You say Giles is dead? So Cully killed him?"
"No, it was me," I admitted. "I'd seen him come into the saloon and kept an eye on him. When he drew, I was ready. He was fast but my aim was better. I don't think Cully had even realized he was there until he started firing."
"How did Brown switch the papers over?"
"I don't know. I was out cold. All I remember is yelling, 'Look out, Cully!' when I saw Giles draw, then firing at him. Next I knew was when I woke up in a jail cell. They told me I'd killed him but it wasn't that that was worrying anyone. There were plenty of witnesses to say Giles drew first. But the sheriff was convinced I was Cully Brown, wanted for murder, and nothing would change his mind. He wouldn't even send a wire to Laramie to check my story. Said it would be a waste of time and money."

"Where's Cully now?" Radlett asked.
"Don't know for sure. We'd been mustanging. He'd talked me into working with him; promised when he got paid for the job he'd give me back what he'd stolen. Instead he tried to settle the debt by pushing me in the river. I guess he'd head back to the ranch. That's where I'll start looking, anyway."
Pace gave another wry laugh.
"Mustanging – that seems to be his specialty. That's what he was doing at my place. He walked in, said his horse had broken a leg back on the trail. I was glad of the chance of some help – I needed to make some extra cash. It had been a bad season, a lot of my cattle died of a sickness – the vet gave it some fancy name – and the sale of what was left didn't net enough for the next mortgage payment. I wanted to try mustanging but couldn't do it alone and couldn't afford to hire help. Cully said he'd help me for a quarter share of the profit plus a mustang to break for himself. It all seemed real good until the day after we sold the mustangs when I woke up to find Cully gone and not just the mustang money, but the cattle money as well, gone with him. More fool me for showing him where I kept it!"
"You think he'll try the same thing at the Bar BJ?" Sobey asked.
"That, or maybe a lot worse," I replied. "I better get going."
"Wait a minute, Jess! This is something the sheriff should handle," Pace said. "We're talking about a killer here, remember. We'll go into town at first light, let the sheriff know where Cully is."
"The sheriff is convinced I'm Cully," I reminded him. "He'd have me back in jail before anyone could let him know anything."
"I can tell him you're not Cully," said Pace. I shook my head.
"We can't be sure he'd pay any attention to you. You're a stranger in town; your word wouldn't count for much."
"I think I can make it count." Pace spoke in a way that sounded to me like he had something up his sleeve, but I shook my head again.
"I don't want to take the chance. Besides, tomorrow might be too late." I went over to Traveller and started tightening the saddle cinch.

*L*A*R*A*M*I*E*

I pretended more confidence than I felt when I said goodbye to Bryan James. I'd come to like him and I didn't want to add to his worries. He had the mustangs corralled and ready to sell but he was still faced with a ranch to run single-handed while he was barely able to walk more than a few yards at a time. And he didn't show it, but the disillusionment he must have felt when he learned the truth about his wife would have gone deep. So I waved as I rode away from the Bar BJ ranch but I was nothing like sure that my troubles with the local law would be resolved by the letter I carried in my pocket. That pig-headed sheriff would be just as likely to throw it in the waste basket without even looking at it.

When I got into town and dismounted in front of the sheriff's office, I hesitated. The telegraph office was across the street. Maybe I should send a wire to Mort before I got within reach of Sheriff Caxton, just in case I wound up in the cell again. As I stood there wondering, I heard a shout.
"Jess!" I turned to see Pace Radlett and Sobey coming towards me.
"Nicely met, Jess. We were just going to see the sheriff," said Pace. "You on your way to see him, too?"
"Yes. Bryan James gave me a letter, testifying that I'm not Cully Brown. If you add your word as well, maybe the old cuss will listen."
"Not just my word. There are plenty of others to testify that you're not Cully Brown."
"Others?" I was puzzled.
"He's been detectivin'," said Sobey.
"Did you catch up with Cully?" Pace asked.
"Yeah, he went back to the ranch like I figured. He was there when I got back."
"Where is he now?"
"He's still at the ranch. He won't be leaving it. When I got there, he was pointing a gun at Bryan James. He turned it on me. He missed - I didn't. Cully won't be leaving the Bar BJ; he's buried there."
"Did Linda James have anything to do with that gun pointing?" Sobey asked.
"She was paying for it," I told him. "She ended up paying for it a different way. She left the ranch this morning – for good."
"Is the boss alright?"
"Yeah. When I left him, he was standing on his own two feet."
"Come on, let's see the sheriff and get this business of Jess's identity sorted out." Pace had a half smile on his face and a sort of twinkle in his eye. I wondered again if he had something up his sleeve. Anyhow, I'd find out soon enough – we were walking through the door of the sheriff's office.

