Chapter 2
Bars, Bandits and Bystanders
"Help! Someone!" Arthur heard the feller call. He shook his head and grumbled, for no particular reason really. Well, besides having to give chase to the fool. Short as it may have been.
"Whoa." Arthur called, and pat the brown hide of the horse he borrowed. Whisking his right leg over and across the horse and jumping down at his left onto the ground. The fool; perhaps a soon to be dead fool at that, had managed to run his horse clear towards a damn cliff face. All dressed up, clean and maybe a bit on the pampered side, Arthur couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact this feller was such a loudmouth and so accusatory! Well...he now had a chance to make sure he never spoke again. Considering the horse had bucked him, on account of his bad directions. Right on over the edge.
Arthur reached the edge of the cliff. Tilting himself over to see the feller, gripping by the barest of grips he'd ever saw along an edge.
"How's it hanging partner?" Arthur wondered, lowering himself down into a squat. The stranger stared up at him. All wide eyed, sweaty and shivering. Not from the cold 'course, but from the sense of impending probable death. At least that's what Arthur would imagine. "Why you telling lies about me?"
"No, no! I...I...I got it wrong, partner!" The feller began. The begging already in his voice. "I got it very wrong, now please help me up!" And, there goes the begging. Arthur for his part took in a long draw of air through his nose. Tilting his head to the side and letting the man grip and grasp in panic for a lil' while longer.
"Well, I ain't decided if I wanna help a liar, mister." Arthur began, turning his head back and cocking it sideways as he eyed the feller. "I ain't never been in Blackwater…" Arthur continued.
"Then why are you chasing me?!"
"I've got an unfortunate face!" Arthur lamented, waving his hands and arms up and out slightly. Feigning, at least a little, the sad and sorry state of his...err...face.
"Yes...yes, me too," The feller kept on, gasping and even crying...well a lil' bit, as his fingers began sliding back along dirt and exposed rock. "Now please, pull me up, please!" Arthur grumbled low. Once more turning his head to the side. Thoughtful, or at least appearing thoughtful. Weighing his options as it were.
"Please!" He begged again. Arthur pushed himself back up to a full stand. Loosening another low grumble of released air from his lungs. He stepped on closer to the edge and bent himself down. Gripping the fool's right wrist and arm in his own right hand. "Alright...come on." Arthur bent his knees and used his legs to begin pulling up. The feller jostling and jangling all over the goddamn place, like a fish on a hook! "Stop all the damn squirming!"
"Sorry, please!" He whimpered and Arthur again grumbled. Yanking the fool back up and over the edge onto solid earth, as it were. He flopped onto the ground, heaving and gasping. Sputtering even, a lil' bit. As Arthur clapped his gloved hands of real and imagined dust, watching the fool as he lay on the ground. Staring up at the sky.
"You okay, partner?" Arthur wondered aloud.
"No...no I am not." He whined. Pushing over onto his stomach, before managing to push himself back up to a stand. Shakily watching Arthur as he did. "I'm a mess." He finished.
"Well, you ain't dead. Mess or not." Arthur offered matter-of-factly.
"There is that. Jimmy Brooks." He offered an extended hand to Arthur. Though he didn't take it. Choosing instead to stare the man down. Imposing himself as best he knew how.
"I think it's best for both of us if we pretend this never happened."
"Oh, I agree." The fool...Jimmy agreed. Lowering his hand and nodding. "You saved my life. You're a good man and I err…" Jimmy stuttered pointing at Arthur. Though, for his part Arthur felt...well uncomfortable with the compliment, but held his tongue as Jimmy rifled through his pockets for a second. Pulling out a pen it looked like. "Here, you want a pen? It's one of them steel ones!" Jimmy gasped, handing it to Arthur.
"Oh," Arthur mumbled, and took the pen. "That's very kind of you. But, I'm not a good man, Jimmy Brooks, not usually." Arthur rebuked, shaking his head and pocketing the 'gift.' "You see, I was in Blackwater." He stepped closer. "I kill people, and maybe I shoulda' killed you. Should I have killed you, Jimmy Brooks?" Arthur menaced the poor shaken bastard. His eyes continually wide like a doe's, and hair still all mangled and messy from what it was before.
"Me?! I n...never saw you, not-not now not-not never! I think we have an understanding?" Jimmy nodded and smiled as best he could. To which Arthur gave a...well not a genuine smile, hell not even a nice smile.
"Of course we do." Arthur pat Jimmy's left shoulder. "Jimmy Brooks, I will remember that. I've got a good memory." Arthur pointed to his head. Again, trying to give the fool the clue. Which Jimmy seemed to get.
"I haven't...I haven't!" He stuttered and began walking backwards and away from Arthur. "Not-not one lick! Not...one sense in this here old mind!" Jimmy all but ran to his horse, stood by and watching. "C'mon, c'mon! You...you have a nice day now sir!"
"You too, Jimmy Brooks. You too." Arthur intoned as Jimmy reared the horse and rode off with a dash of speed and trail of dust in his wake. "Damn fool." He chuckled to himself. Shaking his head as he did.
Arthur loosed another sigh and rolled his shoulders. Tilting his head back towards 'his' horse after a moment of...well doing nothing he supposed. "Hmm, guess you'll be wanting to get back to your rider, huh?" Arthur smiled and approached the horse. The beast gave a snort and circled his head. "Alright now, alright. Let's go be an average good guy here, fella." He pat the horse along his neck and climbed atop. Foot in stirrup, hand on horn and a low grunt as he lifted himself up and sat down. Patting the feller as he did. Arthur pulled the reins back around and gave a 'giddyup' as the two made for the road leading back into Valentine.
