Pandora Hearts © Jun Mochizuki

...

"And that's how it happened, sir."

"I see," the mayor replied, languidly stirring his tea. "And the boys...?"

"Still bickerin' where I'd left 'em." Reim sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, resisting the urge to clean his glasses. "Although this time they was fightin' over who would've won, had there actually been a duel."

Mayor Barma smiled, suddenly looking far more interested than he had for the past ten minutes in which the sheriff had diligently recounted yestereve's visit to the Regnard Ranch. "And which one decided to place his bets on you, good Sheriff?"

Reim scratched his head. "I'm not entirely certain. At first it seemed like Eliot, but somehow it got all confused and switched up and they both changed their arguments several times over."

The mayor nodded, looking as if he had expected as much. (Which, knowing him, he had. He just liked hearing how he was right.) Gazing out the window nearest to his desk, the mayor sat back thoughtfully, fingers fiddling with a nearby fan. "So...," he mumbled to himself (Reim tipped forward just a bit closer to hear), "that's how it is."

Straightening, Reim asked, "How what is, Mr. Mayor?"

Barma's eyes refocused on the sheriff, returning from contemplative depths. But before he could articulate his reply, the door to his office slammed open and his wife stormed in with their daughter trailing behind.

Reim removed himself from Lady Cheryl's warpath and flattened against the wall. If her words were going to burn with as much fire as she held in her eyes, he didn't want to be any nearer for fear of vaporization. (The mayor, of course, remained unfazed, quite used to this sort of thing.)

"RUFUS!" Cheryl hollered while sitting Shelly into a nearby chair. "What's this I'm hearing about a man livin' at the Ranch?"

Reim blanched. That weren't supposed to've been made public yet. It must've been the boys. Looking at Shelly's expectant face twisted his heart, and he felt a surge of guilt for keeping the matter secret. So, while she was preoccupied listening for her father's forthcoming answer, Reim took the chance to steal outside and quietly shut the door behind.

Having nothing better to do, he saddled his horse and set off toward the Ranch, figuring he may as well set up some sort of surveillance and see if he couldn't learn something by the time Shelly came storming out at him.

The town was abuzz with gossip, rumors flying every which way. It was no wonder Lady Cheryl was angry as a hornet; with the types of things the townsfolk were saying, he would've been just as mad. But rumors were rumors, and he did the only thing he could do to stop them before somebody ran out there with a posse and demanded retribution in one way or another.

He stepped into the dark saloon and was pleased to find Jack behind the bar, whistling merrily as he wiped a tumbler. (Apparently Oscar had been nursing a hangover the day before: were it anything more serious, Jack would still be filling in for him at the store.) He gave the man a nod, and smiled as Jack beamed a greeting in return. He was filling a glass before Reim said anything. Noticing how it was from a pot of good, strong coffee, he decided not to decline. They brewed it strong here, to best suit Glen's tastes.

"What can I help you with, good sir?" Jack asked in his usual cheery way, eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Reim sipped his coffee. "You're smilin' awful bright this mornin'."

"Of course! I heard Regnard was back!" At this, his green eyes turned narrow and sharp, but if you didn't know the boy, you'd've never seen it. Jack was smarter than he led on to be, a trademark quality of the Belzarius family. All three of them were like that: Oscar, Jack, and Oz.

"He's not back at all, is he?" Jack asked.

Reim sighed. "No. But he looks just like him."

"This man...?"

"Break's what he calls himself."

"Break?" Jack's eyes blinked a bit, startled. "That's not a name from around here."

"No, and neither is he."

Jack laughed. "I see. I'll let Glen know, soon as he wakes up."

"How'd you know?" Reim asked with a small smile, finishing his coffee.

Jack winked. "Best way to stop a rumor is to shoot it dead."

Reim laughed. "Then I leave it to you, sir." He left a tip on the counter, knowing Jack wouldn't accept the whole fee, put his hat on his head, and with one last thanks again, he was out the door stepping into the sun.

...

The stranger minded his own. He didn't came to town for supplies, didn't harass anyone for money. He stayed out at Regnard's Ranch, quiet as could be.

The boys kept a good eye on him. The sheriff had asked for volunteers among the men of the town, and while he had received plenty of help, he had also ended up recruiting Eliot and Leo during the day when everyone else was busy going about their business. At least this way the boys were kept out of mischief. (They took right well after Ernest and Claude, sometimes. 'Cept these boys didn't need to get drunk before they caused a ruckus or got hurt. Like that one time they tried cow tippin'...Reim gave himself a headache just thinking about it.)

