Book 3, Chapter 1

David Morgan was a young man, just twenty-five years old. He had worked for the Golden Palace saloon in San Francisco for the last four years. His mother had died of the fever that had swept through the town, ravaging the inhabitants and decimating the population. Since his father had left when he was but two years old, he'd had no other recourse than to go to work. David was extremely unhappy with his job. Last night was the last straw. No more would he be the butt of the jokes of the drunks that patronized the establishment.

Biff Tannen had been drunk. He'd tipped over his beer for the third time that evening and Max Duggan, the bartender, decided that that was enough. Max told Tannen that he was cut off, no more beer. Biff didn't take kindly to that, so he pulled out his .44 caliber pistol and shot Max dead. Sadie and the girls screamed and ran for the exits. The rest of the men in the bar cowered behind their tables and chairs, not daring to even look at the man.

David was at the end of the bar. He reached under and grabbed onto the cudgel that Max had kept. Biff was waiving his gun at the men in the room, and wasn't paying attention as David crept up behind him. David gave a mighty swing and hit Biff in the temple as he was turning his head. Tannen dropped to the floor, never to move again.

David had liked Max. Max had always treated David with respect. He had allowed David room to work at his own pace, and was seldom critical of the job David did. Max really didn't deserve to die the way he had. However, David now had to put all that behind him, for he had taken the law into his own hands. He had killed a man, a man with friends in high places. While the crowd in the bar stood gaping, David ran out the back to the shed where he lived. He packed up his meager belongings and ran to the livery stable at the edge of town.

David arrived out of breath at the stables. He was carrying a pair of old saddlebags that he had found in the trash. He had filled them with his possessions. It wasn't much but it was his. He had taken the time to strap on his old Colt .44. It had been his father's. As friends growing up had taught him, he kept it clean. He knew that a gun that was not clean would fail him. David realized that at a time like this he needed a weapon that would work correctly. His father had done a good job with him. From his stash of coins he purchased a bay mare, with a saddle and bridle and a bedroll for twenty dollars in gold. He had fished the coins out of the cracks under the bar, while he'd been cleaning the floor.

David headed south out of town, staying on the road so that his horse's hoof prints could be found. About three miles out of town he came to the river. It was there that he turned east, riding his horse in the shallows until he came to the hard-packed plain about four miles east of town. David exited the stream on the south side, ground-tied his horse and went back to look for signs of his exit. From there he picked up a branch off of the ground and swept clear the remaining evidence of his exit from the stream. He then remounted and headed east again, towards the mountains.

This definitely was not what David had envisioned for his life. Still, he was happy to get out of the city. He had lived with his mother on the farm until she died and he was much happier outside the confines of the city. When he had traveled as far as he thought he needed to, David found a safe place to camp for the night. It was in a small copse of trees about a hundred yards off the trail he was following. The stream had meandered back that way so he first watered his horse and hobbled her for the night. He spread out his blanket and used his saddle for a pillow and fell into a troubled sleep.

David slept restlessly, waking several times during the night, something nagging at him just beyond his consciousness. He hadn't built a campfire and he could hear the rustling movement of the creatures of the night. He woke for the last time shortly before dawn. The gray skies gave enough light for him to get started. He had some pemmican in his saddle bag and he ate that for breakfast. He mounted up and rode off again.

It was shortly before noon when it happened. He had stopped Betsy (that's what he named his horse) for a rest when a shot rang out. Fortunately for David he had just leaned over to adjust his stirrup, and it whizzed by his head. David continued to roll out of the saddle as if he had been hit, but he drew his .44 and held it close to his body. He had fallen so that he was facing the direction of the shot and he closed his eyes so that they were just narrow slits. He saw the glint of the sun on the shiny metal of the rifle as the man approached. When the bushwhacker was in range David retaliated.

David had practiced with his gun incessantly day after day and was an excellent shot. He had the opportunity to prove that today when he put two shots into the body mass of the would-be killer. Carefully David got up, making sure no one else was there. Sure enough the lone gunmen had thought to kill David and take his horse. He would rob no one else after this. Since the man had shot at David first, he felt justified in taking the possessions of the dead man.