The ride was short, but Arthur did have enough time to mentally hope Uncle didn't sideline the girls and got them back to camp by now. Weren't too far a ride for 'em to get that way. Though Uncle was...is a hell of a drunken fool, when it came to it the old man did as he was told. Well...for the most part. Where them girls were concerned Arthur was sure the drunk had done as told. That led to Arthur remembering that Charles and Javier were in the Saloon back up in Valentine. And...well seeing as his 'ride' was not his ride, and the wagon was gone, perhaps his best option would be to meetup with them. Grab a nice firm whiskey, see if those two had anything, and just relax a little.
"Yes, relax." Arthur intoned to himself as he trotted the horse along the dirty path leading past the show tent along the left and the gallows along the right. "Ya'know," Arthur began aloud, speaking to the horse...sort of. "I don't recall what your rider looks like, boy." He hummed to himself. Squinting and checking about himself. As though it would help any. Luckily for him...
"Hey! My horse!" The voice caught his attention. Arthur pulled the reins back, bringing the horse to a low snorting stop. A man walked from the further away side of the gallows. Average feller, tan jackets, light shirt, dark pants, so on and so forth. Nothing Arthur need be concerned with as he jumped off the horse and gave the feller what he hoped seemed a genuine smile. It wasn't all faked though so...should work.
"Am I glad to see you!" He went on.
"Here's your horse back friend. Sorry for any troubles. Just had a quick errand in need of running."
"Oh, you really were just borrowing it!" The feller beamed a big ole' smile as he jumped onto his horse. Arthur stepped back. Casting him a parting wave as he did.
"Yep, just borrowing, mister. Just borrowing."
"See ya' buddy!" The feller called back. Seeming happy as pig in shit. Arthur couldn't be happier for the feller, he supposed.
"Now, the saloon." He sniffled, turned and trudged his way up the path, rounding the hotel and fixating on Smithfield's as he did. Mind recalling the morning and all its events. Including them two well dressed fellers who helped Tilly. Though, he tried paying them little mind. Weren't nothing he need get himself thinking on. As with everyone here. They was just passing through, all of 'em.
"What do you want, fratello?" (Brother?) - Carlos wondered as he and Ruggero leaned themselves against the far end of the bar. Closer to the central set of stairs that led up to the second floor of this...fine establishment.
"Whiskey, of course, Carlos."
"Hmm." He nodded, and raised a pointed finger to the barkeep. "Two whiskeys, and a few for yourself." Carlos dug out a few dollars. About five or six, he didn't count, but knew his own pockets well enough to know he hadn't just paid the man's rent for a year. The keeper came over, eyed the two; Carlos could guess he didn't get finely dressed city-folk in here a lot, but he cocked his head appreciatively as he checked their money. It, unlike people, was always green.
"Coming right up, fellers."
"Thank you." Carlos smiled thinly. Leaning himself into the bar with a sigh. "When we get back down to Saint Denis," He began glancing right as Ruggero mimicked him and leaned into the bar. "I need to have a conversation with a few people in higher places."
"The plan certainly seems in motion." Ruggero intoned. An air of...almost what sounded like disapproval to him as he sighed.
"You don't approve?"
"Approve?" Ruggero repeated. "I do whatever you say, you know this. What I fear is this scheme."
"It's a good plan." Carlos shrugged slightly. "Better than any I've had so far."
"If it works out, mio amico." (My friend.) - Ruggero grumbled, but Carlos plastered a smile onto his face, pushing off the bar and patting his broad-shouldered friend's...well, left shoulder.
"It will. You just need to trust me."
"Trust is always in supply. As is uncertainty."
"Well," Carlos snorted to himself. "A good bit of fear is welcome. Keeps the shoulders a bit tense. Ready for action at drop of hat. Qualunque sia il detto." (Whatever the saying is.) - Carlos waved his hand as the barkeep approached with two larger than normal glasses and filled them healthily.
"Here you both are, fellers. Enjoy."
"Grazie." (Thanks.) - Ruggero bowed his head. "Err, thank you." He corrected from Italian. Grabbing his glass and shooting back a healthy gulp. Carlos swirled his cup for a moment. Eyes squinting in thought before he nursed a sip of the liquor.
"Hmm." He began with a gulp. "I just want to know if you stand behind me?"
"Of course!" Ruggero scoffed, and pat Carlos back. A notable huff escaping the smaller man. "I have your back. I just enjoy telling you that you're a fool! A dangerous, and scheming fool, but one I am stuck with."
"E sono bloccato con te." (And I'm stuck with you.) - Carlos smirked and shot back a more healthy gulp. A groan escaping him as he sputtered. "Shit, where do they get this stuff from?"
"Probably bottled by hillbillies." Ruggero shrugged. Both minding their tone to not insult the keeper who was busying himself with a refill for the party of four down the bar. "So, who are you in need of meeting with?" Ruggero continued.
"The mayor, for one."
"Of course. But," Ruggero scoffed a light laugh. "You know his time is taken up by Angelo."
"Non me ne frega un cazzo!" (I could not give a shit!) -
"I know, I know." Ruggero raised his hands. His right pulling the shotgun's strap back over the shoulder as it slipped a little. "I just say it, brother." He calmed Carlos.
"Yes...I know. Mie scuse." (My apologies.) -
"It is no trouble." Ruggero intoned. "We will find a way to get a meeting done."
"Good." Carlos nodded. Ruggero able to see his friend's eyes distant once more. Thoughts and memories plaguing him. As they always did when Angelo was mentioned.
"Hmm, who else?" Ruggero pressed.
"Mademoiselle, Lemelin."
"That should be fun."
"Hah!" Carlos snorted. "It should be. No love lost." He stated absently. "All the same, she will be the easy one, I think. As well, Chief Lambert. Oh, and the entire Labor Committee."
