SOMEWHERE NEAR THE HAZEL MINE,
BETWEEN WHITE HORSE AND ALLANDALE
WEST AUSTIN, UNITED STATES,
EARLY SUMMER, 1899
It was cool, unseasonably cool, in the early summer of 1899. There was a tailwind, coming from the south that brought in soaking rain from the Galician community, through the New Mexican communities of the corn and cattle plains. The New Austin & Pacific Rail line had been finished since the mid-80s, but the rails were weakening under the constant drum of heavy trains and had to be redone in sections. Currently, work was being done on the section between Upland and Sierra Verde, where the ownership reigns were handed over to Southern Pacific.
The work in the early summer was the best work on the line. It wasn't too warm, hovering around 75 degrees in May/June, maybe one the worst of days climbing to 90. This year it stuck firm around 65. Most men on the line were farmers who couldn't farm, Indians who'd given up on the reserve, and Negros making their way. There was one failed farmhand, sleeping under a tree while the supervisor was eating in his tent. The boys on the line devised a system where they could get enough work done in a day even if one man took a two-hour break. They rotated happily each day to a new man, and today was Danny Moses' day. The workers always kept an eye on the supervisor's tent to watch for movement. Many times, the supervisor fell asleep too.
"Danny." Yelled a voice.
"Danny, Strickland's coming." The voice was running closer.
Danny roused from his sleep, looking up. The young black boy had run over the ridge of the hill and was descending quickly.
"He's only been gone a half hour." Danny replied in a low tone.
"Doesn't matter. Get your ass up the hill, now."
The boy grabbed Danny by the shirt and they ran up the side until they reached the spikes and hammers. Marshall Strickland, T&Ps man on the road, had an old watchful eye. That is, until he was bored.
"Boys, where are we?" The loud screech of Strickland's voice rang through the clanging of hammers.
"On schedule." One of the men replied. "Quarter mile a day so far."
"Very good, Mr. Bronson. Keep the pace going."
Each man on the line made $1/day if they were on schedule. If they were falling behind, the pay started falling behind. Suddenly the books got lost on the wagon, or Strickland forgot that day. Payroll was late, the list of excuses grew. It was hard for men not to dream and for a dollar a day the dreams don't last long.
Danny had reached his hammer just as Strickland started talking to Bronson. He took the hammer and began nailing a spike that was already down, further into its tie. He watched Strickland's eye; He wasn't paying attention to him. He reached and grabbed another spike, throwing it down the line to one of the Indians. The man caught it, placed it, and a negro slammed it into the tie with a long sledge.
"Keep moving boys." Strickland said, turning his rotund figure around and trotting down the hill towards his tent.
The men worked on the line until the sun was setting on the distant horizon, covering the land in a burnt crimson glow. The payroll wagon had rolled up to site, and every man quickly put his tools back on the supply wagon and ran to get in line. There was 26 of them in all.
The young negro boy who warned Danny earlier that day put his arm around Danny as they began walking back towards camp.
"I think you owe me 5 cents for saving yo' ass." The boy smiled. He was no more than 21. Danny was 5 years his senior.
"How 'bout I return the favour when its your day, and even delay Strickland while he gabs to Bronson. Oh wait. I did that on Tuesday."
"Fair enough." The boy smiled. "How's your sister?" His voice went cold.
"Not good. She's been coughing more and more. Bedridden almost every day. The medicine we need is 10$ a bottle. I just don't have the cash."
"No one's got that kinda money." The boy said. The twosome walked in silence towards the small township where the railroaders were staying. The sun had crested the earth and the moonlight was beginning to brighten the sky.
"Listen, I know you weren't asking, but I know a guy."
"No. No, Obee, no. I'm not getting involved in one of your confounded schemes."
"This ain't a scheme!" The boy shouted. "You ain't gonna make that money on the rails, you need a new source of 'income'" He said, emphasizing his knowledge of the word income.
"Listen, I'll cut back on the rations for a few weeks and I'll have enough. Emelia just needs to hold out until then. She can do it. She's strong."
"Wishful thinking, boy."
Danny turned and grabbed the young boy what remained of his shredded collar.
"You watch your mouth Obadiah Summers or I'll knock every one of those teeth out."
"Danny, calm down." The boy said, grabbing Danny's hands and throwing them from his neck. "You know what I meant."
