10. Almost at the finish

"You've been bathing for 10 minutes."

A difficult to understand muttering sounded behind the wood wall of the shower cabinet.

Stump, Chorizo and Bill were waiting that their companion Kinski would finish his washing process. With great difficulty they had managed to calm him down, after they had caught him up on his escape race. When he had talked about his experience in the wellness club, the others burst out in a guffaw.

With red head the still-in-dress rabbit made his way to the next shower house. It was a luck for him that he could walk into the men's shower cabinet with no other man inside.

Quickly he removed the dress and wig, and jumped behind the shower screen where he soaped himself hearty from top to bottom.

"How long do you intend to rub your hair?" Stump asked. "I thought, you said, he didn't touch you…"

A wet, angry face looked out from the shower.

"Call it what you will," Kinski growled. "It made me wanna – PUKE!"

The face disappeared quickly; the shower started again, closely followed by a loud burble.

"You should feel flattered for that," Chorizo smirked and a gush of water sloshed on his hat.

"Do me the sincere favor and never speak it out again," a warning voice threatened.

Bill had a derision on his lips, but he preferred to keep silent.

At last, a hand reached for a big towel which hung next to the cabinet and wrapped up a drenched rabbit. With clicks under his feet, Kinski left the shower cabinet and rubbed his fur wildly like after coming out of a virus contaminated area.

"I will never wear female clothes again," he grunted.

Finally, he took off the towel and glared at Stump with venomous look. "NEVER AGAIN!"

He pushed him away and made his way to his familiar man street clothes.

"Alright," Bill ended his protest. "At least we have a name."

"Indeed," Stump said and rubbed his hurting back. "But where should we find him? And do you think he is the mastermind?"

"I don't think so," Kinski's muffled voice sounded when he was putting on his pullover. "Blacky Mary said, that he never made a criminal job alone. Possible that he is just a confidant or an accessory."

"Well, better than nothing," Bill closed and went to the exit.

"Where do you want to go?" Stump asked.

The Gila monster reached for the door. "Asking someone who knows a lot of people in this town."


The saloon was much fuller than he had been in the noon. Now it was in the afternoon. A hurry-up-moment how Kinski it called.

Bill walked between the overfilled tables and watched out for a special person.

"Hey, tall fellow," a female voice cried at him.

A saloon lady beckoned him over who sat on a lap of a man and Bill came closer.

"If you are looking for your friend," the lady continued. "He is absent."

"Where?"

The girl chuckled. "There where he spent the most time of his life."


"Of course, where else."

With crossed arms, the Gila monster eyed the jail building of Primrose Town. It was bigger than the sheriff office in Dirt.

"Uh, what now Bill?" Stump asked and fanned himself with his hat.

"We could ask whether we could pay a visit," Chorizo muttered.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Bill slapped over his forehead.

"You forget our wanted posters which decorate many sheriff walls. They will lock us up immediately."

Kinski agreed. "Yeh, so stupid like a dog would walk into the house of the dog catcher."

Bill waved his hand. "No, we have to take another way, without landing behind bars."

"Oh, and where is that auspicious place?" Stump asked.

The lizard snorted and went aside. "There is always a place to get some fresh air. Even in a jail."

Carefully and on tiptoes they sneaked along the house wall until they reached the first barred window of a jail cell in the back yard.

Bill peeked in and cried quietly inside. "Clark?"

A snorting sound replied. "Wh-at – what is… is that you m-mother?"

"Oh, pardon."

Bill went on, after he just saw a drunken bird who was sleeping off.

The second cell was empty. But in cell three…

"Clark? Hey!"

The old lizard, who was laying on a bench in the jail cell, sat up and leaned against the wall with a smile.

"Oh, oh, hi, Billy, little dodger."

"What sort of things are you doing?" Bill asked through the bars.

"Oh, I wanted to borrow a new hat. But we couldn't agree with the costlession. Well."

He lay down again, his hands crossed on the back of his head.

"Never mind. I will make vacation in this house for a few days. But don't mind. At least I have a roof over my head and it helps me to come away from my rum problem."

He chuckled hoarsely.

Bill shrugged his shoulders. "No problem. We just came to ask you for something."

"Every time. So shoot."

"Do you know a name Jeanny Thomson?"

"Jeanny? Thomson? Jean, Jeff, Jeanna, Jenno, Jeo, Jenna, Jeanny… Tom… Thomso, Thomsen, Thomson… aha… Not the friendliest guy. Not a bad fellow, but very capricious. And dumb as a sack of hammers."

He smirked.

"And, do you know where he is living?"

"Mm, in a small Hicksville, not far away from Primrose Town. Rio Seco."

"Thanks buddy."

"Hey, no probs."

Bill leaned back and was going to walk away. "Good luck for a new hat."

Clark waved his hand thankfully. But suddenly he lifted his head and sniffed.

"Hey, is a lady with you? It smells so good. Is that Nuit d'amour?"

Kinski sniffed on his shirt and gave the grinning Stump a slap in the face.


"I really wonder what the green lizard will say about our work," Chorizo cried against the wind.

They had already left the city and rode through the desert.

"Yeah, it was so easy," Stump agreed.

"You haven't the faintest idea," Kinski grunted darkly.

"It must be over there!" Bill pointed ahead where a group of houses were visible.

"Now we will find out more."

"I can't wait," Stump said with excitement.

The four gunslingers rode closer. Shortly before the town they decrease the pace.

"Hey, do you hear that?"

Kinski pricked up his ears.

"What should we hear?" Stump asked in surprise.

"Listen."

They stopped their roadrunners and listened carefully.

First, there has been just the sound of the wind, but then… Regular drumbeats echoed through the air.

Their glances drifted to the little town.

Bill gave them a sign and together they rode between two houses and came to the main street.

Their guess was confirmed.

On the street walked a little funeral cortege. Right at the front played someone a big drum. Some people in dark clothes followed him. Four men carried a coffin.

Bill and his friends let them pass and took off their hats respectfully.

"Pitiful," Stump muttered and hoped never to come in a coffin very soon.

"Don't care."

Bill climbed down. The others followed his example.

They took the reins and looked around.

Bill discovered an old man, who leaned with his elbows on a railing of a terrace and puffed a pipe.

"Excuse me, where can we find Jeanny Thomson?"

The old man pulled his pipe and looked at the four men in surprise and empty look.

"They are carrying him away at this moment."

With the pipe he pointed at the funeral cortege.

In disbelief the gunslingers looked at the walking away people.

"Conflict in the saloon," the old man said. "He hadn't been fast enough. Well, he wasn't the brightest button that ever shone. Now, they knocked out his light forever."

With that, he turned away and didn't pay more attention to the speechless men who gazed after the carrying away coffin, which left the town more and more.