The Law Riders' Last Run

It was called... Hoodlum Gulch. Worst place fer any wagon train t'pull in, even t'water the livestock. Well sure, the land was rich enough: a river ran near it an' turned some wheel up at the mill. Place had plenty bread, beer an' beef t'keep any feller whut lived there full t'his dyin' day. Problem was, fellers tended t'die 'round those parts too often.

Y'see, Hoodlum Gulch was run by a handful of the most incredible outlaws you'd ever meet. Most known was the one whut made 'is presence most known, on accountah bein' too big t'go unnoticed: Victor Creed, taller'n a horse an' wide as a saloon door. Never toted a gun in his life, though he's been shot at more times than any man. Belly fullah led, that's whut they say about 'im, an' I'm inclined t'believe it. The man looked like a grizzly bear in a macintosh--even had claws fer fingers an' a bear's teeth in 'is mouth! He wore the lawman's badge fer Hoodlum Gulch, though there weren't no real laws there. Everybody just knew their place an' stayed in it.

Now, next t'Creed there was a li'l feller by the name'ah Mortimer Toynbee: fastest tongue in the west. Had a tongue so long he could play poker in the saloon while he serviced one of its fallen angels inna room 'round the corner. A gangrenous feller, too. Born green an' sickly-lookin', but ain't changed yet. Now he was a young feller, younger than annuh've the other outlaws whut lived there but he'd done about as much killin'. He also had a knack fer craftin', makin' everythang from plows t'sophisticated talkin' irons. They say that before electricity ever reached the west, Mort had all of Hoodlum Gulch runnin' on it.

These two, Creed an' Mort, were known t'wet their whistles at a special place in the Gulch called the Raven's Nest, run by one Raven Darkholme. Her stage name was "Mystique" whenever she performed an' fer a raven, she wus sure a black widder. Been married 'bout six times an' all her husbands turned up dead. Some say it was Creed--the man always had a thang fer 'er. Whutever the cause of their passin' she ended up richer with each one gone. Her waterin' hole was fullah some of the best doves--fallen angels who'd done somethin' wrong elsewhere an' needed a place t'hide. She also had her own crops fer makin' liquor. All of it was strong enough t'make a man wanna shoot off his own foot. Nobody knows whut she really looks like, though--I've seen 'er, an' even I'm not sure.

Finally, there was the man who ran the dang town in all its lawlessness: Erik Lensherr, the rancher with a cityfolk name. They say he started that town with money from five robbed banks. Built it downhill from his ranch so's he could just look outside his office window an' keep an eye on it. He was the most normal-lookin' of those special outlaws, too, 'cept he was old, an' walked with a young man's gait. He dressed in Sunday best everyday, an' no matter where he walked his boots never collected dust. He never carried a gun, neither, but they say he's been in more gunfights than any man. Didn't know how that could be possible, 'till I saw it with my own eyes. Y'see, I was one of the last lawmen t'ever try an' tame Hoodlum Gulch. Ya'll lean forward while I chew yer ear a spell. I reckon you won't believe me once the tale's been told, but I swear on the grave'ah my right arm, every word's truthful.

Back when I was a young buck, I didn't have no better sense than t'join the Nugget County Law Riders: A ragtag bunch've unemployed misfits that rode 'round restorin' peace to the towns in that area. Y'see, once gold fever hit that area, every man, woman an' child whut could hold a pick an' a six-shooter went claimin' other folks' land, gettin' into terrible squabbles. The Law Riders saw to it that folks stayed where they ought to an' didn't take whut wasn't theirs. Well I joined 'em right about the time when business was at its slowest, an' they had started takin' bounties t'pass the time. One particular book'ah bounties we received was thicker'n the Good Lord's book, an' every last one'ah them outlaws was said t'reside in Hoodlum Gulch.

Now the Law Riders weren't foolish: We knew that ridin' straight into a town've outlaws woulda gotten us killed, so they sent me t'do a li'l sneakwork in the midst of things. Bein' the newest member, I wouldn't yet have a reputation fer rightin' wrongs. So I rode in on a tired mule that died soon as I got it t'stable. I planned t'stay as long as it took t'earn the money fer a new ride, an'give the town a good look while I's there. It was right-even-tempered fer a place fullah murderers an' bank robbers. They had a grocery store, an inn, a saloon, a courthouse, blacksmith's, tanner's, you name it. Hell, they even had a bank an' a church! Though I never saw no parson go in an' out of the place--must've been just fer looks.