"All at once?!" Ruggero balked.
"No, idiota!" (Idiot!) - Carlos smacked his teeth, though he remained playful. "Not all at once. One at a time. Slowly. We should see where they stand, and if need be, we make changes, eh?"
"Alright, fair, fair." Ruggero nodded. "But, what about that business up in Rhodes? I hear-"
"Hey!" Both men paused. Turning collectively left as they sensed the word addressed their way. "¡¿Tu hablas español?!" (You speak Spanish?!") - The man down the way, dark toned, wearing a blue jacket, a dark cap, similar jeans along with a gray vest and white shirt underneath called their way. He had a thin mustache on either side of his upper lip, and a deeper thick accent to compliment his dark hair and skin. It was simple enough to note the man was Mexican...well some manner of Latin at least.
"Ehh...hmm." Carlos began as he and Ruggero were put on the spot. The man, along with his three companions all looking their way. The ladies seeming, less interested. Whilst the black gentleman...perhaps native? Well, whatever he was, he was watching with a more evident appraisal of Carlos and Ruggero.
"Italiano!" (Italian!) - Carlos called back, raising his near empty glass. The stranger chuckled and raised his own in kind.
"Ah, we're nearly brothers! At least in where we get our languages, eh mis amigos?!" (Eh my friends?!) - The unknown man called to them. Ruggero raised his glass, copying Carlos.
"Saluti." (Cheers.) - To that the stranger chuckled and bowed his head. Though he was quick to focus his attention back on the two ladies between he and the darker man. Both Carlos and Ruggero falling into momentary, but comfortable silence as they nursed their drinks...allowing their minds to drift. Both hearing, but ignoring the sound of the saloon doors swinging open. Just for a moment, however…
Arthur sighed again. Climbing his way up the small set of stairs to Smithfield's he pushed the doors open. Just as he heard Javier announce – "We got a wild one here!" Whatever that meant. He had a bit of a laugh to his voice.
"Let's see what trouble they've gotten themselves into now." Arthur intoned. Finding the saloon to be...well just about the same as every other. Give or take the cleanliness and patronage sometimes. There was a table of poker players to the right. All ignoring him as three of the four sat scoffed, throwing their cards as the fourth howled a victory laugh as he pulled the chips at the center to himself. "Lucky bastard." Arthur intoned.
He looked left and saw a feller at the piano. Playing some of them tunes. 'Ragtime' Arthur thought the crap was called? Well...maybe not crap, but he didn't much care for it being played in every goddamn saloon he went to since the year before last...or around there anyways.
"Arthur!" He heard Javier call. Arthur had already spotted him and Charles at the near end of the bar, as it turned in towards the wall. He waved their way and approached. Eyeing the two girls, clearly working girls, between the pair. Lord, they looked a sight too. Both wearing as little as acceptable. Their busts on full display, and Arthur would hazard they was made more presentable. Stuffed? Whatever they called it when women did this to attract men. One was a redhead, and Javier was busying himself with her, while Charles was more taken with the dark haired brunette. Couldn't blame 'em. They was attractive, but not Arthur's style. Not anymore. Not for quite awhile neither.
"Arthur, come here, come here." Javier greeted, and bid him over. Gripping his shoulder as he got close. "Come over here, I want you to meet our friends."
"Pleased to meet you." Arthur greeted, dull as he could be. The redhead leaning herself to the bar and turning to look him over as her friend sorta half turned towards him.
"Well ain't you a tough as teak mountain man?" The redhead drawled.
"Oh, you be quiet Anastasia, anyone can tell this one is a pussy cat." 'Pussy cat?' The hell was that accent? Arthur crinkled his nose slightly as they spoke. Goddamn they were laying it on thick.
"Exactly, yes he's a pussy...cat. Ain't that so, Arthur?" Javier ribbed.
"Whatever you say." Arthur pulled himself back and made clear he was eyeballing then two ladies. "How much you cost, anyway?" Both Javier and Charles immediately groaned lowly.
"Well ain't that a nice way to talk to a lady?" Anastasia shot back.
"Oh," Arthur hummed. "I didn't know I was talking to a lady." He feigned a smile.
"Excuse me." Anastasia walked off, taking her friend with her. Charles grasping out for her as she followed her redheaded friend. Javier in turn sighed as Arthur took their spot at the bar.
"Well...I must say, you got a fine way with the women, amigo."
"Yeah, a regular dandy and a charmer." The bartender dropped three more whiskey shots for the three of them. Arthur took his glass and downed it. A low happy groan rumbling in his throat as he swallowed. Though, as he shook his head from the tiniest of after burns he tilted his face right. Squinting as he saw them two fellers from before down the way. Both of whom were chatting among themselves.
"Huh." Arthur intoned.
"What?" Charles wondered with a sniffle.
"Them two." Arthur craned his neck out. Both Javier and Charles following.
"Oh, yeah them two." Javier nodded. "They're Italians."
"Huh? How you know that?"
"Javier heard one of them say something." Charles offered. "Sounded Spanish. It was Italian I guess."
"Sure did." Javier nodded. "They seem nice enough. Why?"
"Well," Arthur leaned into the bar. "I came into town a while ago. Drove Uncle, Karen, Tilly and Mary-Beth in-"
"Oh yeah!" Javier chuckled, taking another offered shot. "We saw them in here an hour or so ago. You were here?"
"Yeah I was at the General Store with Uncle. Waited outside. Anyways…" Arthur sniffled again. "Seems Tilly knew a nasty bit of work. He dragged her over between the bank and hotel."
"What?!" Charles growled protectively. Javier leaned forward.
"He do anything?" Javier wondered.