Sheriff Caxton got to his feet as we walked in.
"Cully Brown! Where'd you catch him?"
"I'm not Cully Brown," I told him. "I've got a letter from Bryan James to prove it, plus Pace Radlett here will testify the same thing."
"A letter, hmm? A letter's easily faked. And testimony from a friend of yours … you'll need more than that, Brown."
"Oh, not just my testimony, Sheriff," said Pace. "There's over a dozen people in this town who can swear to him not being Cully Brown."
"Who?" The sheriff looked startled. I was startled too and would have asked the same thing if the sheriff hadn't beaten me to it.
"Why, everyone who was in the saloon the night of the shooting. They all heard Harper shout 'Look out, Cully!" before the shooting began. Unless he was shouting a warning to himself, it must have been the fellow with him who was Cully Brown."
"He's a friend of Brown's, then. I can hold him for questioning to try to find out where Cully Brown is now." The sheriff wasn't going to quit easy.
"Cully Brown is dead. It's all in Mr James' letter," I said, handing the envelope to him. He frowned as he read it, then looked up at me.
"I can still bring charges against you," he said. "Breaking jail, for a start. Then you must have stolen a horse when you got away."
"No, I got my own horse from the livery stable. The boy there recognized me from when I brought it in. The only thing I took that didn't belong to me was Cully's gun and since he had mine, that was a fair exchange. I suppose I did break jail and maybe I'll have to stand trial for that but I can plead extenuating circumstances."
"We'll see," said Caxton. He reached for the jail keys but Pace started speaking.
"You know, Sheriff, if Jess does that – plead extenuating circumstances, I mean – then there'd be an investigation into his arrest," he said with a meaningful look. "A judge might want to know why you didn't telegraph the Laramie sheriff for a character check, or why you didn't question the witnesses in the saloon, especially since it appears you were at the saloon door and must have at least heard Jess calling out to Cully. Jess might even be able to bring a charge of unlawful imprisonment…"
"Alright, alright," said Caxton. "No need to stand there yapping and wasting time. I'm sure Mr Harper wants to get about his business and be on his way home. I don't see there's any need for me to delay him further." He glared at Pace and me.
"Thanks, Sheriff." I grinned and touched my hat as I headed for the door. I don't believe in pushing my luck and I wanted to be out of that place before the sheriff had a chance to change his mind.
"Been a pleasure meeting you, Sheriff," said Pace as he followed me. "We'll let you get on with sending the telegraph for Mr Harper's reward."
"Reward?" This time the sheriff and I did both get the word out at the same time.
"The reward for capture of Cully Brown," said Pace in an amazingly innocent voice. "A thousand dollars. You have the written testimony there from Mr James that it's Jess who's entitled to it. You have his address – you can send it on. Good day."
The three of us left the sheriff's office. Sobey hadn't said a word apart from a goodbye to the sheriff but for the first time since I'd known him, he was laughing.

In the saloon, the same waitress who'd served Cully and me that first night brought us our drinks.
"Did you get things sorted out with the sheriff, Mr Radlett?" she asked Pace.
"That we did, Sally," Pace answered her. "Once he heard what you told me about Jess here shouting out to Cully, he realized he'd made a mistake." He had that innocent tone to his voice again but this time the grin on his face belied it. The laugh Sally gave in return as she headed back to the bar sounded like she was well aware of what sort of 'mistake' the sheriff had made.