Ah set m'self up at the inn with the last've m'nickels, then trudged straight uphill t'where Mr. Lensherr had his ranch. Now, that plateau was flawless! Green grass all over, an' metal tubes runnin' uphill bringin' in water from the river! The man must've had dozens--no, hundreds in heads'ah cattle grazin out in his field, but I noticed that not one of 'em had the same brand. Now I never did learn numbers an' letters, but I did knew that ranches were supposed t'have their own brands on their cattle. So either Lensherr's ranch hands were makin' a fool'ah him, or he'd been stealin' cattle instead've raisin' it himself. I didn't pay that too much more 'tention, though, 'cause soon as I was spotted this pretty li'l Indian girl led me right into his house an' to his office. Hoowee, I ain't been nowhere that spacious in all my life! Rooms with rugs attached t'the floor, ceilin's high enough t'stub God's toe, an' hallways that stretched on fer yards. The Indian girl led me upstairs a few flights an' just had me sit outside a door. She went in but left it cracked a bit, so I got an earfull of a private conversation 'tween Lensherr an' Mortimer.

I heard Lensherr say, "So he killed the courier, then." He sounded right-proper in his speechin'.

Then Mort answered 'im. "Well, he was bein' belligerent, sir. An' you know how Creed can only take so much belligerence." Not very proper, but real humble-like, on accountah he was gettin' lectured to.

"Neither can I," the rancher replied. Then he gave Mort one'ah them guilt speeches, the kind folks give t'keep youngin's in line that they raised but didn't give birth to. All I know is that by the end've it, Mortimer promised not t'do again whutever he'd done, Mr. Lensherr didn't sound none like he believed 'im, but he let 'im go anyway. I got a good look at 'im wrapped head to foot in a poncho. He glared at me from behind the scarf that hid all but his eyes, an' I thought I was starin' into th'eyes of a Demon.

I didn't hear nothin' 'tween Lensherr and the Indian girl. She must've been deaf'r mute'r somethin'. But eventually she did step out an' wave me in. I took my hat off an' sidled into his office, feelin' almost shame t'be trackin' the trail on his fancy rugs. He was waitin' behind a mahogany desk with a ledger out in plain view. "Sir," I said, "my name is Geoffrey Miller, an' I came all this way by an' old mule who dun died on me. Now I got more trail t'blaze but without a ride I can't rightly do that. So if you'd let me work off th'debt, I'd like t'purchase a horse an' supplies offa yer ranch."

Old man Lensherr stared at me like I was a savage wanderin' into white man's territory. Don't think he trusted me a'tall, but when he finally spoke he kept just as cordial as any businessman would. He said t'me, "Mr. Miller, you most assuredly can't be from around this county, because those that are know that Hoodlum Gulch isn't the kind of place for just passing through." He went on to say, "Now, I know my meager establishment gives off the air of normalcy, but it is far from it. And it is very unfortunate that your... mule, was it? Has expired on you. However, I think for both our sakes, the best thing I can offer you is a horse, some water and directions to the nearest town in whatever direction you are headed."

Wouldn't you know it? Lensherr was gonna give me all that fer free, an' had I really been in such a bind, I would'ah took it. Still, I had a job t'do so I politely declined. "Wouldn't seem right to a man raised how I was just to take another man's horse an' hospitality fer free," I told 'im. "'Sides, I'm in no hurry t'get where I'm goin'r leave where I'm runnin' from. Let me stay long enough t'work off the debt, then I'll be on m'way. An' I swear I won't cause no trouble."

"Few do in Hoodlum Gulch," he told me. "And if you truly are running from somewhere, then you may find here to be the place you were running to. Many who live here are runners in some fashion. But I don't need to know about your marathon just yet. You may stay in Hoodlum Gulch, for now."

An' it was just that easy! Mr. Lensherr weren't no trustin' soul, but he sure was easy-goin'. Wouldn't let me work on his ranch, though--said he had enough ranch hands. 'Stead, he told me t'check with Mortimer down at the blacksmith's t'see whut I could do fer 'im.