"No, that's all taken care of. Those two helped." Arthur nudged towards the two Italians. "Mary-Beth came over and was telling me and Uncle about something good she heard talk of. Next thing we see is Tilly being pulled between the buildings. Followed by them two fellers. That big feller with the shotgun, he scared the fool off. I'll have to ask Tilly about it later. She seemed to know the feller hassling her. I got there just as he was being warned off by them two. Grateful as I was I had other business to attend. Karen." Arthur offered with a shrug.
"Ah, yeah," Javier nodded. "She had a drunk fool with her. She didn't get hurt though?"
"Well...a little."
"Esas chicas." (Those girls.) - Javier shook his head.
"Yeah well don't worry none. I got it taken care of." Arthur eyed them two down the bar. Just as the smaller one...well the one his size caught it. He turned to Arthur and smiled. Raising his glass towards him. Arthur doing the same, but saying nothing.
"So, they're helpful." Javier added as he watched Arthur give a silent greeting. "What's to think about?"
"Nothing much, I guess." Arthur shrugged. "Just, they're well dressed, armed, and helpful. Just stands out is all."
"Could be there's some money to be made from them then?" Charles thought as he eyed the pair himself. Paying special mind to the big feller.
"Maybe? I thought so." Arthur chuckled. "But, nah. They helped Tilly. I say that's enough for us to be the neighborly sort and leave well enough alone. Besides," Arthur shot back another hit of whiskey and sputtered. "Hmm! Whew!" He cleared his throat. "Besides uh, they seemed like they was on business they didn't want to share. Same as us. Could be they want to be left alone in this little shit hole just like the rest of us. Why stir up unnecessary trouble?"
"Money." Javier laughed.
"Well there is that, but still. Let's not make too many moves before we know what's what. And, like I said they helped Tilly so…"
"Yeah, you're right." Javier shot back his own glass and hummed happily. Charles following with a tap of his glass to wood of the bar.
"Yeah...anyways, where's Bill?" Arthur finally asked. Realizing the other poor drunk bastard of their group was nowhere to be seen.
"Oh, man. I dread to think about it." Javier cackled against his drink. Though he turned his head towards the door, and tapped Arthur's shoulder. "Hey hey hey, there he is." All three turned. Watching as Bill strode through the swinging doors and stomped, a bit shakily, as expected, right into a feller just trying to leave.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Ah hell...there Bill went. Arthur shook his head lightly. Wiping his lips of imagined whiskey.
"Take it easy!" The feller roared back. All eyes in the saloon turning to watch the commotion.
"He about to kiss that guy or punch him?" Arthur wondered as Bill menaced the bastard and shoved him full force into the poker table.
"Oh, and we have our answer!" Javier ran forward and before Arthur could say a word the fool slammed a bottle over the head of some other fool sat at a table to their collective right. Charles ran ahead. Seeming momentarily confused. Before he grabbed a stool chair and through the whole damn thing further into the saloon at...well someone. The piano came to a stop, and all hell broke loose! Men randomly grabbing others and punching, kicking, jumping onto, and shoving one another!
"Shit!" Arthur laughed. "Ah hell...why not?!"
"Come here you!" Some feller swung at him as Arthur moved towards Bill. He blocked and slam! A fist struck the feller in the cheek. He stumbled back. Spat and came back at Arthur. A grin plastered on his face as he waited for him.
"What the shit?!" Carlos recoiled just as a stool flew past his and Ruggero's faces.
"Shit!" Someone yelled and howled in pain quickly after as he was flung back. The stool ramming into hims face first and driving him down against the stairwell.
"Come on fellers!" The barkeep groaned. "Not this shit again!"
"Buon Dio." (Good God.) - Ruggero shook his head. A smile beginning to breakout across it. Both Carlos and Ruggero hung back against the bar. Neither wanting to join in the fray. Their cowboy friend, beating his fists into some fool near the entrance. One two, one two! Across his face. Blood sputtering out as he jerked back. The cowboy laughing as he slammed his right hook into his chin and the bastard went down.
"Let's just shoot these bastards!" The big one who had come in all angry, growled. Ruggero gripped his shoulder strap tightly.
"Cool it." Carlos bade and pressed the back of his left hand to Ruggero's chest. "No need to take the bait."
"Oh come on, we can handle these fools!" The black-Indian friend of the cowboy's replied as he kicked his boot square into some bastard's knee. He gave a helluva howl and fell over. Allowing the Indian to grip his head in both hands and level a knee into his nose. A crunch sounding as he fell back roaring in pain. The Mexican feller kept beating on some fool near the piano. Leveling punch after punch into the man's gut. Slamming a fist across his face and throwing him into a roll across the table and onto the ground in a heap.
"Come 'ere!" Some drunken fool charged Ruggero and Carlos. Carlos grinned. Ruggero leapt forward and slammed his right fist square into his forehead, and the man swung around falling to the ground in a single knockout blow.
"Cristo!" Ruggero snarled and waved his right hand in the air.
"Wonderful punch, brother." Carlos pat his shoulder as Ruggero mumbled angrily.
"Hey, that's my cousin! You goddamn greasers!" A hick if ever there was one growled and stumble-ran over towards the pair of them from a table near the back right. Just as the angry friend of the cowboy's was slammed into the wall. Pinned by two fellers as a third began beating his gut.
"Come closer and lose your teeth!" Ruggero menaced.
"Screw you!"
Carlos shook his head as the fool charged Ruggero. The hulking man stepped closer as the fool ran at him. Catching him by both shoulders and picking him up and slamming him against the bar. He kicked and growled, but Ruggero pinned his head to the bar, and threw back his right fist. SLAM! It rained down and the man's jaw cracked out! He howled and a tooth, or part of one ejected out onto the floor before Carlos.
"Take a breather!" Ruggero all but threw the man back across the saloon to the far wall. Carlos cackling aloud as he did.