David was in awe of the new rifle he now possessed. It was a brand-new Winchester 73 in .44/40 caliber. There was a nearly new holster strapped to the man's waist. In the holster was a pearl handled Colt Single Action Army revolver, also chambered for the .44/40 cartridge. Attached to the gun belt was a knife sheath that contained a twelve inch Bowie knife.

David found six twenty dollar gold pieces in the man's pockets. He also discovered that the man's boots and hat fit him, so he took those also, along with the eight inch stiletto sheathed in the left boot. Next David went over to the trees where the man had hidden and found the man's horse. He found no brand on the animal so he decided to keep him. The tall black gelding would be a better ride for David. The tack was new and the pieces matched. David searched the saddlebags. In one side he found it held a clean change of clothing and several boxes of cartridges for the weapons. What really blew him away was what he found on the other side. It was full of bank notes and gold coins. David was a wealthy man.

He mounted the horse, and rode back to where he had left Betsy. He replaced Betsy's bridle with a halter and lead rope. David continued riding east until he came to the next town called Victorville. He tied the horses to the hitching post and entered the café. He ordered the luncheon special which consisted of bread in a large bowl of lukewarm stew. When he saw the water in the glass he ordered a sarsaparilla. He figured it would be safer than drinking that water.

It may have only been lukewarm stew but it was filling and David gladly paid the ten cents the waiter asked for the meal. He even left a nickel tip for the service. David left the café, mounted his new horse (which he decided to call Midnight), and continued his journey. The ride in the afternoon was uneventful and right around five o'clock he came upon a relatively large town. It had a bank, a restaurant, a hotel, a stable, and three saloons. He put Betsy and Midnight up at the stable for ten cents each. That included a bag of grain and all the hay they would want. The stable men assured David that the horses would be treated right, and that they would be safe.

David walked up the street to the hotel and went inside. He walked up to the busy attendant and waited to be recognized.

"Hello," he said. "I'd like to have a room for the night. I'd like something facing the street, please."

"Yes," the man said "I have just what you want. That will be one dollar a night. It's located at the top of the stairs."

"That'll be fine," David replied. "Is there a general store in town where I can shop some?"

"Why, there sure is, stranger" the man behind the counter said. "It's just down the street a bit, there on the left. You just tell them that I sent you down. For every person that I refer to them, they give me two bits. My name's Swift, Thomas Swift. But most people around here just call me Tom."

"I'll be sure to mention you to the shopkeeper. Thanks a lot. I'll just take my key and lock my stuff up in my room," David told Tom. "Then I guess I'll go shop and get something to eat."

With that David went up the stairs and used the key in the door to his room. He felt the lock clicked smartly and felt confident that he would be secure in his room tonight. Once inside he locked the door so he could check more thoroughly the highwayman's saddlebags that he brought with him.

The clothing in the bag was brand-new. Better still it was his size. Now that he had that out of the way he turned to the other side of the saddlebags. Slowly and carefully he counted out the money. When he was done he found he had $962.57. He put $12.57 in his pocket and found places around the room to hide the rest of his money, just in case. This gave David $132.57 total in his pockets including the six double eagles. He felt that was more than what he would need to make his purchases at the general store.

David made his way over to the store. He found a well-stocked establishment and was pleased he was able to find everything he was looking for in one place. By the time he was done purchasing all the supplies he thought he might need including food for the trail his bill came to $42.86, and that included a cleaning kit for the new rifle and extra ammunition. David asked if there was a gunsmith in town and was directed to the edge of town where the gunsmith shop stood.

David strolled into the shop and the shopkeeper rose from his bench to greet him. David extended his hand in greeting and felt the grip that belied the man's age.

"Hello," he began. "My name is David Morgan. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"Hello yourself. My name is Elijah Browning. I come from a long line of gunsmiths. What can I do for you today?"

"Mr. Browning, I'd like you to take a look at my guns and tell me if they're good or if they're not so that I can decide whether to keep them," David responded.

"All right. There will be no charge for that. Let me see what you have."

David placed the .44 on the counter and removed the Colt that he had gotten today from the holster and placed it on the counter also. Browning picked up the older .44 first. For the first time David noticed that Mr. Browning had a magnifying lens attached on a swivel to his glasses. Browning pulled it down as he inspected the weapon. He hummed a little to himself as he went over the weapon thoroughly.

Browning put the gun down and picked up the new Colt SAA. He examined this gun as closely as he had the other. When he was finished he looked up with a smile.

