Once Ella had dressed and pulled her hair into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, Joey casually slung his rifle over his shoulder and they headed out of the abode, passing the two young women already re-washing Joey's shirt, and made for the saloon. Ella softly caught Joey's arm and he turned briefly to her his stride not faltering.

"What if Beulah's right and this John Wesley Hardin is crazy Joey?"

"I already said I do not care, the old man is no match for me." His tone was simple as if she was asking a question that everyone should already know the answer to.

"Just be careful." She half whispered under her breath.

Joey pushed open the door and walked inside with an air of ease about him. The three men sat at a table looked up from their talk and glasses to see who had entered. Realizing who it was their conversation began to return to a trickle. Joey picked a table near the door, close by the only small window that was covered with a large dirty rag. Ella followed him apprehensively already feeling the men's eyes upon her.

They took their seats, Ella making sure to push her own chair a little closer to Joey as Joey gave the bartender a small nod stating that he wished for a bottle and some cups. After handing over payment the man brought over what had been silently asked for and returned to his seat. Joey took off his hat and gloves and lay them carefully upon the table before he pulled the top off the bottle and poured himself a drink then filled Ella's cup. He began to sip stoically at the liquid his expression seemingly uninterested in his surroundings but Ella could see the fierce alertness within his icy eyes signaling that he was weighing everything around him, calculating every outcome and danger.

"I seen Ben Lily yesterday. He sold me an antelope haunch." The bar man said making Ella jump slightly with the sudden noise after the fetid silence.

Ella glanced up and saw he was addressing the thin man, from his cool presence and the authority that seemed to drip from every pore of his dirt streaked face she quickly came to the assumption that this was John Wesley Hardin, she couldn't shake the feeling she knew that face, perhaps she had seen his picture in one of Billy's newspapers.

"Ben Lily still around?" Hardin drawled

"Yeah, he's still around."

"He sold you an antelope haunch, why ain't you cooked it?" Hardin said looking up from the task of cleaning his gun.

"I don't cook. Beulah cooks, but she ain't been around lately." The bar men said with a sniff looking with annoyance towards Joey, he continued sorting through a few of the empty bottles, shaking them to see if anything could be salvaged from the very bottoms.

Hardin glanced over at Joey, his eyes racked across the young boy, sizing him up. "That's because she bunks with the young killer here. He's been around two days, and he's already corralled half the whores." He said continuing his chore.

Joey glanced back at the older man as he took another sip, his gaze not leaving Hardin as he drank. Hardin gave a snort of a laugh as if commending the boy's bravado before he turned his wild eyes upon Ella. Ella could feel herself squirming under his look, there was something about him that made her feel uneasy… strange. She glanced at him warily as his eyes seemed to burn into her he stared so hard. She began to get a trickle of remembrance but pushed it back, she blocked so many things from her past over the years she did not want to open the flood gates now and allow it all to come pouring through, she didn't think she was strong enough to handle such a thing in her current position.

"Don't see why he needs whores when he's brought such a pretty one of his own."

The corner of Joey's eye twitched.

"Tell me Sweetheart." Hardin said leaning forward across his table, his gaze intently upon her. "You ain't no Mexican, wouldn't you rather be with a real man?" He gave a hoarse laugh and Ella noticed Joey closed his eyes for a split second quelling his anger, she knew what his mind was thinking, the insult was not worth getting into a blood bath over, not now…

Hardin sat back in his chair his tongue flicking out briefly to wet his lips.

"You look familiar." He said in a lazy drawl. "My, my girl that you do." Ella knew he was playing with her, he knew her alright she felt sure of it.

Ella glanced at him nervously, her eyes racking over his face trying to remember if she had indeed seen him before, a name flashed into her head….

"Ah." He said casually. "You're tryin' to remember." He lit a cigar and puffed on it a moment. "That ain't a good sign." He laughed lowly and Ella shifted her eyes from him, still fully feeling his gaze upon her. Her heart beating a little faster, she knew he had been one of her customer's…. she knew him all too well like a lump of stone weighing itself down upon her, Wes, she knew him, her mouth went dry. He would give away her secret, Joey would know about her past, she glanced at the young man beside her and felt her heart beat even faster knowing he would be angry…

"Ah now it comes back to me, in Texas I…"

The door burst open stopping Hardin's flow of words and Ella closed her eyes in relief. A large, fat man with a scruffy beard, blackened face and a sledge hammer stormed in, his look thunderous.

"Hardin, it's costin' me fifty cents to have a grave dug for that helper boy of mine. Now you shot him. The least you could do is chip in the fifty cents." He flipped his hammer in anger, his manner threatening.

Hardin didn't even bother to look up his eyes now once again intent upon his gun. "Why waste money buryin' a negra?" He said in a low voice.

"We all gotta be buried!" The scruffy man said in clear contempt.