"Cowboys!" He kept on cackling as Ruggero shook his head. Scoffing as he pat his right glove.
"Goddamn blood on my glove…"
"Ah, you can get a new pair."
"I liked this one."
"Bah!" Carlos snickered, turning and grabbing his drink and shooting down another bit of whiskey.
The cowboy, Arthur, he had come up behind the man beating his friend against the wall. Running into him, and turning him around. Leveling a punch across his face, and a second into his gut. The feller gasped and doubled in pain. The two holding Arthur's friend let go. And the friend grappled the one to his right and threw him to the ground. Kicking the shit out of him. Arthur throwing the first man over, and punching the shit out of the other fool. It was chaos…
"What the hell is going on down here?!" Someone called. Both Ruggero and Carlos turning to a hulking bastard of a man bumbling down the stairway form the top floor. Hell, he was about as tall as Ruggero. Lot of meat on his bones. Sure some fat, but lot of muscle too. A big boy for sure.
"No, Tommy, stay out of this!" The barkeep plead. The big boy, Tommy, reached the bottom and squarely leveled his eyes on Ruggero. Carlos smirked. Daring Tommy to make a move as Ruggero gave a helluva sneer. Both mountain sized boulders of human flesh eyeing, daring one another. Tommy bared his teeth, but...he was drawn away as he saw the Mexican friend of Arthur's. Seemingly backing down from Ruggero...or maybe just getting easily distracted?
"Come here you little greaser." Tommy growled and menaced past the two at the bar towards the 'greaser' in question.
"What is with cowboys and the word greaser?" Ruggero intoned spitefully.
"They're jealous of good hair. All that Britannic ancestry." Carlos chuckled, shaking his head as Tommy met the Mexican. The little feller threw a punch into Tommy's face then gut, but neither seemed to make a dent. Tommy pushed him back, by simply walking before he gripped the Mexican's shoulder, turned him, and slammed his fist so hard into the dark skinned bastard he flung back towards the table near the piano.
"Ya' hit like a girl!" Tommy growled and gripped the Mexican. Slamming his face into the bar a few times. As a man grappled Arthur from behind.
"I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!" Arthur snarled and began beating his elbows into the one on his back, over and over. Managing to shake him off as Tommy slapped the Mexican square across the face and threw him back to the table next to the piano.
"You want I should-"
"No." Carlos cut Ruggero off as Arthur turned and beat the bastard who had been on his back down to the ground. "No, let's see who can beat who." He intoned. "I want to see if these boys have the proper...spirit."
"Ever the observer."
"I leave the fighting to those as need to. Besides I can fight."
"I know." Ruggero chuckled, grabbing his own drink with not but a sip or two left. Downing it as Carlos watched Arthur run at Tommy. The hulking bastard slamming the Mexican over and over into the table. Face first too. Carlos grimacing with each hit, but finding it notable he, nor Arthur, nor the other two seemed ready to give up.
"Javier could use some help, Morgan!"
"Hey, tough guy!" Arthur...Morgan it seemed came at Tommy. Leveling a strong punch to the back of Tommy's head. Although he seemed to stop knocking the Mexican around. Just to turn and growl at Arthur. Not a stumble to him. Arthur punched Tommy's gut, but Tommy swung a hook across Arthur from his left. The cowboy stumbled back, and Tommy grappled his jacket and threw him clear across the table! Plate or glass flying and breaking as Arthur rolled onto the floor.
"You want some too, huh?!" Tommy came around, grabbed Arthur and with a great bit of muscle to him, he pulled the cowboy up and threw him head first through the goddamn window!
"Well, let's go see huh?" Carlos bid with another pat of Ruggero's chest. Ruggero hummed and nodded. Dropping his glass, and throwing ten bucks the barkeeps way.
"For your troubles."
"Well...thanks. I guess." The two heard him reply as Tommy moved out the swinging doors.
"Come on, pretty boy!" The hulking bastard snarled with a wicked grin to his face.
"Pretty boy? You're kidding me! Pretty boy?!" Arthur heaved. His friends following out the doors as Carlos and Ruggero left. Taking up along the saloon deck. Both watching as Arthur raised his fists and blocked a savage right hook from Tommy. That rain Carlos had expected to come, finally doing so and drizzling the muddy ground around them. Just as the whole damn town seemed to come out and over, even the General Store clerk, to watch these two fight in the mud and muck.
"Come on, Tommy!" Someone in the crowd hollered.
"Put that ape down!" The angry friend of Arthur's commanded as he joined the two along the deck watching. Their Mexican friend shaking his head. Likely seeing double, and sitting himself down on the stoop with a wince and low groan.
"You got him, Arthur?!" Their Indian friend wondered.
"Yeah, I got this son of a bitch!" Tommy had pushed Arthur around onto his knees. But, Arthur had pushed himself back up. Carlos noted. He was certainly strong. Even being half the size of this Tommy he had a lot of power. More compact. Arthur, swung around, leveling a direct fist into Tommy's face and the big boy stumbled back some. The mud making both men filthy, but more so Arthur.
"Show him how we do it in Valentine!" Another passerby commanded of Tommy. The huge man, grappled Arthur's neck. Throwing him clear around and across their little battle circle. Arthur stumbled, and shook his hair, matted with rain, mud and sweat as Tommy came at him. A fist met Arthur's right cheek, and he whirled to his left. Tommy threw another, but Arthur blocked with his arm.
"You show him, Tommy! Woo hoo hoo!" These people apparently needed more things to do with their spare time. They egged the show on as Tommy clocked Arthur in an upward swing. The cowboy stumbled back with a heave and fell to his back.