The two men had reached the main dusty drag through the town and they were walking through the lamp-lit streets towards the saloon.
"I'm saying Emelia don't have much time, Danny. I'm giving you a way out."
They pushed through the swinging doors and went to the bar.
"Whiskey." Danny said to the tender. The man quickly placed a shot on the bar and filled it. Danny tossed the man 5 cents.
"Just a beer." Obadiah said. The tender gave him a stout brown bottle of warmish yellow liquid some consider to be beer. He drank it happily.
"I know, Obee. I know she don't have time."
There was a silence between them.
"I have a cousin. Working outta San Denee."
"Oh yeah? What's he do?"
"They do a lotta things. Depends what needs doing."
"That sounds promising." Danny muttered, drinking his shot and lighting a poorly rolled cigarette.
"I don't know exactly what they do." Obee drank his beer. "I know he's making a lot of money, enough to ride a horse and have some nicer clothes. I know he has enough to take care of things."
"There's only one kind of money that they make, Obee."
"I know, Danny. I know what kind of money it is. Why you think I'm in backwater New Austin and not in Bayou Nwa, strikin' rich?"
"You're a good man, that's why."
Both men smiled, clinking their drinking glasses together. The pair ordered a few more drinks to finish the day, swirling around drunk on cheap whiskey and beer by the end of the night. They stumbled out of the saloon close to midnight, making their way for the small encampment off the southern edge of the town where all the other workers had set up canvas tents, some no larger than a closet for sleeping in. Obadiah broke off to walk towards his small tent, and Danny turned to go to his. Inside, Danny's younger sister Emelia Moses was laid out on a canvas cot, covered in sweat. She was in a night dress and was fast asleep. Danny slept on the ground, on a Hudson's Bay blanket from Upper Canada. He leaned over to check her temperature and it was higher than normal.
"Another fever" he muttered. Things were not looking good for Emelia. Some said it was TB, others, the pox, others said it was some plague. No doctor could give a straight answer without a few dollars in hand; a few dollars more than Danny ever had. She coughed briefly, a hoarse loud cough, and then slept. She hadn't much touched the food he'd left out in the morning for her. Crackers, bread, and some canned Offal. She touched the bread only. She needed the Offal.
Danny didn't sleep well, and he hadn't since he and Emelia took ill. Every sneeze, cough, hiccup, had him worried it would be her last. Especially since she started declining quickly. Obadiah would come over frequently to help Danny look after her, but the hours on the line were long and hard. Some quit, some died. It was a losing man's game. Danny was fed up after a year of it.
The night droned on. And on. Emelia coughed occasionally and breathed heavily. Her once beautiful face was gaunt now, and she was pale. Her bright blue eyes had faded to a dull grey and even the luster in her hair was gone.
The sun started rising. Obee came to the tent shortly after the crack of dawn.
"Mornin'" He said, opening the tent and leaning in. Emelia was awake and staring at the canvas wall. She quickly slipped under the covers.
"Obee! I ain't decent." She smiled lightly.
"All the better" He laughed, sitting down beside Danny. "Get up, boy. Got work ahead of us."
Danny was silent.
"Boy! I said get up, we gotta start walkin'."
"I ain't walkin'" Danny sat up.
"Who died and gave you all the monies then?"
"I'm going to St. Denis. To meet your cousin."
"You serious?" Obadiah said, perplexed. "Just yesterday you was…"
"I know what I was saying yesterday. But that was yesterday, and today's today."
"Well shit." Obee stood. "It's gonna take a few days to get there, that's by horse."
"The train runs out of Camacho, and if I can't catch it there, I'll go to St. Martins. I know I can catch one there than runs all the way to St. Denis."
"Well… yeah I guess that works too. Still gonna take us a while."
"Us?" Danny said, putting on his coat.
"You won't last a day down in the Bayou. If the people don't get you, the crocs will. You don't even know where my cousin is."
"Then we're all going."
"I can't go." Emelia said quietly.
"We don't have a choice Em."
There was a brief silence.
"We don't have anything holding us back."
"Except money." Emelia chimed in, coughing lightly. "We live in a tent for a reason."
"I have some savings. We'll sell the tent and the cot. It'll be enough to get us to St. Denis I think. We're on our own after that." Danny started folding up his bed.
"I'll talk to people. I think they'll be some oritentals coming in on the 7:30 to help us." Obee peered outside of the tent, and then popped out quickly.