So I went back downhill to Hoodlum Gulch, an' wouldn't you know it? That town was quiet. It was high noon an' not a soul stirred. The windows on all the buildin's were shut up with drapes an' only eyes could be seen pokin' out've 'em. Then, just as I reached the general store, a body came flyin' out the doors of the Raven's Nest! It was a husky feller but he weren't nothin' compared to whut stepped out next. Victor Creed loped his way past those swingin' doors--it was the first time I'd laid eyes on 'im. The other feller was shakin' in his jeans, crawlin' around in the dirt like a pig, but that Creed caught up with him an' lifted him by the back've his britches! Shoot, I'd never seen a man haul a sack'ah manure the way he lifted that man up with one hand an' threw him down again! Now I knew Mr. Lensherr had told me didn't nobody start trouble in Hoodlum Gulch, but I couldn't help but think, ain't this-here trouble?

T'tell the truth, I couldn't will my legs t'move despite seein' the General Store owner crack 'is door t'signal me in. I got lost in the spectacle've watchin' Creed grab this man by the top of his head an' lift him a good two'r three heads offah the ground! He had claws, all right, worse than any bears' I'd ever seen, an' they were diggin' straight into that man's skin causin' trails of blood t'stripe his whole face! An' while that poor feller started wailin' at the toppah his lungs, Creed let off a chuckle that sounded so deep an' sinister you'd have sworn Lucifer'd been told a good joke.

Creed talked right into the man's face, soundin' like a locomotive. "You broke the number one law in Hoodlum Gulch," he said. "Know yer place! An' since ya don't seem t'know where ya belong, lemme pick out a PLOT fer ya!"

Man, I knew the Law Riders were outmatched when I saw whut happened next. Creed took his free hand an' raked it sideways across the feller's gut. Then he reached in an pulled downward, seperatin' that feller's top from his bottom in one mighty yank! I felt sick just watchin' it but I swear I couldn't close my eyes if I coulda raised my hands to 'em! That's why I didn't notice 'til it was too late that Mortimer Toynbee were standin' right behind me. He puffed cigarette smoke into the back've my neck then shoved me so hard I fell face-flat on the front walk've the General Store! Then he put one foot on my back an' I swear I couldn't lift m'self up t'toss 'im off! Kinda strong fer a li'l guy, I thought.

Naturally, like I weren't in enough trouble fer bein' there as a Law Rider in disguise, Creed finished whut he was doin' with the dead man an' turned his attention t'us. He walked slow, like the sun was gonna wait fer 'im t'tell it when t'set. But on his way he did call t'the li'l guy, "What ya got there, runt? Someone else who needs placement?"

"I reckon so," Mortimer called back to 'im, an I couldn't get a word in on accountah he kept my face t'the wood. But Creed rectified that by heftin' me up by the collar'ah my shirt.

Soon as I took a breath I spoke. "I'm just in town fer a few days an' Lensherr said I was t'see Mortimer Toynbee about work in the blacksmith shop!"

What I said didn't sit right with Mort, though. "I told that man I didn't need no help in my shop," he whined, just like a li'l boy.

"Shaddup," Creed yelled at 'im. "He probably wants ya t'keep an eye on 'im. He is NEW, ya idgit!" Then he focused both his beady eyes on me. If I had been starin' into a Demon's eyes before, I had t'have been starin' into the Devil's right then. Black as a beast's an' fulla hate. "What's yer name," he asked me, an' I told 'im as quick as I could without stutterin'. "Well, Geoffrey," he growled, "there are a few laws ya'll have to go by while stayin' in Hoodlum Gulch. First, ya better know yer place, otherwise I'll pick one fer ya that you'll be in permanent-like. Second, don't nobody take a shit in this town unless Mr. Lensherr gives you say to, so just do what yer told an' ferget anythin' extra!" When he got t'the third law, he dropped me on m'rear an' turned t'walk away. "And third, learn t'take advantage of the all-you-can-drink nights at the Raven's Nest." He bellowed laughter over his shoulder, an' Mortimer joined in, followin' close behind while Creed headed fer the courthouse.