"Let's go Arthur!" The Indian called. Arthur pushing himself up through the muck and charging with a cry into Tommy's gut. Tommy jerked back, but kept on where he was. Growling and punching back, but Arthur blocked again. Squaring his boots into the mud as Tommy pushed him through the muck. Tommy got another punch to his face, but he grabbed Arthur's neck, and heaved him up. Slamming him onto the ground.
"Cristo, that looks painful." Ruggero intoned.
"Ah, he can take it." The Mexican...Carlos believed his name was Javier replied back without looking back at the pair. Nursing his face. "Arthur is a hell of a fighter."
"He certainly seems so." Carlos agreed. Watching as Tommy straddled Arthur and began leveling punch after punch into the cowboy. Even while watching it, Carlos could see Arthur scowling. Not giving up, even as Tommy pushed his face into the mud. Damn near looked ready to kill the man.
"Come on, Arthur, he's a moron!" Javier cheered. Just as Arthur swung a quite nice punch up across right into Tommy's left cheek. He stepped back and away. Seeming momentarily dazed. Arthur placed a hard kick into the mountain man's groin, and Tommy heaved, doubling over. Some in the crowd seething for the fool as Arthur gripped Tommy's shirt, and pulled him down into the mud just as he had been. He got on top of him and Arthur gripped Tommy's neck with his left hand, and his right fist came down. Over, and over, and over. Each time Tommy kept awake, but he got weaker. Arthur heaved back, and slammed down. Once, twice, three times! The punches sounding even through the pelting water. The crowd seeming to lose their fun spirit. Some squinting and jumping with the hits.
"Hey, come on, stop that!" Someone called.
"He's had enough!" Another begged. Carlos and Ruggero watching as Arthur kept on savaging the clearly losing bastard.
"Stop!" Both watched as some scrawny little man ran into the circle in front of Arthur. Just stopping the next savage punch. "Stop! Stop please! Please, I beg you. Stop. Come, sir. You won the fight already, surely that's enough?" The little man bade as Arthur, even with his back to Carlos and Ruggero must've passed a nasty look his way.
"What business is it of yours?" Arthur snarled as he let Tommy fall into the mud. Clearly done...but not dead.
"No…" The man coughed as he held his hands up from Arthur. "No business. No business, sir. But, please...I beg you." Arthur didn't bother to keep on listening. Shoving the man towards Tommy on the ground as he stumbled his way off and through the crowd. Grappling at his back as he made his way towards the General Store. The crowd beginning to disperse. Eyeing Arthur in a variety of ways. Some respectful, some distasteful. Carlos watching him stumble off and humming to himself. The little guy helped Tommy up, and the pair stumbled off towards the doctor's place to the other side of Smithfield's.
"Now that…" Carlos began and turned to Ruggero. "Is the kind of man I think we need. Or, do you still question his competence?" Carlos smirked and fished for his pack of cigarettes again.
"Alright well...no, you have a point. If he can fight like that. Then he must have some kind of experience with business such as ours."
"At the very least the punching, kicking, beating and fighting variety. He has a gun on him, and by the looks of things," Carlos jutted his chin to the retreating figures of Arthur's three friends. "He has a crew. Or, friends who are in their own ways capable. Where fighting is concerned."
"That all being said," Ruggero began as Carlos lit a cigarette and puffed the flame to life. "A fight in the saloon don't mean any cowboy can go on and, rubare un palcoscenico." (Rob a stage.) Ruggero noted and Carlos shrugged.
"Maybe it don't equate, but it's on the way. Now, come on." Carlos bade and led them over towards the General Store. The two of them began moving, but Carlos stopped them, and much as they had before they remained at the closest beam along the saloon's deck to the General Store. Carlos saying nothing but, turning with a grunt. A low key bid for Ruggero to act natural, and the massive man did so. Carlos glancing right as he saw two more, well dressed men chatting with Arthur, and his friends. One of them looking more business than the other. His voice more like one of them tycoons come down from New York, a mustache on his face and top hat atop his head.
The other had a suit jacket opened revealing his own vest, two pocket watch chains clipped to the lower vest button. Two revolvers on him by the glance Carlos could manage and a bushy mustache all his own along with what Carlos knew was called a 'soul patch' bit of facial hair along his chin. His hair and eyes were dark, the hair slicked back underneath his hat. He had a prominently ridged nose, and what seemed to be some fancier rings along his hands. At least two on his right from what Carlos could see. The hat the man wore was dark, much as the rest of his clothing, suit jacket, vest and pants, atop what looked to be a white shirt beneath. All of which were fancier than anything Arthur and his friends were wearing besides the other man with him in the street.
"You're right, we ain't too popular in Blackwater." This suave man offered the other well dressed man who had just lazily bowed to the rest.
"We left a lot of money there." Arthur offered with a pained groan to his voice.
"And young Sean, it seems." The well spoken among them declared knowingly.
"Sean? You've found him?"
"Yes, I have." The well spoken one nodded. "He's being held by some bounty hunters, trying to see how much money the government will pay them. I know he's in Blackwater, but there's talk of moving him." Carlos hummed thoughtfully to himself. Taking a drag of his cigarette as Ruggero pretended to look out towards the gunsmith in the distance. Carlos taking these names he heard to memory as Arthur began again.
"Well, if we step foot in Blackwater," He groaned and nursed his cheek before spitting. Probably something bleeding in the mouth. "Well, then we're dead men for sure." Arthur stood with another pained wince.
"There'll be Pinkertons all over the place, but if he's alive we've gotta try."
"Yeah of course." Arthur sighed in response to the suave feller.
"It's you they want, Dutch." Ah, there's his name.