"Daniel." Emelia said. "You shouldn't do this."
"Ain't got a choice, Em." He turned to face her. "You ain't getting better. I gotta do something."
"I'm just happy here—" she coughed. "With you and Obee. I know my fate."
"Stop talkin' like that." Danny sputtered angrily. "You don't know anything about that."
"How many doctors we gotta visit before you get it through your head?" Her eyes fired up and some blue returned to them. "I'm dyin'."
There was a long silence.
"I read about a medicine you can get in the big cities—"
"Not another one of these elixirs." Emelia scoffed. "We tried that before and its all snake oil salesmen in shiny suits." She stood slowly, wrapping her blanket. "Now get. I'm getting dressed."
The sun began to rise further into the sky. Before the hour was out, Obee came trudging back to the camp, some dollars in hand.
"Sold it to the ticketmaster." Obee said, catching his breath. "The tent I mean. Long run back to camp. I also stopped by the rails and told Bronson and Strickland we wouldn't be comin' in."
"What'd he say?" Danny smiled.
Obee did his best impression of the overweight, boisterous man.
"You boys don't come in, you're fayahd!"
"And?"
"I just shrugged and walked away." Obee laughed loudly. Danny and Emelia did too.
It was a long walk to the Camacho station, almost 2 hours on foot from tent city. Emelia made slow progress behind the two boys who had now dressed in their nicest clothes which were dusty dark shirts and vests. Danny had a pair of red and black preacher boots he wore proudly, and Emelia was wearing her working pants and a frumpy grey shirt. With how thin she was, some might assume she was a young choir boy. Danny carried her in his arms for some portions as long as he could as they walked along the rail tracks past White Horse, Flatland, and finally ending up at Camacho. The train was about 20 minutes out when they arrived. Obee went to the ticketmaster about the tickets and purchased three one-ways to "San Denee" for a little under 10$. The tickets had cleaned them out lest a few dollars spare change for food. Danny forced Emelia to eat some of the bread he'd packed from their stay in tent city, and she did reluctantly. Obee gave her some salted and dried venison to eat as the train left the station.
The trip to St. Denis was uneventful. The train stopped frequently to load and unload passengers and continued without interruption past 9pm. They stopped once for water and coal in Spruce Mills and then again outside of Rosaline once they'd neared the border of the state of the Lemoyne. The train pulled into St. Denis close to midnight, 2 days after their departure from the Allendale tent city settlement. Emelia was enjoying the scenery change, and because she was forced to eat with Obee and Danny at her side, she was in better health and spirits than before. Danny was pleased with himself. He helped Emelia down from the car and they walked through the main entrance of the station and onto the electrically lit street. There were a few people walking by, especially heading towards the saloon up the main road where music was roaring through the doors.
"I know the tender at that saloon." Obee said, pointing. "He was a good friend of my families before we moved west. Jed's his name. Honest man. He'll probably know where my cousin is."
Danny nodded and loaded the rucksack with all their belongings onto his back. Obee lead the way up the road, past the newsboy, and under the shades of many new businesses.
"This town's something else." Em smiled, her eyes aglow under the electric filaments.
"Don't you go falling in love, Miss Emelia." Obee said. "The town'll swallow you whole."
"I think it has." Danny chuckled.
The threesome pushed into the bar where some lively music was keeping some people dancing on a raised platform to the right of the entrance. There were some gentlemen gathered around a poker table near the door, and some ladies looking for gentlemanly company near the pillars by the stairs. The man playing the piano forte was a negro himself, perhaps in his 30s, dressed very smartly, with a near bald head and an heir of intensity about him. A little sign sat on the piano and it said "The Tapper from Texarkana" on it. He was playing a joyful tune, jumpy and exciting. Danny and Obee walked directly for the bar while Emelia broke off to go talk with the gentleman at the piano.
"Mighty fine music you're playing." She said to him as the song concluded.
"You think so, Miss?"
"Sure do." She grinned. "You are a real virtuoso."
"Virtuoso!" The man chortled. "Now that's a word. You sure have a vocabulary Miss—?"
"Emelia." She reached out to shake his hand. The man looked confused for a moment, but gladly shook her hand, looking around in case others had seen it. "Emelia Moses. I read many books"
"Of this, I have no doubt. Moses' a fine name too. Good strong biblical name."