Well, after that I definitely needed a drink, so I wandered down t'the Raven's Nest t'see if I could start me a tab. Inside that place was nothin' like I'd ever seen! It weren't lit up by candlelight, instead these li'l glass balls were strung up by wires an' kept the room bright as the sun! In one corner there stood a player piano, an' next to it some strange iron contraption that had instruments pokin' out of it, an' that weren't the strangest part: It was playin' them instruments like it had lessons! Didn't recognize the tune but everyone in the Nest sure was enjoyin' it. The gals were up on stage doin' dances I'd never seen before, neither! Matter ah fact I was almost embarrassed t'watch, but weren't nobody else shame up in there so I figured I wouldn't be shamed, neither. I strolled right up t'the bar an' wouldn't you know it? T'was the prettiest gal in all the world servin' drinks. Her hair was gold as the nuggets that made Nugget County so famous, an' her eyes were bluer than the sky without clouds in it. Her skin was like fresh milk, too--I could see why so many fellers were starin' at her an' not the evenin' entertainment.

I started t'order a drink from 'er but before I could open m'mouth, there was a call fer "Mystique" t'have a turn on stage an' she's the one who went t'answer it. An' while she was on her way from behind the bar, she made a look-switch right before everyone's eyes! Her hair went from gold t'red, her eyes from blue t'gold, an' her skin got a bit darker! Even her dress became a lot more sultry, showin' off more of her torso than the Good Lord likes men t'see! I was dumbfounded but I reckon I was the only one seein' as how everyone else in the Raven's Nest just applauded. Some other, less prettier gal came behind the bar an' took m'order. I reckon I had t'drink a lot that night just t'help me take a likin' t'all this whut I was findin' out.

So that was basically my first day at Hoodlum Gulch. I was s'posed t'sneak out at night an' fill in the Law Riders, but I knew it weren't a good idea so I sent them a signal from m'window usin' a mirror an' morse code. They signal'd back that they would give me a week t'try an' steal away. 'Course it would take longer t'earn the money for a horse an' supplies, but I knew I'd thinkah somethin'.

So fer that whole week I worked at the blacksmith's shop an' pretended t'mind m'own business. All I had t'do was stack items an' sell things. Mort had some machines in the back that were doin' all the hard stuff. He'd tend to 'em every now an' then but mostly he'd stand in the store an' watch me like a vulture. Or skip out t'go get liquored up at the Raven's Nest. All in all, he seemed t'take a likin' t'me, which was probably my first mistake aside from comin' t'Hoodlum Gulch in the first place. But before that week was out, I actually got t'share a table with him an' Victor Creed in the Nest, an' from what the townsfolk told me, don't nobody do that without sufferin' harm afore the night is through. I did, though, so I took it as an honor back then. Nowadays I just think Mr. Lensherr told 'em not t'lay a hand on me an' they complied.

I started t'get a bit nervous when the end've the week came, but I wouldn't let it show. I'd already thought up what I was gonna tell Mr. Lensherr when the time came: That despite his hospitality I still didn't feel safe, that I wasn't far enough from what I was runnin' from, an' that if he would just give me the supplies I was owed, I'd walk t'the next town an' work fer a horse there. Real humble-like, figurin' he'd probably give me a horse anyway just t'stay gentlemanly. Before he let me go, though, he had a question fer me that I now think it was my mistake t'try an' answer.

He asked me, "What exactly are you running from, Mr. Miller?"

An' I answered him with, "I... can't rightly say, sir. It still weighs too heavy on my conscience." I don't think he took t'that response at all.

"Almost everyone here has done or had something done to them that weighs on their conscience, Mr. Miller," he told me. "The ladies in the Raven's Nest have all come from abusive situations where they broke even by killing their spouses or spiteful family members. Most of the men you see broke the law in one form or another to protect or feed their families, and rather than hang, they ran here until I could see to it that no harm would come to them or their loved ones. And then there are those like myself, Mr. Toynbee, Mr. Creed and Miss Darkholme, who, by our very birth, have broken the laws of nature and are condemned to be outcasts or die. Now tell me, Mr. Miller, what are you running from that could possibly be too much for my humble haven to provide protection for you?"

I swear, after a speech like that, I didn't much know whut t'say! Here I thought I was good at convincin' people of things, but that Lensherr feller almost had me wantin' t'stay. But I knew m'job an' I swore t'do it, so I made up the first thing that came t'mind. "Sir," I told 'im, "I reckon this place would be good fer hidin' someone like me, but the truth is, I don't much feel like I deserve it. Y'see, sir, I caused a whole buildin' t'burn down with people in it. Almost half a town wiped out 'cause of my foolishness. An' if I was a real man, I would turn right around an' face the lynch mob that's a-comin' my way. I reckon I plan t'let 'em catch me one day, but not before I go all the way west an' give some final words to a friend'ah mine in person."