"Always is." Dutch stated simply, and knowingly. "Charles, go find out what you can, carefully." He ordered the Indian, and Carlos put that name to memory also. "Josiah, take Javier." Again, Carlos kept Josiah in mind, but was validated on the Mexican's name. "Arthur, go get yourself cleaned up. Join them when you're ready." Arthur nodded and turned.
"Well, what about me?"
"Well exactly, what about you?"
"What does that mean?"
"Ah, Bill." Dutch waved the drunken one among them off. "Come on." Dutch bid and pulled Bill with him off to who knew where. Arthur disappearing between the building for...well who knew what.
"Hmm, well…" Ruggero began as he glanced up to the sky. The rain coming to a pause. "They certainly aren't quiet about who they are."
"Their business seems to be in bad sorts." Carlos idly added. "Dutch, Bill, Javier and Charles I believe."
"Plus Josiah. The carnival barker."
"Right." Carlos chuckled. "They are an assorted lot, but they seem to be organized. That bodes well."
"That and," Ruggero shrugged. "They appear to be willing to face down bounty hunters. All in the hopes of freeing someone."
"Sean. Whoever that is." Carlos nodded. "The more I've seen in these short hours the more I think we may have found our man...men for the job."
"Well, can't say you're wrong." Ruggero agreed.
"Hmm, walk with me." Carlos bade and swept his arm over towards the General Store. The two of them reached the side between the saloon and it, but glancing right neither saw Arthur. Both assuming he must've left the scene whilst they were talking, or taken off in the opposing direction from the street. Either way he was gone as quickly as he was there.
"I still want you to get Mendoza to send over everything we know about Blackwater. Don't give any names. I don't want any fool whose got themselves listening in on telegram lines to assume anything. If we're to ingratiate ourselves, the worst thing we could do is bring unwanted attention on them."
"They just beat half the liquored up cowboys in this place, but I get your meaning." Ruggero chuckled. A few stray rain drops pelting both he and Carlos as they moved slowly by the General Store.
"You have a point, but-"
"Yes, I know. Be discreet."
"Good." Carlos nodded. "I say we shack up in the hotel for the night. Take a load off, as it were. Then tomorrow we maybe find our wayward cowboy friends?"
"After I walk my ass to the train station and send the telegram." Ruggero scoffed. Carlos chuckled again and both men passed the as of yet to be fully built structure beside the General Store.
"You are wise beyond your years, Ruggero. In fact you are a fortune teller now, eh?"
"I'm older than you, stronzo." (Asshole.) - Ruggero waved him off. Carlos patting his shoulder in response. But, before either could speak they heard a ragged cough sound beside them. Both having meandered their ways off the unfinished deck. Both looking to see the ragged feller from before. The one who had injected himself between Arthur and Tommy.
"Pa...pardon me, fellers." He coughed as he noticed them noticing him. His stand...if you wanted to call it that requesting donations for the poor. "Don't mean to be rude, but if either of you have anything to spare it'd go towards a good...good…" He coughed a heaving wheeze into his wrist. Ruggero taking a step back while Carlos threw what left of his cigarette away. Its flame having faded sometime during their eavesdropping. "Good cause!" The man finally retched.
"Oh yeah?" Carlos replied. "What sort of good cause?"
"I...oh! Well it'll be distributed among the needy. Hungry fellers and folk during the nex...next church service if I can make it." The man coughed out.
"Make it huh?" Carlos crossed his arms and tilted his head. "That's a nasty cough you got there, friend. Now I ain't no doctor but I'd say you either got one helluva bad case of pneumonia or...tuberculosis?" The man's face tensed and his shoulders slumped some.
"I...I...well I mean-"
"You don't want nobody knowing you're full of disease huh?" Carlos figured while Ruggero cleared his throat and called Carlos' attention to him.
"I'll meet you at the hotel. Gonna go make that telegram."
"Good." Carlos nodded and turned back to the stranger. Ruggero moving off as he did. "You don't have to worry about my view on things. I'm from Saint Denis. Also stayed a while up in St. Louis too. I've seen my share of TB patients. Not too nice a thing."
"No sir…" He coughed into his sleeve again. "Not nice at all."
"But, a sick man stepping into the street when two burly bastards are beating the shit out of each other? Now that's asking to be killed." Carlos offered, and the feller raised his hands and shrugged.
"I didn't want to see Tommy get killed by the other feller. I don't...I don't know."
"An average do-gooder, huh?" Carlos chuckled as the feller gave a thin weak smile.
"I suppose, sir. But, I don't claim to be nothing."
"I see." Carlos nodded absently and strutted a bit closer. "So, a sick man, and might I say...a real sick man, is standing out here in the pouring rain collecting alms for the poor. As well as getting between big brutes trying to kill one another? You look like shit, my friend." The stranger chuckled softly. A defeated sort of look in his eyes, but he nodded all the same.
"You have me, sir. You have me." He sighed with a wheeze to his strained breathing. Each one like a gurgle from a drowning feller with his head peaking above water. "I just want to...do some good before it all comes to an end."
"Hmm, quite the morbid view of things, ain't it?"
"I spouse' so, sir." He nodded.
"Well…" Carlos sighed and rummaged through his pocket. Pulling out a few dollars from the bundle Ruggero had gotten from the bank. "Here." Carlos counted in front of the feller. His eyes widening at the sight of Carlos' money. Wasn't even all of it neither. "I've given a bit of money to collection boxes. Catholic." Carlos smirked and tipped his head. The feller nodding his silent understanding. "So, take this and use it for some good, friend." Carlos pulled fifty dollars loose from the bundle and placed it in the feller's collection bowl. "My soul is...well…" Carlos laughed. "I don't know. Just take it. Use it on the needy."
"Why I...I thank-" A ragged coughing fit hit the man and he turned his face away from Carlos. Hacking over towards the muddy road before he gulped some air down. "Thank you, feller."