"I owe you again, Pace," I said. "Your figurin' out that folks heard me shouting saved my bacon, I'd say. Along with that talk about an investigation and unlawful imprisonment. Thanks." I hesitated, then asked the question that was niggling at me. "Don't get me wrong, I'm mighty glad you did it, but tell me, why did you go to all that trouble?"
Pace looked down at his drink for a moment, then up at me.
"The way I see it, Jess, I owe you – for firing that bullet at me out amongst the rocks." I suppose I looked surprised. Heck, I know I looked surprised.
"I did you a favor by shooting at you?" I asked. That was sure a first. But Pace was nodding.
"It brought me to my senses, Jess. When your bullet missed me by a hair's breadth, I realized how stupid I was being, risking my life for a few hundred dollars. I told Giles he could have the whole of the reward, and pulled out as fast as I could go. Didn't stop till my horse caught its foot in a rabbit hole and pulled up lame, over by the river, so I had to camp there until it recovered. But I'm as sure as I am of anything, that if I hadn't left then, I'd have ended up dead."
"Well, I'd say we're square then," I told him. Because I had a feeling he was right; I'd learned enough about Cully Brown for that. Pace smiled as we raised our glasses to each other.

We sipped our whiskey in silence for a moment, then Pace said,
"It wasn't a lot of trouble, anyway. To tell the truth, I kind of enjoyed doing some detective work again."
"Once a Pinkerton, always a Pinkerton," Sobey declared. Pace laughed but shook his head.
"No, I'll be glad to get back to my ranch. That is, if I still have a ranch." He looked sober. I remembered the mortgage payment he'd spoken about.
"Listen, both of you, this reward money, it should be split three ways. I wouldn't have been alive to deal with Cully if it wasn't for you two." Sobey shook his head.
"No, Jess. Thanks for the offer but I don't want bounty money, even second hand. I didn't do anything more for you than one person ought to do for another. Even then, it was Pace took the biggest risk – he was the one who went into the river after you. I just lent an extra hand pulling you out."
"Well, what about you, Pace? You said yourself, it wouldn't be bounty money, just paying back what Cully owed you. You'll take half of it, won't you? I sure hope you will," I added, "because I'm like you and Sobey. I don't want bounty money, just the two hundred I'm down because of Cully."
Pace thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes, Jess, I'll take it. Thank you. You're right; it's money you and I can honestly claim. But that still leaves three hundred. What are you going to do with that?"
"I don't know. I'll figure out something."
"The man Cully murdered in Denver – did he leave anyone behind?" asked Sobey.
"Yes, he did," said Pace. "A widow and a young boy. Three hundred dollars would be a help to them."
"I'll see that they get it," I said.
We rose to go.
"I'd better see Doc Bigelow before I leave town," I said. "I owe him an apology for holding a knife to his throat when I was getting out of jail."
"A mighty big apology, I'd say," agreed Sobey.
"What about you, Sobey," I asked him. "Where are you headed now? If you're looking for work, you could ride back to Laramie with me. I could recommend you to a couple of places."
"Thanks, Jess, but I think I'll make my way back to the Bar BJ and see if my job is still open."
"I think it will be," I told him. I was relieved. Bryan James wouldn't be struggling on alone after all.

I sent a wire to Slim; just said 'Delayed. On my way home. Jess.' Then Traveller and I got back on the road to Laramie.

Home sure looks good when there's been moments you thought you might never see it again. Slim and Mike were at the corral when I rode up and Daisy was shaking out some rugs on the porch. Mike came rushing over as I dismounted.

"Hey, Jess, where you been? We've been looking out for you for days. And all we got was that little telegram."
"Little is the word for it alright," said Slim, clapping me on the shoulder. "Delayed – that didn't tell us much. What happened?"

Aww no, am I gonna have to tell the whole story again?