A right-powerful speech've my own, if I do say so m'self! An' when I looked at Lensherr's face, I truly thought he believed it, too. He sat all quiet an' thoughtful, lookin' 'tween me an' that ledger book'ah his, tappin' his quill like it'd help 'im think. Then finally he spoke t'me. "I do not put myself between a man and his woes," he said. "Lord knows I have enough of my own not to make fresh ones out of someone else's. So if you truly feel this to be your honorable course of action, then Mr. Miller, in at least one regard, you are a far better man than I. As promised you the first day of your visit here, you will be given a horse, some water, and instructions to the nearest town in the direction of your choosing. I bid you good luck on your future, Mr. Miller. And try not to add any woes on top of the ones that weigh you down already. We wouldn't want you to end up like your mule."

After all that hospitality, I just couldn't believe there was a price on this man's head. An' such a hefty one at that! I got m'horse an' water, said goodbye t'summuh th'gals over at th'Raven's Nest, then Mortimer Toynbee pointed me in the direction'ah Fiddlesburg an' off I went. 'Course I already knew where that town was an' planned t'meet the other Law Riders in the mountains near it. They were anxious t'know all about my stay in Hoodlum Gulch an' I was anxious t'tell 'em. I had seen folks do strange things in that town, like some gal who fixed an injured horse's leg just by touchin' it, an' this one feller who could lift five barrels of water at once an' still move like he was on an evenin' stroll. That youngin', Mortimer, once dropped a rampagin' bull with a kick to the head. The bull had gotten loose from its run up at the ranch an' come chargin' downhill faster than the ranch hands could catch up with it. Mortimer came out've th'saloon just in time t'see it headin' fer the post office--I was steppin' out with him at the time. That boy leaped like he had gunpowder in 'is legs an' landed right in the path of th'bull! Then when it was almost close enough t'mow 'im down, he jumped over its head an' kicked backwards, right into th'back of that bull's skull. It stumbled forward then fell out in two steps, an' I ain't tellin' you no word'ah lie.

I had that an' more t'tell the Law Riders an' by the end of my report, it was decided we'd take a few days t'recruit some more men before handlin' the situation. I went into Fiddlesburg t'get some grub fer myself an' the others, an' that was probably my next mistake, bein' separate from the group. But they didn't want nobody t'know they were nearby an' I was the new kid of the posse, so I went. Don't much remember whut happened next, 'cept that I came down the ridge into the valley where Fiddlesburg was, an' somethin' hit me so hard I fell out.

When I woke up, took me a while t'realize it but I was back in Hoodlum Gulch. I was sittin' in a chair in a barn, untied, but that Creed feller had a powerful grip on my left shoulder an' I knew if I moved he woulda given me the same treatment as that man I saw a week ago. Mort was squat down in front'ah me, starin' at me like I'd poked 'is sister. Behind him, Erik Lensherr was standin' at a distance with one'ah them songbirds from the Raven's Nest on 'is arm. Coulda been Raven 'erself, I reckon, knowin' how well she could change her looks.

Although Creed was growlin' like he had somethin' t'say, it were Mortimer whut got the first words in. "Lousy stinkin' lawman thinks he can come into our town, use up our good nature, then bring his stinkin' posse in here to claim our lives," he barked, an' spittle was just a-sprayin' in my face! I think he woulda had some more words, an' maybe some actions fer me, had Mr. Lensherr not shut 'im up by callin' 'im by name.

"That's enough, Mr. Toynbee," he said, then let go of th'songbird an' strode forward a bit. "Although you are right. Mr. Miller has been quite rude to us, despite all the manners we have 'heaped' onto him." Then he asked me, "Is that your real name, Mr. Miller, or was that a lie as well?"

"Yes sir, that's m'name," I admitted t'im. I had figured in the past that the Law Riders would do away with him an' his crew, so bein' truthful about my name wouldn't have made a difference.

