1877, August 17
Arthur moved through the streets of Santa Fe, on business with the Santa Fe Ring. A dapper man in a suit greeted Arthur when arriving at a certain saloon.
He tips his hat, "Arthur, good day."
Arthur nods, "Good day too you as well, James."
"I was hoping to speak to you about the last shipment of food that Murphy was talking about.." He spoke to him, as they made their way inside and upstairs.
"The shipment meant for those Indians? What about?" Arthur asked confused.
"Well, there may be a shortage, large portions of goods are missing and its worrying many of us, not just the out dated goods, but the goods meant for New England and California." James replied.
"And how will you handle this?" He asks, worried.
"I was hoping that you would at least cover the Indians, while we sort everything out.." By now, the two are in a room alone.
"I see what this is about now.. I'll sort this all out, I'll go there to the reservation if I have too." Arthur assured his friend.
"Thank you, I was worried since Murphy is having everyone checked, and to find out how so much goods can go missing."
"Don't worry about it, but I do hope to treat myself while I'm here.."
"Of course of course! I think you'll enjoy of something we recently got our hands on.."
Henry sat alone in the saloon in the corner, drinking his sarsaparilla, until a disturbance entered the saloon. The town's blacksmith, Frank P. Cahill, entered with a smug grin, causing trouble was his thing. The bully sort of trouble.
"Hey hey hey! Everyone look! If it ain't the dumb kid himself!" Frank exclaimed loudly, "I bet he's a goat! Scared ol' Billy Goat!"
Everyone laughed as Frank stared to approach the teen.
"Stupid stupid Billy..." He then grabbed Henry and wrestled him to the ground.
".. Get off me Frank.. You're drunk.." The teen grunted.
Frank spoke in a low voice, "I bet you, yer ma was a goat too." He grinned again.
No one heard that and no one saw how mad Henry became, and how he pulled out his six-shooter and shot Frank.
After the shot rang out, Henry pushed him over, people in the saloon tried to help Frank, but within the 30 seconds of being shot, he was dead.
Henry was still shocked and shaking, he panicked and rode off. He probably wouldn't be in any trouble since it was self defense, but it was too late.
Henry McCarty killed a man, and now he returns to New Mexico Territory, were a war awaits him.
[A/N] I ran out of ideas and forgot this existed, to the one person look likes this, thank you. As much as I want to write more, its 1:22am. I'll start on the gay soon. Also ages and numbers hurt my brain.