Blackwater Saloon, September 17, 1911
Archer Fordham and Edgar Ross entered the saloon, laughing jubilantly at the defeat of Dutch van der Linde and his gang of outlaws. They had just finished filing their reports about the incident at the police station, and they were celebrating a job well done. To them, the death of Van der Linde meant the end of organized crime in West Elizabeth. The pair reached the bar, and the bartender, Milford Weaver, looked at the men and recognized them immediately. He smiled and asked them what they wanted.
"I'll take a shot of your finest whiskey," Ross said, taking his hat off and placing it on the bar. "Archie will have the same." Milford reached into one of the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of fine Jack Daniel's whiskey. He then pulled out a couple shot glasses, placed them on the counter, and poured the liquid into the glasses.
"Gentlemen, these are on the house," Milford said, smiling. "I assume this means you got Van der Linde?"
"Yes, sir," Fordham responded. "Dutch van der Linde is dead, Bill Williamson is dead, and Javier Escuella is on trial for his crimes."
"That's good to hear," Milford said. "Now enjoy your drinks."
"Thank you, Mr. Weaver," Ross said, quickly downing his shot. Milford immediately grabbed the glass from the counter and wiped it down.
"So, Edgar, what are our plans now?" Archie asked. "The Van der Linde gang is gone, which means West Elizabeth is free of organized crime."
"Well, I say we should handle the crime in New Austin," Ross responded. "Recent reports from the marshal in Armadillo say that the Walton Gang has a new leader, and a group of Mexican banditos is occupying Fort Mercer."
Fordham drank his shot of whiskey and responded, "That sounds fair enough. So who's leading the Walton Gang now?"
"Oh, just some youngster. I think his name was Lowell, or something like that. Don't worry, they don't seem like much of a threat. Most of them are just pathetic drunks anyway."
"And the banditos at Fort Mercer?"
"Those banditos won't be too difficult to drive out. Fort Mercer was well off when it was first built, but it's falling apart now. They're not very well protected."
"You have a point there, sir," Fordham said. "Are there any other gangs?"
"The Bollard Twins are still around, but they won't be much of a threat on account of that marshal's raid on Pike's Basin about a month ago. The twins who lead that gang escaped the raid, but they're having a hard time recovering from it."
"Is that all?" Fordham asked. "That should take no time at all."
Ross removed a cigar from his jacket, struck a match against his pants, and lit the cigar. He then threw the match down and stomped it out. "Blood will be shed, Archie," Ross said after taking a puff. "But it won't be much trouble."
Just then, Milford returned with two bottles of whiskey. He handed one to each of the Bureau agents and said, "These are for you. Consider this a thank you for clearing West Elizabeth of its vilest criminals."
Archie smiled. "Thank you, Milford. You should consider giving a bottle of whiskey to John Marston. He helped us a great deal."
"I'll consider having a bottle delivered to his house," Milford said.
"You should. That man is a true patriot," Fordham said proudly.
"True patriot my ass," Ross muttered under his breath.
Despite his being quiet, Fordham still heard him. "What was that, sir?" Fordham asked.
Ross took another puff of his cigar and vilely said, "You speak of John Marston as some kind of hero. The man is nothing but outlaw trash."
Fordham was surprised at Ross's opinion of John, as was Milford. "That Marston man isn't half bad, Mr. Ross," Milford said. "He came in here a few times while he was assisting you, and he was telling me of his family and his travels through New Austin and Mexico. I tell you, many a man has come into my saloon, and those many men have spun many yarns, but Mr. Marston..."
"That's enough," Ross said, lifting his hand as a signal for Milford to stop talking. "Will you excuse us, Mr. Weaver?" Milford left respectfully.
"Look, I will not deny that John has done some acceptable work for the Bureau," Ross continued, "but how many crimes did he commit while working for us? He stole a deputy's horse at Benedict Point, he killed a number of Mexican soldiers while in Mexico, and based on eyewitness reports he almost killed Javier Escuella." Ross took yet another puff of his cigar.
"Mr. Ross, you're forgetting the good that John has done for this country," Fordham argued calmly. "He helped the New Austin police force take down the Williamson gang, he stopped the fighting in Mexico, he didn't kill Escuella, and he is responsible for the death of Dutch van der Linde."
"Van der Linde killed himself, Archie," Ross said coldly. "Mr. Marston didn't have the guts to shoot him. And who's to say that John won't return to a life of crime? Who's to say he won't eventually join up with a gang, or even start one himself?"
"You're being unreasonable, Mr. Ross..." Fordham began.
"No, you're being unreasonable, Fordham," Ross hissed. "John Marston is a menace to society and must be dealt with."
"I thought so too, but after our run-in with Van der Linde, I could see some kind of change in him," Fordham said. "He's a farmer now. He and his family are as much of a threat to West Elizabeth as you and I are."
"You're naïve if you believe that," Ross said.
"You're naïve if you think Marston hasn't changed," Fordham said angrily.
"We must be prepared for all possibilities. If Marston were to return to the outlaw life, it may be difficult to bring him in. If we strike now, we can prevent a tragedy before it begins." Ross threw down his cigar and stomped it out.
"What do you mean, 'strike'? Do you want to kill John Marston?"
Ross was silent for several seconds, but finally responded with, "We will discuss this later. We shouldn't discuss this in a public place."
"I understand, sir," Fordham said. "Should we return to the station?"
Ross grabbed his hat from the bar and put it back on his head. "Not now, Fordham. It's getting late and I must be getting home to my wife. But we will discuss this tomorrow in my office." The two men left the bar, and Milford emerged from his hiding place where he had been eavesdropping, shocked and confused by what he had just overheard.