"Then that is one point of redemption for you," he said, but Creed's grip didn't let up none. "Understand, Mr. Miller," Lensherr went on t'say, "that I am not a bad man, but I am not a good man, either. I am a business man, and I care that my business runs smoothly at all times. Now, as a rancher, which is a type of businessman--I am explaining things fully so that you'll understand what's about to happen to you and your cohorts. I am aware that in dealing with livestock, I will also have to deal with a few pests of various grades. With the grain I keep, I deal with rats and mealworms. With the cattle I graze, I deal with flies and ticks. And with the beings I protect, I deal with lawmen who think that they are better judges of people than I. Oh, they have a season, just like the flies and the rats. Usually once a year, around this time, they'll ride in and try to take us by force."

Right about then I felt like such a dang fool fer goin' along with this plan in the first place. If folks did this sorta thing t'Lensherr all th'time, then it weren't no wonder he knew how t'act so calm an' unsuspectin' when I wandered his way.

"None have ever lived to tell outsiders how well-prepared we are to deal with lawmen," he told me, "but you will, Mr. Miller. I'm going to send you out into the world as my personal messenger, to tell the story of what you've seen and heard here, and how only a fool would set foot here with thoughts of straightening my people out. Yes, they are my people, Mr. Miller, they are fearful of the world and want only their few transgressions forgiven so they can live in peace before they die. But your world, your people, Mr. Miller, are very unforgiving. Those that know it run to me and you're going to tell them where to run, if you happen to pass them by. Everyone else, however, I want you to give a warning to. Make something up. I know you're good at it. But make sure they understand that coming here means death for anyone who intends to put me out of business. Do you understand?"

Hell, all I could do right then was nod. "Good," he said, then looked down at Mortimer. "Let's see with which hand you normally shoot. Catch." Then the youngin' threw a pistol at me, an' instinctively I reached fer it with m'right hand. Maybe I woulda fired it, if'n I'da thought they'd be fool enough t'give me a loaded weapon. I did aim it, though, which I guess is all Lensherr wanted me t'do. "Very good," he said, then motioned with two fingers an' I swear t'you that gun jumped right outta my hand an' alla way into his! Then he passed it to th'songbird an' nodded once while lookin' at Creed. At that moment, Creed's grasp on m'left shoulder became more forceful an' he took hold'ah my right arm with his free hand. He started pullin', an' even t'this day I feel the pain've havin' my right arm yanked right out've its socket! "Don't worry," Mr. Lensherr said overtop'ah m'wailin', "we have a very gifted doctor here who'll see to it that your wound heals perfectly. However, I'm afraid your career as a lawman is over now, Mr. Miller. Try not to take it personally, it is, after all, just business."

I laid in the jailhouse fer a few days after that. The doctor came t'see me right away an' did like Lensherr promised--She touched me like she had touched that horse an' my flesh sealed right up like no arm had ever been there. An' they still lent me all sortsah hospitality while I was in that cell, from bringin' me good viddles t'even teachin' me how t'eat with m'left hand. Then on the third day, Creed came t'collect me, wantin' me t'witness whut was about t'happen to the Law Riders. He stood me out in the street 'tween himself an' Mortimer, while Lensherr an' that songbird of his stood ahead to th'east. Them two had somethin' heavy an' iron layin' in the dirt behind 'em, but you'll find out whut that did later.

The Law Riders were comin' from the way t'Fiddlesburg an' I could tell even at a distance they'd gone an' increased their numbers. Must've been thirty or more men on horseback, all of 'em ridin' t'get killed. I felt even worse knowin' I'd live t'talk about it. A man never wants t'be the only man on his side that survives a battle. The Law Riders came up in formation, stoppin' twenty yards from Lensherr an' his crew, each one holdin' a pistol'r shotgun of his choosin'. Matt Hestor--that was the leader of the Law Riders--well when he saw me, I think he knew that things were gonna work out as they did. Still he kept his stern-faced composure an' waited fer the first word.

Bein' a fool an' young m'self, I tried t'warn 'im. "Go on, Hestor," I called t'im, "lead the men away from here! Yer gonna die here, yer gonna die!" Funny they didn't try t'shut me up; matter ah fact, Erik Lensherr actually agreed with me.

He said, "Heed the word of your first retiree before he turns out to be your last, Mr... Hestor, was it?"

"Matt Hestor," ol' Matt called back t'him.

Then Lensherr responded with, "Well then, Mr. Hestor, I do hope that you're a practical man, not out to waste the lives of dozens of complete strangers and comrades, all for a little reward money."