"Thank you." She curtsied. "Your music is truly beautiful. What's that tune you played called?"
"I don't know!" He laughed. "I just wrote it a few weeks ago."
"I think it sounds like a maple leaf blowing joyfully in the wind!" Emelia fluttered her hand.
"A maple leaf hey?" The man said. "Now that's somethin'"
"Do keep playing, Mr—?"
"Folks 'round here call me Scott."
"Mr. Scott."
He smiled to her, "Thank you, Miss Moses."
On the other side of the bar
"Glad to see you boy!" Jed the tender shouted over the fanfare of the bar. He was in the middle of pouring a drink for a tall burly man. "What brings you all the way back to the bayou?"
"Just wantin' to see the family." Obee smiled. "This is a friend of mine, Danny Moses."
"Mr. Moses." Jed reached out, shaking Danny's outstretched hand.
"Pleasure."
Obadiah tossed a quarter onto the bar. "two whiskeys."
"it's 25 cents for one here, boy." Jed smiled. "But for ole friends. It could be two."
Obee smiled. "Listen, Jed. I'm lookin' for Lenny. You seen him?"
The tender looked around suspiciously.
"Yeah, I seen him. He came 'round here a few days ago. A few men with him. Not the kinda men you wanna fall in with, Obay."
"I know, Jed. I just need some help from him is all."
The tender leaned in, and Obee and Danny followed suit.
"They staying out by the Shady Belle, that ole run down plantation house on the outskirts o' San Denee. You know where that is?"
"Yeah, I 'member." Obee looked around slowly, scanning the room. He could see Emelia coming back from the piano man.
"Be careful, boy. They's in some deep trouble with ole Angelo Bronte."
"Angelo Bronte?"
"Don't say his name so loud." Jed warned. "Yeah that pressed-up Italian who owns the city."
"Okay. So they in trouble?"
"They will be if they aren't already." Jed leaned back.
Danny and Obee looked at each other with worry.
"Listen, you boys can stay the night in the extra room upstairs. It's open, and we already closed the reservations. Just don't sleep in the bed, sleep on top of it. And make no noise. Ya hear?"
"Thanks Jed." Obee smiled brightly. Emelia had reached the group now.
"Jed, this is Emelia Moses."
She curtsied quickly and smiled.
"Pleasure. Now get." Jed whipped his wiping rag.
"So where are we going?" Emelia said, following Obee and Danny as they made their way up the stairs past the Tapper from Texarkana, who was busy at another face paced tune.
"Staying the night here, and setting out tomorrow for the outskirts. Obee, you let me sleep on the bunk in the train. You can sleep beside Emelia on the bed. Under my very watchful eye."
Emelia blushed lightly and laughed.
"I wouldn't try anything on Miss Emelia. Wouldn't dream of it."
They settled into the small room on the second floor of the saloon. It was directly across from a bath which cost a nickel and some time that none of them had. Luckily, they still had some food and Jed sent up some crackers, sliced meat and cheese as compliments. Emelia went down at 1:30am to personally thank him, and she returned momentarily later. The threesome slept soundly in the night, the rag piano playing them through the late crowds downstairs
The following morning was another early rise. Danny was woken up from under his hat by a tap from Emelia.
"We should head out before the maid comes to inspect the rooms." She said quietly. Danny nodded and hopped up, poked Obadiah in the stomach and relayed the idea. Obee agreed, getting the rucksack from the small chair and placing it on his back. The trio left the landing quietly, made their way through the empty saloon and out the front doors. The streets were sparsely populated, a few horse-drawn carts were being wheeled around, and the sun was cresting over the horizon.
"Thought I'd catch you before you leave." A low voice spoke from behind them. Jed was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. His apron was already on, dirtied with what looked like beef sauce or blood. Jed stepped down towards Obee, reaching for his hand. Obee reached to shake it and Jed placed a 5$ bill in his hand. "Use this for a buggy. It's a long walk to the edge of town. No sense wasting the day. Use the rest for food."
"Thank you, Jed." Obee looked up to his dark eyes. "Thank you."
"You come back now, ya hear?" Jed turned and walked back to the bar. "Mr. and Miss. Moses. You keep this boy outta trouble now." Jed smiled.
"We will." Emelia said. "With difficulty." She coughed a few times.