"No problem." Carlos nodded. But, he looked the stranger up and down. His clothes looking worn, patchy and ragged as ever. "What's your name, sir?"
"Thomas, Thomas Downes, sir." He raised his hand to shake, but Carlos smiled and tipped his head instead.
"I'd shake, friend, but like I said I've been around sick folk with TB. No offense."
"Ah, none ta...taken." He wheezed. Eyes bloodshot and sickly as his skin was pale.
"Hmm. How're you and your family? I assume you have one?"
"Well...we're doing fine, for the most part, sir." Thomas shrugged.
"Really?" Carlos scoffed. "You look half dead already. You're telling me your work here collecting alms for the poor is paying for your food?"
"I work for the Charitable Organization of New Hanover, sir. They pay me-"
"Not enough it seems." Carlos eyed his clothes again.
"I also preach, but...not for money of course."
"Of course. And, you're not sticking your hands in the collections box, right?"
"No, sir!" Thomas wheezed in horror at the thought. Carlos smiled and raised his hands.
"No offense meant. But, it wouldn't be the first time a poor sack did such a thing."
"N...no doubt." Thomas coughed into his wrist again, shaking his head as his eyes squinted.
"You indebted, Mr. Downes?" Carlos bluntly wondered to the furrowed brow response of Thomas.
"I...well I don't-"
"You wouldn't be the first." Carlos cut him off. "In St. Louis there was a racket around the sick. TB patients would be hard up for work on account of their coughing, wheezing...dying. The unsavory sort, scum of the earth, sharks...they would circle them. Exactly like their names suggest. Infamia!" (Infamy!) - Carlos spat to the dirt with a snarling twist to his brow whilst throwing his left arm up and back.
"It...sounds terrible, yes, sir." Thomas groaned.
"It is. Sharks and sharking...sons of bitches." Carlos reeled himself back in. Clearly taking a calming breath and shaking his head as he placed his hands on his hips. "Forgive the display. I have little love for such men."
"I understand, sir."
"Hmm." Carlos nodded, but cocked his head to the side. "So, you taken any loans?"
"A few. Bu-but from the bank here."
"Just the bank, huh?" Carlos pressed. A knowing cock of his brow.
"Well...members of the church have given me and my wife some money. Not a loan of course, but it was meant to help us."
"You used it to pay off some debt, huh?" To that Thomas averted his gaze. Shame mingled in the weakness of his sickly eyes.
"It wasn't what I had wanted. You read me like a book, sir."
"No." Carlos laughed sardonically. "I just know poor bastards such as yourself." He smacked his teeth. "Where do you live?"
"A ranch, bit west of here, sir. Along the way to the bridge leading off towards the woods and Strawberry. After a while I mean."
"Hmm." Carlos hummed. "You put the home up as collateral with the bank?"
"Hah." Thomas coughed another ragged laugh. "Again, you know me well, sir."
"Sons of bitches." Carlos smacked his teeth once more. Turning to look at the bank. "You know," He turned back to Thomas and took another bold step close, but not too close of course. "I've been looking to buy some property."
"Oh?" Thomas wondered with a wheeze.
"Yeah." Carlos nodded. "Seeing as you're a man in debt, and likely not just to the bank…" Carlos pressed knowingly, and Thomas didn't bother to try and correct him. "I'd like to come have a look at the ranch. If that's amenable?"
"You...you'd want to buy it? But, sir I'm not-"
"Selling?" Carlos scoffed. "You will be selling it to someone who can pay the interest on it, or the bank will seize it and throw you and your wife, and anyone else out on your asses in no time. Then where will ya' be, huh?"
"Well..."Thomas coughed lightly. The wheeze having a sputtering sound of deep rooted phlegm to it. "You...you may have a point."
"Don't take me to be some bastard looking to rob you and your family, Mr. Downes." Carlos laughed a single sardonic laugh. "I'm a piece of work all my own, but loan sharks?" Carlos sneered. "I like them as much as shit on the bottom of my boot. Consider this me getting one over on 'em. Be they 'legal,' heh, bank sharks or any smarmy cocksucker who has a pocket book." Carlos restrained another hateful release of spit from his mouth. Smacking his teeth instead and reeling his emotions, dredged up from dark corners of his memory, back down.
"Humph." Carlos hummed to himself. "Let me come have a look at your place. A few days time maybe? Think of it as giving your wife a way out of any...unfortunate predicaments, Mr. Downes." Carlos shrugged. "Not to be crass but...you may not have long to live to repay any such debts, and trust me, vultures only wait 'till the body is limp. Dead or not." To that grave warning and stern look by Carlos, Mr. Downes gave him another once over. His eyes weak, body failing, and mind reeling. He cast a look to his collection bowl. Looking at the bundle of money. Thinking of something...perhaps his wife? Carlos didn't know.
Until he gave a low, throaty and nasty sounding sigh layered in phlegm and failing lung sputtering and nodded.
"Come by in a few days. You can look the place over then, Mister…"
"Magliano." Carlos smiled. More genuine this time. "I'll see you then. Tell your wife of my coming. Don't want anyone to be shocked when I make myself known."
"I will, sir." Thomas called as Carlos turned and made his way towards the hotel across the road.
"I will." Thomas nodded to himself.
L's Note: Here's the next chapter! A little slow to start, but we're getting places. Once again, if anyone finds any egregious grammar mistakes let me know and I will endeavor to fix them ASAP! Oh, and melodycrow, it was so nice of you to review! The author, Lord Kun wanted me to tell you he appreciates your work, and as such is humbled by your review of his own RDR2 story! Hope to hear from you again, whenever you feel like it, and hope you continue to enjoy the tale being woven.
Until the next people!
-L
Edit Note: Edited/Updated 05/08/2022