Mid-morning on the third day, the train pulled into a rail yard in San Diego. The men inconspicuously disembarked from the train and out into the California town. Chris found a telegraph station and wired Buck. He couldn't imagine what the boys back in Four Corners must have been thinking. He didn't go into details; just told them that they had been stranded for a few days and had to get another train. He also wired Maude and let her know that they should be in San Francisco the following evening. He had asked around about the Barker family, obtained an address, and sent flowers along with a letter telling them of Elizabeth's heroic actions on the train.
As Chris was penning the letter, Vin asked, "don't you think we should go visit them in person….since we're right here?"
"Vin, I just don't know how they're takin' all of this. It could even be that they blame us for what happened….she probably would have lived if she hadn't try to warn us. I certainly don't want to upset them any more than they already are."
The tracker understood that, but it just didn't seem like enough. Even though he had only known Elizabeth for a few days, he knew her memory was one that would stick with him….and haunt him.
Ezra had seamlessly fallen back into his usual habits and had spent the evening at the local saloon. He had decided it was time to remove the sling, which certainly facilitated his card-playing. Nathan had said the sling should be on for another week, and although Chris and Vin argued that he should probably give it another couple of days after all of the recent abuse, Ezra said that "a week is a week, gentlemen" and off it came. The men rented a room for the night and planned to catch another train to San Francisco the following morning. They all were in desperate need of a good meal and a real bed.
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The train pulled into the San Francisco station at about 5PM the next evening. Much to Vin and Chris' surprise, Maude was waiting at the station with a carriage to take them to her residence.
Mrs. Standish was a bit taken by Ezra's appearance: the broken arm, the cut on his uncharacteristically-tanned face, and he was thinner than the last time she saw him, but she held her tongue. Ezra's mother simply kissed her boy's cheek and said, "I am delighted to see you, Ezra," before turning to greet Vin and Chris.
Their party stopped at the telegraph office on their way to Maude's to pick up a telegram from Buck. Mary had told them about a train robbery, and they were worried that Chris, Vin, and Ezra had been involved. Chris just smiled to himself. Would he tell them the truth when they got back?
As they pulled up to the house, Larabee and Tanner offered to find a room to rent nearby. Maude insisted they too stay with her.
Maude's new beau was a man named Alan Cummings, and he was, of course, a very wealthy man. His mansion sat on a cliff over-looking the sea, and the home was full of lavish furnishings. Mr. Cummings was currently out of town on business, and from what Chris could gather at least – the man was some sort of banker or broker.
The three men had supper with Maude, an exquisite meal of veal and potatoes prepared by Mr. Cummings' personal chef and kitchen staff.
Vin and Chris excused themselves not long after to allow Ezra and his mother catch up. The two men put their belongings in their respective quarters, cleaned up a bit, and reconvened in Tanner's room.
"I want to find the local sheriff in the morning," Chris said, "turn over the suitcases and let them deal with the money and passengers' belongings."
"Ya think we can trust 'em?" Vin wondered aloud. "It's an awful lot of money."
"I guess we could try to contact someone in charge of the railroad, but I'm guessing those folks are crooked-er than any sheriff we might find."
"Can't argue with that," Tanner yawned. "I'll go with you tomorrow, but I think I'm about done in for today."
Chris stood. The faint sound of someone moving around outside the door never registered with either of the tired men. "Goodnight, Vin."
"Goodnight, Cowboy."
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"Why were you detained three or four days in arriving here?" Maude turned to her son and asked.
"The first train that we boarded got robbed, and my associates and I were detained, as you say, in dealing with the miscreants," Ezra explained tersely, hoping that would be enough of an explanation.
"Is that how you injured yourself?" his mother probed.
"The arm injury is an old one and nearly healed. The facial laceration was from the train robbery," Ezra was surprised that she was spending so much time discussing his welfare.
"This is just one more reason that you need to leave your current occupation, my boy," Maude continued. "You cannot pull off sophisticated cons looking like a ruffian."
"Ah," Ezra now understood his Mother's comments, "and I simply thought you were concerned for my welfare, dear Mother."
"Well, of course I am," Maude stuttered. "I…I just want my beautiful baby boy to stay…beautiful."
Ezra decided it was best to simply change the subject. "So, will I have the opportunity to meet this Mr. Cummings before I leave?"
"Yes, I believe you should. He was planning to return to San Francisco day-after-tomorrow," Maude answered. "He really is quite a remarkable man, Ezra."
"In that he is extensively well-funded, has a beautiful home, but is rarely here?" Ezra smiled.
"Precisely," Maude grinned back. "It is a wonderful arrangement."
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"Vin and I are going to take a walk around town," Chris informed Ezra and Maude over coffee the next morning. Chris had the suitcases, so Ezra knew that the men were determined to find someone to "un-burden" them, once again, from the possibility of wealth. None of them made any mention to Maude about what was in the suitcases.
Ezra planned to spend the day seeing the sights of San Francisco with his mother. "You two should stop in at a local merchant and purchase Mr. Tanner some new clothing," Standish reminded them. "Then we can all go out for supper this evening."
Vin just shook his head and went outside to drink the rest of his coffee. Sometimes Chris and Ezra talked about him and treated him like he was a child. Why didn't they think he was capable of shopping for himself? He had even learned to read over the last year, but that didn't seem to change the others' opinions that he was ignorant in the ways of the civilized world. The frustration gradually faded away as he sat on the stoop in the morning sunshine. The weather was nice: not too hot and not too cold. San Francisco was definitely not for him though; in the fifteen minutes he had been outside, he had already seen over a hundred people pass by on the streets – that was more than the entire population of Four Corners.