For the most part, the boys stayed out of trouble, having been given firm orders to go no nearer to the ranch than that watch-hill, and for the most part, they obeyed. (Unfortunately, there would come a time where they'd just up and refuse to listen...and Reim knew it was bound to happen sooner than later. Although he hadn't thought it would happen quite this soon.)

Three days into their surveillance, Eliot declared himself officially bored. That was fine by Leo; his patience was stretching to the limit, having been made to listen to Eliot's sighs and complaints every twenty minutes about how nothing happened around here, how the sun was too damn hot today, and if that blur had been a rabbit instead of a squirrel he'd've seen if he could've caught it.

It was with much relief that Leo sat straight up, fingers flying toward the Ranch. "Look, Eliot! I see something!"

Eliot's head whipped around. He narrowed his eyes against the glare of the sun and stared long and hard, assessing the lie of the land, monitoring every movement. He raised an eyebrow and turned toward his best friend. "I don' see nothin'," he said, blandly.

"Then you're an idiot," Leo grumped. "Look over there. Not by the house. Not even you can miss it twice."

Eliot resisted the urge to start an argument, knowing he could always pick a fight with Leo later. Now, however, something was happening and he didn't want to miss it. "Is that...a calf?" he asked, incredulous. "I thought all the cattle had run! This place's been empty for years!"

"I thought so too," Leo said. "Suppose we should ride down and tell the Sheriff?"

"Suppose so," Eliot said, and with a grin he added, "I'll ride down, but you do the tellin'."

"You aren't going down there without me," Leo replied. But Eliot wasn't in a mood to listen, having already started at a trot down the hill, making his way toward the ranch. Leo shook his head, following after, and in two minutes they had disappeared into the woods. They emerged on the other side, horses tethered and hidden much farther from the house than the place where the sheriff had left his own three nights before (the boys were smart; they learned right quick). Creeping around to the pasture took a lengthy amount of time, but with brows furrowed and clothing sweat-damp they made their way to the edge and peered inside the corral. What they saw almost caused a ruckus.

Eliot stood, rustling the trees and bushes which served as their hiding place, and was about to shout the words at the forefront of his brain, but Leo reached up with two hands and yanked hard on his belt; Eliot had no choice but to sit down in an indignant cross-legged heap.

"What?!" Eliot started, but the noise was muffled as one of Leo's hands clamped over his mouth and the other pushed his head down.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Leo hissed, pulling Eliot by the shirt collar, trying to stay low while moving behind a more solid defense than that afforded by mere leafy camouflage. If they had caught the stranger's attention, a bullet wouldn't hesitate a moment to rip through the greenery and possibly kill either of them for trespassing; the stranger could even say it was for 'stealing cattle'. Leo didn't allow Eliot to speak until they had scuttled away and back, turning their crawl into a run until they were hidden from sight by several hundred feet and more than a few good-sized trees.

"You...idiot!" Leo said again, keeping his voice low while he panted for breath. "What if he'd seen us?"

"So what?" Eliot retorted. "How...how the hell'd he get that many cows? He must've stole 'em!"

"Stolen, Eliot," Leo corrected absently before pushing himself upright. (Like most of the children, they'd received schooling influenced by the curriculum of the cities to the east. Eliot, from a high class family, had rebelled in his speech as soon as summer break started.) He was silent a moment, listening for any sound which would indicate they were being pursued.

Eliot chuckled. "Your ears ain't that good, Leo. I don' hear nothin'."

Leo shot his friend a dark look, but conceded. Eliot would know better than he. So Leo relaxed and looked around, judging the time by the position of the sun and the length of their tree-broken shadows. "We should get home," he said.

"You're still doin' the tellin' when we reach the Sheriff's place."

Leo scoffed. "Like hell. You're coming with me."

"Never said I wouldn't."

They trudged back to their horses as the late afternoon shone in a bright orange glow, darkening the world with elongated silhouettes. The boys left quietly, remaining alert and cautious, riding back to the hill and beyond before sundown. They were late, of course, and Reim could see from the bright smiles and scowls that they'd been up to something, so he pinched the bridge of his nose and cleaned his glasses before settling down to hear the story about the mysteriously appearing cattle, raising his eyebrows as Leo described Eliot's near outburst.

Surely, surely he must've heard, he thought. If he was Regnard, he would've known. He'd always known when somebody came to visit, no matter how quiet...Miss Shelly and I played that game for a long time and we never once won. Never once.

He glanced out the window, wondering if the boys had been inordinately lucky or if the man known as Xerxes Break had let them off. Had he let them see the cattle, let them spread the story? And if so...what was he trying to accomplish?

Reim had no answers.

And Break had no reason not to smile while he watched the children leave, having left a present in one of their saddlebags.

...