Obee grabbed their shoulders and pushed them onto the cobbles where they began looking for a buggy for rent. Down the hill, near the station a young boy, no older than 16, was waiting on a two-wheel operation.
"Where you going?" Danny started.
"Wherever." The boy replied, not looking back.
"You know the Shady Belle Plantation?"
"I'm familiar." The boy turned.
"Take us there, I'll give you 2$."
"Make it 3$. A dollar each." The boy said.
"Alright." Danny replied. Obee gave him 3$ and they boarded the little wagon.
"Hee-yah!" The boy shouted at the single horse, snapping the whip. The Clydesdale jumped up from his morning daydream, spun around and they headed towards the edge of the city. The roads were empty and so they moved faster than usual.
Emelia was watching the buildings pass her by; she hadn't been to the city since she was a child with her and Danny's parents. They were entering weaving through the industrial sector, a big warehouse on their left spelled C-O-R-N-W-A-L-L in tall white letters.
"Who's that?" Emilia asked.
"Cornwall?" The young driver-boy replied. "The richest sum bitch west o' Cleveland. Cornwall Tar and Kerosene?"
"Oh." Emelia mumbled.
"Leviticus Cornwall pretty much owns this town, him and Angelo Bronte. They control that idiot mayor like a puppet." The boy continued.
The buildings continued to fly by until they reached a meeting of roads and a steel truss bridge. St. Denis was written in wrought iron letters above it. After passing over the river they heeded left and moved farther and father from the bustling city and the smoke, heat, and people fell into obscurity. The hot, wet air clung to them like slush from the washboard. The mosquitoes began buzzing and the smell of swampy earth filled their nostrils. They continued another while as the brush got thicker and the road got smaller.
Suddenly the boy slowed up.
"Wo-aw" He pulled the reigns tightly on the horse. The Clydesdale dug its heels into the Peet moss.
"We're here. This road leads down to the bell. Although, I'd turn back now if I were you. The last time I was here, the Raiders owned this place."
"We'll be fine." Obee smiled. "My charm will tame them."
The driver-boy laughed.
"Good luck." He shouted.
Obee grabbed Emelia by the waist and lowered her down, he then reached for Danny's hand and pulled him off the wagon. The rucksack was still on his back. The trio moved down the road slowly, towards the dilapidated bricks that once were the front entrance to a massive sugar plantation.
At once there was movement. From behind the brick wall a man popped out holding a 30-30 in his hands and pointing it quickly towards them on the approach.
"State yo' business." He said. He was a negro, dressed in a white shirt, grey coat and black pants. Obee's smiled widened.
"I'm here to meet a fool." He replied walking closer, Emelia and Danny trailing behind.
"Then you're in the right place." The man replied, keeping the gun raised.
"Is Lenny Summers still here?"
"You're looking at him, who's inquirin''?"
"Obadiah Summers."
Lenny lowered the gun quickly, a broad smile crossing his face.
"My dimwit cousin." Lenny ran towards Obee and they embraced tightly, the gun swinging around his back. "Good to see you brother."
"Good to see you too." Obee said. They released from their embrace slowly, Lenny caught eye of Danny and Emelia. "Lenny, this is Danny and Emelia Moses. Brother and sister."
"Pleasure to meet you." Emelia said cordially.
"And a pleasure right back." Lenny smirked. "You didn't tell me you had such beautiful friends."
Emelia blushed but pushed past the men. Danny scoffed.
"Let me bring you to meet my fellow fools as we lie low in this private hell hole." Lenny grabbed Obadiah by the shoulder and put his arm around Danny. "Gentlemen, this is a garbage dump to rival all dumps. This is Gehenna at her finest. And Mr. Van der Linde likes it that way." He laughed.
They all walked slowly through the property, past the horses near the front and ended up near the firepit to the right of the big house.
"Dutch." Lenny called out. There was a brief silence followed by a side door opening on the house. A tall man with charcoal hair and mustache emerged, stretching as he exited. He was wearing a black bowler hat, a red vest and black pants. A cigar was dangling from his mouth.
"You called, son?" He began walking over to Lenny.
"Dutch, this my cousin, Obadiah Summers."
The young man moved to meet the older with an outstretched hand.
"Fine piece o' land you got here, Mr. Van der Linde."
"Don't you lie to me son, it's a shithole." He smiled broadly, shaking Obee's hand. "Enough of one that dear Uncle Sam doesn't have a care for us here."