Chris came out a few minutes later, with the suitcases, and he and Vin headed east towards the closest sheriff's office. They walked up a steep hill, with small shops on each side. Chris jokingly pointed to a 4-piece suit in one of the windows, and said, "there you go, Vin. What would the ladies of Four Corners say if they saw you get off the stage wearing that?"
"They'd prob'ly say, 'Vin musta lost a bet with Ezra somewhere 'tween here and San Francisco'," Tanner smiled. There was no way in hell he would be caught dead wearing something like that. If he bought anything, it would just be a decent pair of dark brown or black pants. His shirts were fine.
All of a sudden, the grin was gone from the tracker's face, and he stopped and looked around.
It took Larabee a minute to realize that Vin was no longer beside him, but once he did he turned and headed back. "What's up?" Chris could see that something had Tanner puzzled.
"Heard a noise," Vin said quietly, "sounded like a gun cocking, Chris."
Larabee began looking around as well, and the men backed into the closest alleyway to get out of plain sight.
As soon as Larabee's gun cleared his holster, two masked men attacked. Chris' Colt was knocked free, and the two peacekeepers were slammed into the opposite wall of the alley. Vin's head cracked loudly against the stone wall, and he crumpled to the ground. Larabee took a minute to get his breath after having the wind knocked out of him. His ribs were screaming in pain, and he knew he had lost his gun. He still held the bank money suitcase in his left hand. The thug who attacked Vin had already taken the suitcase with the train passengers' belongings.
As the second thug approached Larabee to pull him to his feet, Chris swung the suitcase up hard, breaking the man's nose. Blood immediately poured down the masked face, and Chris was hoping Vin was ok and woke up soon. Vin's attacker took over for the bleeding man. He handed his companion the first suitcase and went after Larabee. Both attackers had weapons of their own, but they preferred not to use them. On the busy streets of San Francisco, someone was bound to hear gunshots.
Chris again tried to use the suitcase as a weapon, but this time the man swatted it out of Larabee's hand. It went flying down the alley. As the thug turned to tell his friend to go get it, Chris charged into the man's stomach, knocking him off his feet. The man was stronger and heavier than Larabee and quickly rolled the gunslinger off of him. He then hauled Chris back to his feet, slammed Larabee hard into the wall once again, and began pummeling him in the face and stomach. The other thug kept an eye on Tanner and threw a few cheap kicks and punches in on both men when he got the chance. Larabee was fighting for all he was worth, but he could feel his strength waning. His face and head had been punched and slammed into the wall so many times that he finally lost consciousness. The two beaten and bloody peacekeepers were left in the alley, $20,000 poorer than when they entered.
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Chris came to a few minutes later and knew he needed to check on Vin. Once his eyes were able to focus, he could see blood running down the wall behind where the unconscious tracker still sat. His mind was telling him to get up and go to his friend, but his body was not cooperating. The pain in his back and side flared every time he tried to move, and he became dizzy if he tried to stand. So, Larabee crawled, slowly, across the alley.
"Vin," Chris' rough voice said, as he gently slapped the tracker's face. "You alright? Come on Vin. Wake up for me." Vin's lip was busted, but him being knocked out right away saved his face from the beating that Chris' had taken.
Vin eventually opened a blue eye to see a battered Larabee kneeling in front of him. Chris' left eye was already bruised and swollen, and the patches of dark-colored blood stood out in contract to the pale face and blond hairline.
"Chris?" Vin reached his arm up to touch the back of his own aching head and felt free-flowing blood. "Damn," he croaked. "I must've smacked it good."
The stubborn tracker was trying to stand, but Chris gently held him down. "Give it a minute, Vin. You got a pretty good lump back there."
The tired gunslinger simply sat down on the ground to wait for Tanner to fully wake up. "What the hell are we gonna do now?" Chris said as he ran his hand through his hair.
"They take the money?" Vin groaned out, clearly still in pain.
"Yeah," Chris answered quietly. "It's like they knew, Vin. How the hell would anybody have known what we had in those cases?"
Vin's head hurt terribly, and he had to swallow back nausea as he said, "don't know, Chris. Maybe Ezra told Maude?"
"Maude's a con, but she ain't a criminal," Chris sighed.
"That's an awful lot of money, Cowboy. I'm sure less has turned perfectly good citizens into criminals before."
"Yeah, I suppose," Chris saw his gun behind some crates and crawled over to get it. "Let's get cleaned up a bit, then we'll figure somethin' out."
Chris winced as he took off his jacket and removed his shirt. He tore the shirt into pieces and used it, along with his canteen of water, to clean up Vin's head wound and get a better look at the cut. It wasn't dangerously deep, so Chris pressed hard on the cloth for a few minutes and then wrapped a make-shift bandage around the tracker's head.
Once his head stopped spinning quite so badly, Vin said, "sit down Larabee and give me a piece of that shirt." Vin used another wet piece of cloth to clean up Chris' face as best as he could. "Don't wanna scare the good folks of San Francisco more than we have to."
Larabee pulled himself unsteadily to his feet and put his jacket on over his shirtless chest. He then reached down and lifted Vin to his feet. "Think you can walk back to Maude's?" Chris asked. He was positive Tanner had a concussion; a person's head couldn't smack that hard into a brick wall and not suffer some damage.
"Yeah, I kin make it, "Vin answered, "so long as we go slow."