"Where you headed, cowboy?"
"Nowhere special."
"Nowhere special. I always wanted to go there."
"Come on."
The limo traveled for more than an hour, winding its way through foothills and into the mountains. Jim seemed a little nervous about the distance between the side of the road and the ground. The driver smiled a little into the rearview mirror as he took them around hairpin curves without slowing down. Finally, they descended into a valley and entered a small town. Main Street, which was comprised of roughly a dozen false-front buildings and new wooden sidewalks, cozied up along a swift-flowing river. A set of railroad tracks ran along the other side of the town.
"Well," said Bart, "this is mighty pretty. I think this will do just fine."
The limo driver pulled off the dirt road, got out, and opened Bart's door with a bow and a flourish. "Have fun!" he said.
"Thank you!" Bart and Jim said in chorus. The driver returned to his seat, started the car, and executed a neat U-turn, heading back the way they'd come.
"Did you see the look on his face when he drove away?" asked Bart.
"I did," said Jim.
"Think it means trouble?"
"Oh, I hope so," Jim replied. "I rather enjoy being the Waco Kid again."
"Well, come on then, Kid," said Bart, and they headed up the sidewalk toward the saloon.
The sounds of laughter, a heated disagreement, and a honky-tonk piano poured from behind the swinging doors to the saloon, but once Bart and Jim walked in, everyone swiveled in their direction, and the room went silent. In a far corner, a card player solemnly pulled a straight pin from his shirt cuff and dropped it on the floor; the sound was unnaturally loud.
"One… two…," Bart counted under his breath.
"I'm sorry," the bartender said, not looking sorry at all. "But we don't serve n-"
"Nice people?" Jim interrupted with a smile. "Well, that's too bad, because unless you're on the wrong side of the law, unless you're harming poor, innocent widows and children," growing enthusiastic, he let his voice fill the room, "unless you are the enemy of Justice and Freedom, there is no nicer man than Bart, who saved Rock Ridge during his term as sheriff there."
"You're the one who saved Rock Ridge?" asked a middle-aged man sitting at a nearby table. "Why, my sister is the school marm there. I know all about that!"
Bart did his best to smile as he remembered his encounters with Harriet Johnson. "Ye-e-e-s. I remember her," he drawled.
"Bartender, get these men whatever they care to drink. Drinks are on me!" the man exclaimed. The honky-tonk piano started up again as the man rose from his chair and escorted Bart and Jim to the bar. An assortment of card-players, mountain men, cowboys, and saloon girls crowded around them. When one of the girls leaned over Bart's shoulder, her cheek nearly brushing his, he turned his head in her direction.
"Please!" he said. "Give a hero some room." She backed off.
"What are you doing here?" the man asked Bart and Jim as they savored their drinks.
"We were ready for something else, so we thought we'd see what we could find," said Jim. It was easier than saying they had decided to go nowhere special - the townsfolk might not take kindly to that, though he supposed they could always say they were passing through on their way to nowhere special.
"Well, you're in luck!" the man exclaimed. "Old Gabby there," he jerked his head in the direction of a man who looked suspiciously like Gabby Johnson, "struck gold in a mine 'bout a mile from here, just this morning. Word'll get out afore long. You can try your luck before the others get here."
Gabby shouted something incomprehensible from his seat, but everyone ignored him.
"Gold, huh?" said Bart. "That sounds like 'something else,' alright. What do you think, Kid?"
"So it is the Waco Kid!" someone gasped from behind them. Jim gave Bart a sly smile.
"I think that sounds like just the thing," he said.
"Well, then, we'd better find ourselves a room," said Bart, stepping back from the bar, causing the crowd behind him to step back, too. "Think they'll let nice people stay in the hotel?"
"Oh, yes, sir!" said a small balding man who was part of the crowd. "Right this way, please!" He ushered them to the door and scurried down the street toward the hotel, Bart and Jim taking an easy pace behind him.