AN: Somethings going on with FF. I've gotten notice of several reviews and messages that don't show up here and the system won't let me reply to them. I apologize if I've not responded to anyone but it's not letting me.

On the way back to the Palace Hotel, Helmick explained to Kitty how he had come to be there in time to rescue her. "Honest, Miss Russell, I truly did just happen to be in the neighborhood. I may be financially solvent, but not all of my friends are and one of them lives in that area. I was coming from his place when I saw you going into that flea bitten dump and I admit; I was concerned for you."

"But how do you know who I am?" Kitty asked still not certain she believed him.

"I make it my business to know who I'm up against in a game of this magnitude." He answered. "When I found out that one of the players was a lady, I was normally curious so I had the hotel clerk point you out." He slid a smile in her direction. "I have to say, I wasn't disappointed."

"No offense, Mr. Helmick." Kitty rolled her eyes. "But I couldn't care less if you were or weren't. I am here to play poker, nothing more."

"Yes, Ma'am." He nodded. "But there's no one saying we couldn't combine business with pleasure."

"Yes there is." Kitty answered with a smug smile. "Me."

When they returned to the hotel, Kitty demurely shook Helmick's hand, thanked him for the assistance and the ride and then quickly made her way into the hotel. She was grateful for the man's help, and she didn't want to seem ungracious but she had no intentions of any sort of 'pleasure' with Ace High Helmick. That was reserved for someone else.

Helmick grinned as he watched her go. He could tell his valiant rescue and charm hadn't swayed her in his direction. But he wasn't quite ready to give in just yet. Kitty Russell was a very beautiful woman and Will 'Ace High' Helmick, certainly liked beautiful women.

As Kitty made her way to her room, she never noticed the short rotund man whose eyes were glued to her. Albert Brady was not a gambler in the traditional sense but he did wager his money when he felt the risk was worth it. The prospect of making a large sum of money on the upcoming poker tournament, seemed like a risk well worth it.

He had carefully checked out each of the players who owned a seat in the match and from what he could figure out, this woman and four others were the best of the best. Which one was the absolute best, he had to discover but he planned on finding out and then placing a considerably large bet on that player. Albert Brady intended to win.

While Kitty went to her room and Al Brady schemed, Matt stood outside of Dodge City's Train Depot and waited for the train to come to a stop. His unwanted guests were arriving and whether he wanted to or not, he had to greet them, host them and protect them as long as they were there.

When the train stopped, Matt watched the platform, finally seeing two eastern looking men, in expensive suits, stepping out and looking around. Pasting on a fake smile, Matt stepped forward and raised a hand. "Mr. Myers? Senator Pierce?"

"Marshal Dillon?" The shorter, fatter and better dressed of the two asked, after he took the cigar out of his mouth.

"I am." He nodded.

"Good to meet, Marshal." The taller and by far thinner of the two reached out and shook hands. "Senator Pierce and I are glad that you could take the time to show us around here."

"Uh, yeah." Matt looked a little curious. "I understand that you want to go round the area and need me to act as both tour guide and security. But what I don't understand is why? There's not much here, once you get outside of town."

"Oh, that's where you are wrong." Pierce answered. "I believe there is a great deal both in and out of town."

"Such as?" Matt asked with an arched brown.

"Well, for one thing, I wish to visit a place called the Long Branch." Pierce gave Matt a conspiratorial wink. "I've heard a great deal about the beautiful lady that runs it and I want more than anything to meet her."

Matt was bewildered. "You came all the way here to see a saloon and meet its owner?"

"Oh, of course not." Myers spoke up. "That is merely a side attraction for the Senator. What we are really here for is to explore the area outside of town. The government is thinking of putting a naval yard somewhere in this area and we need you to help us find the perfect place for it."

Matt, who had picked up both of the men's bags and was leading them to the wagon, he had waiting, instantly dropped the luggage and turned around to them with a stunned expression. "A naval yard? Here? In Kansas?"

"Yes." Myers and Pierce answered in unison.

"Is there some problem with that?" Pierce asked.

Matt stared at the two as though he was seeing two simpletons from an insane asylum. "Well, have you all looked around you? We're in the middle of the prairie, Gentlemen. There's not a body of water around here big enough to float a row boat much less any kind of ship."

Both men looked at each other and then looked at Matt with a nod of their heads. "We know." Myers answered. "That's why this is such a perfect place."

Matt wordlessly rubbed the back of his head. He couldn't believe his ears and he couldn't think of what to say. The idea was so ludicrous it was unbelievable. "It is?" He finally managed to ask.

"Of course!" Pierce answered as he clapped Matt on the shoulder. "You see, we're not going to be building ships for water here. We'll be building Wind Wagons or Prairie Schooners as some call them. Hence us calling the place to build them a naval yard."

"Wind wagons?" Matt repeated, feeling suspiciously like he was the being made the butt of some elaborate joke.

"Yes." Myers answered as though it was a perfectly sane idea. "Surely you've heard of them."

"Well, yeah." Matt shrugged. "But since when did the government decide to get into that kind of tom foolery? What good would it be to the government? You could never use them when the winds not blowing. And what would you use them for?"

"Well, those details still need to be worked out, Marshal." Pierce answered seriously. "And we will do that. But first we need to know if we can secure the perfect place to build them."

Matt shook his head at the two men, bent down and picked their bags back up. "Let me take you to the hotel, gentleman and then I'll show you around."

TBC

AN: According to the kansapedia website, a novel device of the Kansas territorial period was the wind wagon, sometimes called a sailing wagon or a prairie schooner. They were similar to an ordinary light wagon; weighed about 350 pounds; had a bed about three feet wide, eight feet long, and six inches deep; and were propelled by a sail or sails raised over the center of the front axle. When the breezes blew in the right direction the wagons were reported to skim over the prairies at about 15 miles per hour, with some speeds at up to 40 miles per hour. At least one wagon was reported to have traveled from Kansas City to Denver in a little more than 20 days. Believe it or not.