Reed cast a glance over his shoulder when Sheriff Doody's conversation began to wane and was concerned to see Sgt. Stauch pulling two of his own crewmen in tow. He caught the sergeant's
attention, who simply rolled his eyes. Reed turned back in time to avoid tripping over the steps that led into the local tavern. The Sheriff held the strange swinging doors open to allow Reed's people to enter,
then made his way directly to a table near the back of the establishment, motioning for them to follow.
They all took seats around the large table, Stauch directing his two wards to sit placing them two seats apart. Stauch and Schrader sat between them. The rest gathered around haphazardly, studiously viewing the
virtually empty, but otherwise exotic interior of the ancient meeting place. Doody turned and waved his hand at a man behind a long, oaken counter, making a circling motion with a pointed finger. The man behind
the counter nodded, which seemed to satisfy the sheriff.
"So", the leather faced lawman said, leaning back in his stiff wooden chair, "y'all got some transportation problems, eh?"
"Yes", Reed replied hesitantly, trying his hand at replicating the local accent, "we all lost or horses when the 'injuns' attacked us."
Doody nodded and chuckled. "Yain't gonna be doing much chasin' without em', so's I'll tell ya' what I'll do."
Reed leaned forward to hear the sheriff's proposal, just as the man from behind the bar stepped over with a tray containing nine mugs of amber liquid.
"See", the sheriff continued, once the barkeep left, "we got a little problem here in Dead Gulch. They's a good number of hoodlums 'round here, and they been bandin' tagether, as of late."
"So how does that relate to our current position", Reed inquired, his suspicions rising.
"Well, I was just thinkin", Doody went on, "that you all might be opened to a deal."He looked around the table with a sly grin. "I figger since we got all you lawmen in town, we ought ta'
be able to take care of a little business."
Reed regarded the the sheriff skeptically. "So you want us to deal with your town ruffians in exchange for horses"; he stated evenly.
The sheriff nodded. "Yep", he confirmed, "guns fer horses." When he noted the concern on the faces around the table he added, "that's the way things is done 'round these parts."
VanTedly cleared his voice. "Uh Sheriff", he said quietly, "where's the bathroom?"
Doody looked at him for a moment. "Well the bath house is down the street, son."
"No", VanTedly reiterated, rocking in his chair and gritting his teeth, "I need to go to the bathroom."
Doody looked him up and down, curiously. "I don't fallah ya, son. What the hell's yer problem?"
"I have to...uh...well, you know. Go tee-tee."
The sheriff rocked back in his chair and guffawed. "Is that all, son?!" He pointed to the back of the establishment. "Just go on out in the back and let 'er go."
"Outside", VanTedly asked incredulously, "but what if someone sees me?"
Schrader placed a hand on the ensign's shoulder. "I'll go with ya', brother", he suggested, "and keep an eye out for ya'."
Somewhat relieved, VanTedly agreed and went out back with the pilot. Reed turned again to the Doody.
"I don't think we can be of much help to you, sheriff. We already have a mission, and it's quite urgent."
Doody nodded soberly. "I understand, but ya' can't blame a guy fer tryin'."
He picked up his mug and hefted it toward the commander. Reed did likewise as he recognized the ancient practice of "toasting".
"Here's to yer mishun then, Marshal", the sheriff said taking a long drink.
Reed lifted the drink to his lips, but before he could take a drink, several large pops sounded at the back of the saloon. The first volley was followed by another. Reed looked curiously to the sheriff,
who he noted was drawing his gun and heading toward the noise. He and his crewmen scrambled to their feet and followed.
As they exited through the back door, they saw several men on horses firing their ancient weapons toward a pile of cut wood before wheeling mounts around and galloping away. Three unencumbered horses pranced
nervously nearby, their riders bleeding on the ground beside them. Reed ran to the men, hoping none of them were Schrader or VanTedly. Standing over them, he saw strangers' faces and cast about for
his two crewmen. Movement from behind the wood pile caught his attention, and he saw VanTedly helping Schrader maneuver the wooden berm. Schrader was bleeding.
