The saloon was quiet, deserted for the most part in the early afternoon hours, with only the bar keep, a bored looking and most likely apathetic whore, a gambler shuffling a deck of cards as he played solitaire and a large man sitting off in a corner nursing a beer. Vin Tanner took note of them all as soon as he walked through the bat wing doors slapping the trail dust from his buckskins with his hat. Walking up to the bar he ordered a beer.
The barkeep looked surreptitiously to his right before picking up a mug. "Been awhile since we had a buffalo hunter in here," he said innocently enough.
"Army scout," Vin volunteered and threw down his coin. Picking up the beer he retreated to a seat just to the left of the entrance.
"Care to chance your luck, stranger?" the gambler asked the newcomer as he adroitly shuffled the deck with only one hand.
The scout took one look at the obvious card sharp and replied with a snort, "No thanks. Think I'll hang on to what little luck, money and dignity I got."
Outside, the town in which Chris Larabee found himself was called Cold Water, was a non-descript conglomeration of weather beaten cobbled together buildings planted without much thought out in the desert. Chris looked up and down the main street. Yeah, this was it, he thought, the kind of town Buck Wilmington would favor. A town with more bars than churches and more whorehouses than homesteads.
Hitching his horse to the railing in front of the saloon, Chris walked slowly through the bat wings and stopped just inside the door. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness inside he surveyed the room and it's inhabitants but gave no hint of recognition to those he knew. As he walked up to the bar he noticed the lone occupant of a table off to his left but again completely ignored the man.
The bar tender glanced toward him and smiled like the cat that ate the canary as Chris bellied up to the bar already stinking of alcohol, his eyes red and bleary.
"Looks like you could use another drink," the barkeep said setting a shot glass down in front of Larabee.
He poured and Chris downed the shot quickly, efficiently and said, "Again…and leave the bottle."
Vin watched as the man in the corner nodded covertly and, as if on cue, the whore rose up out of her chair and crossed over to the gunman at the bar. He'd seen enough and finished his beer, placed his hat on his head and walked out of the bar while Ezra continued to play solitaire.
"You look kind of lonely, mister. Want some company?"
"What I want," Chris said pouring himself a third drink in as many minutes, "Is to get good and drunk."
A spark lit the whore's eyes and she smiled at him, "No wife to keep you on the straight and narrow? No tots to keep you tied down?" Chris looked at her incredulously and her eyes sparkled even more. This would be the easiest money she had ever made, and the quickest, she thought, as the drifter helped himself to more whiskey.
Turning toward the bar, the girl rubbed her ample breasts against Chris' arm and leaned in to speak to the bartender, "I'm thinkin' our friend here would rather have the good stuff, wouldn't ya hun," she finished and turned back to smile at him coquettishly .
"Sure," Chris said with a smile. He draped an arm over the woman's shoulder and added, "Nothin' but the best for me and my gal here."
"Belle, mister. My name's Belle."
"Well, Belle," Chris said eying the fresh bottle the bartender had set in front of him. He poured a generous amount and, holding up the glass, said, "Here's to the good stuff."
Ezra busted on three games of solitaire in a row all the while watching Chris throw back shot after shot until he was sure the gunman would pass out of his own volition and they would be no closer to finding out what had happened to Buck Wilmington than when they'd entered the town. But as he began to deal a fourth layout Chris Larabee suddenly doubled over and, even though he seemingly kept his eyes on his cards, Ezra saw the whore and the bartender hustle the clearly intoxicated gunman out a door behind the bar.
Unfazed, the gambler continued to turn cards with deliberation until the large slovenly man in the corner stood up and also exited out the back. Gathering up his cards Ezra now knew exactly how Buck Wilmington had come to seemingly disappear off the face of the earth. What they didn't know was to where but it seemed plausible that to find him, he and Vin had only to follow Chris Larabee.