Hardin didn't answer almost acting as if the man had already left.

"Hardin! That boy cost me fifty dollars! That's fifty dollars for the boy and fifty cents for the grave. You owe me fifty dollars and fifty cents." The man continued flipping his hammer a few more times obviously feeling this action gave him some air of power.

Hardin finally looked at him his eyes hard and dangerous. "Don't stand there talkin' nonsense to me Lordy, when I'm workin' hard at gettin' drunk." He warned putting down his gun and picking up his drink. "Just drag your man off behind a sandhill. That big pig will eat him, and save you fifty cents." He downed the liquid in one go.

"I want my money!"

Hardin took in a hiss of a breath as the whiskey caught the back of his throat. "Anyway, you're a fool if you paid cash for him, It ain't even legal to buy negra's anymore." He picked up his gun again and rolled the chambers. "Abe Lincoln seen to that." He gave a sly smile towards the other two men with him and they in turn let out a chuckle.

"You owe me!" Lordy said continuing to flip his hammer. "You give it over an' you give it over now!"

Ella noticed Hardin's face twitch a little, his eyes taking on a crazy snap. "You ignorant sunvabitch I heard you!" He said his voice rising slightly the anger appearing hard and cold behind his eyes. "Now if you wanna live get gone, if you'd rather die flip that goddamn hammer one more time."

The two men stared at each other; the bearded man hesitated, his hammer coming to a stop in his hand as he considered his options.

"I doubt you're the killer that you claim to be Hardin." He said as if testing the water.

"I don't claim nothin'!" Hardin said heatedly his anger coming into full play.

Ella glanced at Joey, uncomfortable with the growing tension around them, Joey watched on his look unconcerned.

The two men continued to glare at each other. "I don't claim a goddamn thing." Hardin's voice was low and once again dangerous.

"I'd like to smash your ugly face." Lordy said with a snarl taking a few steps towards the table. "But I guess I'll leave that pleasure to Captain Call." He smiled as if he felt he had just won the battle of words.

For a moment no emotion registered upon Hardin's face.

"Woodrow Call?" He finally asked in a dark voice. "Woodrow Call's comin' to Crow Town." He said as if thinking the words out loud before he laughed and turned to his friends. "That's bold for an old turd his age." He grinned and gave another laugh, the two men joined him in the humor of the moment. He paused before looking back at the bearded man. "He arrested me once, but that was over a feud I got into in Lampasas. Call ain't the sheriff in Crow Town." He said in a matter of fact way

"Well, he's comin, but he but he ain't after you. You ain't important enough no more, Hardin. You're just an old killer, waitin' to die."

The smile slowly slipped from Hardin's lips. "Then why's he comin' then?" He gave another sly smile to his friends. "Does he expect t' clean out the town?"

"No." Lordy said turning towards Joey and indicating to him with his hammer. "He's comin' for the güero here." He paused. "He's comin' for this 'Joey'."

Joey's lips hinted with a fleeting look of pleasure. Hardin's eyes were fully upon him now, studying him again with a kind of resentment flashing behind his eyes.

Lordy turned back on Hardin again his temper flaring. "Now come on Hardin, hand over that money. I ain't got no reason to give you a free helper to kill!" He flipped the hammer absently.

Joey glanced at the bearded man his look stating plainly that he though him a complete fool.

Hardin cocked his gun with a simple flip. "I hate idiots like you." He said calmly before pulling the trigger. The shot rang out through the small room, Ella jumped as Lordy recoiled, falling violently against the wall from the impact, he held his gut as a large red stain began to seep into his shirt, his look was opened mouthed shock as his body slowly slid down the wall.

Joey took in a small breath as if he were tired with the happenings around him, he picked up his cup and drained a little more of the liquid as Ella gazed on in repulsed shock between Hardin and the man he had just shot in cold blood.

"No wait a minute, don't die on me." Hardin said in a dry drawl. "When's Captain Call due to show up?"

Lordy gave out a strange grasp, his face registering the full surprise that he had just been shot, he glanced at his bloody hand looking suddenly sick from the sight of it. "Soon I reckon." He said his voice shaking, he coughed, blood appearing upon his lips. He tried to struggle to his feet before falling back down in a heap.

Hardin poured himself another drink. "Good. Maybe he'll make it in time for your funeral." He said casually. "Don't sit there, go outside and die. Nobody wants you dyin' in here. This is a proper saloon and we have a lady with us." He saluted Ella in a silent toast before downing the liquid.

"Oh, Lord ...it hurts." Lordy said in a gasp.

"I expect so." Hardin gave a raspy laugh. "That's what a 44 slug is meant to do." The other men around them gave out nervous laughter. "Now, I thought I told you not to die in here, you ugly bastard." Hardin said pouring himself another drink.