"I like it. Miss the old swamp." Obee said.
"An who might your compatriots be?" Dutch asked.
"This is Danny Moses and his sister, Emelia."
"Well it is a pleasure to meet a fine woman such as yourself." Dutch took Emelia's hand and kissed it. He then outstretched his hand and shook Danny's. "And what would a fine young bunch such as yourselves be doing here?"
"I'll speak frankly, Mr. Van der Linde." Danny spoke up.
"My friends call me Dutch."
"Dutch. Emelia is sick. She's got something awful. There's medicine some of the doctors think will help, delay—things."
"I see." Dutch replied. "And you want some money to help her."
"No, well not exactly—" Danny stuttered. "I was hoping you might have some work for me. Obee tells me you have a hard working ga—group."
Dutch stood silently, looking down on the young trio.
"We are a hard-working family, we stick together." Dutch began. He moved around the fire, looking off towards the front gates. "You can stay with us, but be warned, son. We do expect returns, you understand me?"
"Yes, sir." Danny replied.
"We will provide the utmost care to your sister, she can stay here, with Ms. Gaskill. She's under the wagon over there." Dutch pointed for Emelia's sake. "Ms. Moses, I hope you understand my sending you off now. I need to share frank words with your brother and friend. I don't wish you to hear them."
She nodded, curtsied, and then made her way away from the men. Mary-Beth stood upon seeing her and smiled, welcoming her with open arms, and providing a seat by a smaller fire surround.
"We require complete and unquestioning loyalty here." Dutch looked to Danny and Obee, switching to follow their eyes. "If you have any disputes, bring them to myself. We settle things like gentlemen here, we don't let foolish arguments get out of hand. We require a 40% cut of all your earnings, it goes into a box which I have set in a safe location; closeby, but not close enough that prying hands could steal it away."
Dutch turned motioning for the boys to follow him. They walked around the fire and entered the big house through the side door.
"The longer you stay, the more money you bring in, the less of a cut we require. Now, I have a plan—" Dutch said as they entered the living room. A large table was set out with a map of St. Denis, pencils, a bunch of papers and letters, as well as an inkwell. "A plan that will get all of us out of this terrible state, and no I don't just mean Lemoyne." He smiled.
A middle-aged man in his 40s walked through the egress into the room. He was wearing a denim jacket, a black leather hat, and was clean shaven except for a well-trimmed mustache. He wore worn black work pants and preacher boots, similar to Danny's but with beautiful ornate brass spurs.
"Dutch, I'm headin—" The man hesitated. "Who are these people?" He said in a low gravely voice.
"Danny, Obadiah, meet Arthur Morgan, a son of mine."
Arthur reached out his hand and shook their hands swiftly.
"Listen, I'm going out, to help Eagles Flies with something. He's asked for my help. It's a bit of a trek, we're meeting in the hills near Valentine."
"Need help?" Dutch asked.
"I guess." Arthur replied.
"Danny, why don't you go with Arthur? Give you a chance to learn some of the ropes. You can ride a horse, right son?"
"Yeah. It's been a while but yeah." Danny said.
"Good." Dutch said. "Obadiah, you and I can go over a few things. We have a little bit of an operation coming up and I'll need all the hands I can get. I'm sure you'll also want some campfire time with Lenny."
"Sure thing, Mr. Van der Linde." Obee said.
"Now what I say about my name? It's Dutch, alright?" He smiled.
"Alright then. Let's go." Arthur motioned to Danny to follow him. They walked out the front doors and down the path until they reached the horses. Arthur put his foot into a golden stirrup and brazen saddle on a beautiful white Arabian.
"Wow. He's beautiful." Danny said, standing by.
"He's a she." Arthur said. "Harlow's her name. Been with me a few months. Fastest thing I've ever been on." He smiled, patting her neck. "Atsa girl. You can ride Pearson's horse. His name's Waller. The big brown idiot over there." Arthur pointed to a large, tall work horse.
"I'll bet he's slow as molasses in January." Danny muttered.
"Slower. Just like his owner." Arthur chuckled, then coughed a few times. "He's real gentle though."
Danny approached the horse cautiously. It didn't seem frightened in the least. The horse turned to face him, then looked on as he pulled the reigns from the post and took a near running jump at the stirrup to get onto the steed.
"You good with a gun?" Arthur asked as they set out down the path.