"No sir, I'm not. This ain't about money, though I fully believe in gettin' paid for doin' good deeds. This here's about the law, an' how you can't go pickin' an' choosin' which ones t'follow an' which ones t'break."

Whut he said must've been amusin' 'cause Lensherr smirked while Mortimer an' Creed laughed. "Oh how fictitiously noble of you to want to uphold a law that only protects one kind of person: Wealthy, land-owning and God-fearing white men who pay taxes by day and rape Indian Squaws by night. Why, I'm certain they sleep soundly knowing that once a week you defend their unjustified venture in Manifest Destiny."

Now I had no idea whut Lensherr was spoutin' on about, but I reckon Matt did 'cause he sure answered 'im. "Whatever's between the white man an' savages I ain't concerned with now," he said. "What I'm concerned with are the affairs between white man an' white man. When our fathers came here, they agreed t'live by a set of laws an' to see to it that their offspring would do the same."

"Nevermind that laws and a society had already been established before their arrival, hmm?" Oh I tell you, it was a powerful battle'ah words! An' fer a minute there, I thought th'whole thing would be over without a single bullet fired. Then Lensherr's tone turned a bit more threatenin'. "Yes, Mr. Hestor, you do uphold laws, but you are as far from justice as the so-called savages are from your brand of civilization. Now I have promised at least one interloper that he may leave these grounds, and I gave your entire battalion fair warning, allowing plenty of time for any one of them to turn their horses around and abandon your self-righteous cause. But since cowardice and stupidity outweigh common sense among your brood, I'll just have to see you all killed. Let's get rid of those guns, shall we?"

Erik Lensherr waved one've his hands an' every pistol an' shotgun went flyin' over the rooftops of Hoodlum Gulch. The Law Riders looked dumbfounded, but in a minute they didn't even look that good: That songbird who I reckon was Raven Darkholme suddenly bulked up like a super-human wrestler. It looked unseemly in that dress'ah hers, even if it stretched t'fit. Then she turned an' picked up that heavy iron contraption that was layin' behind her, an' kneelin', held it on one shoulder. Mortimer Toynbee jumped forward an' took a long ribbon of whut looked like bullets from underneath his poncho an' started feedin' 'em into the thang. Then the front part've it started turnin' an' these five iron tubes in it started spittin' out bullets like they was watermelon seeds. The Law Riders could barely yelp'r plea as each shot clipped one've 'em in the chest'r, head'r, stomach--Hell, even the horses weren't spared! They became such a bloody mess I couldn't stand t'look, but everytime I turned m'head away Creed would turn it back. Almost broke m'neck the third time, too.

When that machine stopped spittin' an' Miss Darkholme threw it down, all I could hear was the sound'ah men dyin' an' that youngin', Mortimer, laughin' like there weren't a pile'ah men an' horses layin' in their own blood. "Told ya! Didn't I tell ya," he cheered an' Erik Lensherr nodded his head in approval.

He said to the boy, "An adequate test run, but can you make it faster?" An' I thought to m'self, Faster? Why you just mowed down a whole heapah men in seconds! But Mortimer nodded quick like he was sure've 'imself, an' Lensherr looked satisfied at his response. Then he said, "They're all yours, Mr. Creed. Toy with them, eat them, whatever suits your sadistic pallet. Just have the area clean by sunrise tomorrow. I do not want the smell of carcass to fill this gulch."

Creed answered 'im with that loud laugh'ah his, an' took his hand offa me t'go do his business. That's prettymuch how that day ended, with Creed leapin' into the pile'ah men like they was a haystack. Miss Darkholme took the bullet-sprayin' machine an' carried it up the hill after Lensherr headin' to the ranch, an' Mortimer escorted me back to th'jailhouse. The next day, they sent me off again with a horse an' more supplies than before. I reckon fer the first few weeks I never spoke t'nobody about it, not believin' that it happened at all, though missin' an arm was plenty proof. Now, though, I think I've been tellin' this story fer years. Don't know whut's become'ah Hoodlum Gulch, but I reckon it still ain't the kinda place you wanna venture to if'n yer goin' there t'cause trouble. Sure, the place was friendly enough: They'd welcome you with open arms an' pour you a drink on the house. But if you didn't have a good reason t'be there, their hospitality'd cost you an arm. Yessir, take it from me.