Lordy was no longer listening, he twitched violently his whole body seizing up, his eyes glazing over until finally he was still, blood coating his chin.

"Well." Hardin began in mock exasperation. "I tried to get the stubborn sunvabitch to go outside, but he wouldn't. You'll have to drag him out, Pat." He said glancing at the barman.

"He's dead, now we're without a blacksmith." Pat said looking over at the dead man.

"Good, I disliked the bastard. Drag him on out now, he'll start stinkin' any minute." Hardin said his voice becoming annoyed.

"You drag him out, you shot him. " Pat said cleaning a cup with a dirty rag.

Hardin closed his eyes, his brow furrowing in temper. "I won't have my mornin' spoilt by havin' to drag off a dead fool." He said simply. When he re-opened his eyes his gaze focused upon Joey. "You drag him outta here boy."

Joey glanced up over his cup as he took another drink, his look icy and defiant, stating all too plainly he would not do anything the older man wished.

"Wes, you need to hold your temper. That was the only blacksmith within a hundred miles." Pat fussed quietly.

"Did you hear me boy!" Hardin said ignoring Pat and focusing his temper upon the young boy before him. "Drag this man outta here!"

Joey placed his cup back upon the table his eyes meeting Hardin's in a silently battle, he pressed his lips together for a moment and said nothing. Ella glanced at them both as the standoff continued, her heart drummed hard within her throat at what the outcome would be.

Hardin was the first to break the contact a small huff of laugher escaping him. "What the hell, is everybody stubborn in this town?" He leaned forward his eyes once again fixed upon Joey. "Why would they send Call after a pup like you?"

Joey lightly shook his head. "They didn't send him after me because of the killings, they sent him after me because gringos don't like losing money." His tone was cool but matter-of-fact.

Hardin gave a small laugh his lips turning up in a crazy grin. "That's right." His voice was almost impressed, he got up from his seat and began to amble casually towards them. "It's the money, not the murders. It don't cost the damn pigs a cent for us to kill one another off out here in the baldies. Why would they care? Out here on the Pecos, it's fine to steal from one another." He pulled out a chair opposite them and turned it around, sitting astride it and resting his arms upon the back. "But we better not rob no trains from the East, where them damn Yankees keep their money." His eyes calmed a little. "How much did you get, güero? I heard it was a million, and I heard it was the army's money." He paused.

Joey lowered his cup, pressing his lips together, his eyes cool.

"Feelin' a little closed mouthed today, are you?" Hardin asked teasingly.

Ella noticed the barman, Pat, looking jittery his eyes saying he did not want two murders happening within his saloon in one day.

"You'd do better to talk to yourself, Wes. My ears get tired, just listenin' to you cuss." He walked out from behind the bar over to where the dead body of Lordy lay.

"Be glad you can hear me, Pat, it means I ain't shot you yet." Hardin said his eyes still upon Joey.

Pat called over the other man and they began the task of trying to lug the huge dead man out of the saloon.

Hardin studied Joey a small hint of a smile appearing upon his lips, lightening his features. "You remind me of myself, when I was younger an' better-lookin'."

Joey did not return the smile or anything else instead he slowly got up from his seat, picked up his rifle, hat and gloves and glanced at Ella, telling her with a single movement of his head that they were leaving.

"Hold on." Hardin said in a low drawl catching Joey's attention. "I'll give you a little free advice killer."

Joey stopped and turned to look at him a hint of curiosity in his eyes at what the old killer would say.

"You said it yourself, stealin' is a more dangerous habit in these parts than killin'." He paused. "But if you've a tendency to steal, you'd best stay clear of Judge Roy Bean. He can't abide a thief."

Joey swung his rifle over his shoulder his manner still unconcerned.

"If he catches you with money in your pockets, he'll hang you promptly, and keep the money."

Joey shook his head lightly. "No, he won't hang me, but I might hang him. For sport. Por nada." His eyes narrowed a little at the last word, it coming out as a dangerous breath.

Ella became aware that Joey was actually trying to impress the man before them.

Hardin's crazy smile appeared back on his face, his eyes dancing. "Now, that's original. That would make the papers!" His voice now bore a fondness towards the young man in front of him. "Old Call might get fired over that." His smile faded. "No, my advice is to let Roy go, and kill Famous Shoes. You heard of him ain't ya?"

"My mother knows him. Why should I kill that old man?" Joey said eyeing Hardin with distrust.

"Because Famous Shoe's on his way south, to track for Call. If you don't shoot him first, he's gonna lead Call right to you. Famous Shoes don't miss."

Joey cast a cocky glance at the men in the bar his cool blue eyes coming to rest once again upon Hardin his look cold and blank. "Bueno Viejo." He slowly placed his hat upon his head. "Neither do I."

Joey ushered Ella out before him, closing the door behind them, leaving Hardin more than a little baffled and impressed by the young man's dauntless attitude.