Preface or a Young Man Comes to Work for his Pa's Former Boss
Before startin' in on this tale, I reckon I should tell ya a bit about myself so's you know who I am. Now, ma's always been ma, but pa didn't become pa until I was nearly eight and my brother Donald was a tad older 'en me at 12, 'bout the same difference in age as there is between pa and Uncle Magnus.
Anyways, pa met ma when he was sent to our little town of Maize, a spot on the road west of Wichita, to tell her how my first pa died durin' a cattle buyin' trip with Donald and bring the 50 head he'd bought to her. Once he got to our place he sorta hung around to help out cause of his good nature and cause he took a shine to ma. Turned out she felt the same, so he wrote his boss to say that he was quittin'. After a suitable time he and ma married and Donald and me took his name. Heck, he's been my pa for more than half my life and helped make me the man I am.
Growin' up, my pa kept talkin' 'bout this fella he worked for back when he lived out west of here and the gal the man was sweet on. Pa musta kept in touch with him, cause I found myself travelin' with him and ma to meet up with them. Pa was thrilled to be seein' them and his other friends from back then and to share it with ma and me. What I couldn't understand is why pa, who was about the same age and felt like a brother to this fella, still called him mister. To hear pa talk, the man was larger than life and it was an honor just to be noticed. When we got to where we was goin', I saw that he was a mighty big man, not just by reputation, but in height. He stood four inches taller than pa, who isn't exactly short, and was much broader than him. The man wasn't fat, just big and all muscle. His woman came up to just under his shoulder and was the prettiest redhead I'd ever gazed on. Fact is, I'd first met her at ma and pa's weddin', but I was too young for her to make the kind of impression a woman makes on a young man. What I do remember is she was mighty mad at her man for not accompanyin' her. I reckon she stayed in Wichita a week or so longer just to spite him. There was also this crotchety old man, the town doctor, who despite his ways, was a good friend to the two and pa and was also at the weddin'.
I reckon I should explain. I'm Albert Goode and my pa's Chester Goode. You probably guessed, if you know anythin' about these parts, that big man is Matt Dillon, the US Marshal, and his redheaded woman is Miss Kitty Russell who owns the Long Branch, the highest class saloon in Dodge City or anywheres else in western Kansas. One thing's for certain, I now know why pa still calls him Mr. Dillon and her Miss Kitty. It's 'cause there's nobody else in the world like 'em and I don't mean just his height and her bein' so pretty with that red hair and all. I'm right proud to be the second Goode to work for him, but that's enough about me 'cept to say that I was nigh on to 18 when he hired me. I'm just introducin' this yarn that spans about five years in the lives of Mr. Dillon, Miss Kitty, Doc and all the rest of the citizens in and around Dodge as well as any passin' strangers that might fit into the tale. Since the story begins afore I got there, I reckon Mr. Dillon and Miss Kitty should tell what led up to me comin' to Dodge with ma and pa and the parts after that only they knew about.