"My boy," he began "I can see you take good care of your guns. While the .44 is an older gun it has been kept meticulously clean and should provide you with many more years of service. The Colt Frontier Six Shooter (stamped on the barrel) looks to be brand-new and I doubt very many rounds have been fired through it. Are you looking to sell either of these fine weapons?" Browning asked.

"No," David replied. "I just wanted to check and see if they were good enough to keep."

"Oh, yes, they are both definitely keepers," Mr. Browning said. "If you keep them in this condition, I will buy the older .44 caliber for $18, Colt Frontier for $26 any time within the next two years."

David smiled and thanked Mr. Browning for his opinion. He replaced the Frontier Six Shooter in his holster and picked up his old .44 off the counter. He was about to leave when Browning stopped him.

"You know, young man," Browning began, "I can trim the trigger pull on both of them for a dollar, too."

"How long will that take?" he asked.

"I can have them ready for you by ten o'clock tomorrow morning" Browning replied.

"That will be great. Let's do it," David said.

He shook hands with Mr. Browning and left his weapons with Browning to be converted and adjusted. David left the shop and headed to the restaurant, which was attached to the hotel. He figured it must be owned by the same people, so David went inside and found himself table.

He just seated himself and only had a short chance to look around. He noticed that a young girl with blonde hair and a blue gingham dress that was straining to hold in her obvious feminine endowments was serving as a waitress for the restaurant. At that moment she was delivering food to a table that had two unsavory looking characters that it.

David's blood began to boil as he noticed that the men were being extremely rude to the girl. One man had grabbed her hands while the other grabbed her by the waist. She struggled to get away but they were too strong for her. David's mother had taught him to respect the female, so he got up and walked over to the table.

"Gentlemen," he started, " ... and I do use that term loosely ... I think your mother forgot to teach you manners or else you forgot what she taught you. I think it would be a good thing if you let the young lady go!"

"Yeah" the man on the left exclaimed. "Who's going to make me?"

"You don't think you're man enough to do it do you?" The other man joined in.

Both men had risen from the table and the man on the left had released the girl's arms. She was still struggling with the other man, which kept him busy while David dealt with the first. The man had just stepped forward and placed his weight on his right leg when David's foot whipped out catching the man just below his knee. The man howled in pain and fell to the floor. His companion, seeing this action, released the girl and started to draw his gun. David was one step ahead of him having already pulled the other man's gun from the holster. Since the girl was in the clear David fired the gun at the man's wrist while his gun was still in the holster. The slug ripped through the man's hand and shattered the handgrip of his gun. He howled in agony holding his ruined hand with the other.

Not more than a minute later the door to the restaurant crashed open and a tall man entered. David could see the star on his vest. The marshal was here and ready to take charge.

"All right" he said "somebody tell me what's going on here."

The young girl proceeded to tell the marshal what had occurred while David held the "borrowed" gun on the two miscreants. The marshal nodded as he listened, asking a question or two. She related the story to him. He didn't feel he needed to ask anybody any other questions. He just reached down with his big hands and lifted the two by the scruff of their necks. By this time his deputies had arrived and he passed them over to the deputies to be hauled off to jail. He told one of the deputies to get the doctor to see to these boys after they were locked up.

"Well, son," he began. "Thank you for protecting young Molly. However, I would prefer it if you would check with me before you shoot somebody. That's usually my job. I will forgive you this time, since Molly is my daughter. Eat up because your dinner is on me, tonight."

"You don't have to do that, sir," David responded. "I just did what any gentleman would do."

"The thing is young man, there aren't very many gentlemen living in this town. So please, be my guest and let me pay for your dinner. It's the least I can do for you for sparing my daughter's honor."

So David ordered the house special which happened to be beef steak, potatoes, green beans, gravy, and biscuits. Molly served him his meal and he was sure that something was amiss. His plate was almost overflowing with food. This was by far the biggest steak he had ever seen. And the odors delighted his senses.

Fortunately David was quite hungry because he hadn't had much to eat the last couple of weeks and then on the trail he had even less. Still, he found it difficult to completely clear his plate. Molly seemed to hover near him while he was eating. Her smile was radiant. She had the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen. From what he could tell there was a very nice body underneath that blue gingham dress, too. However, since she was the Marshal's daughter, he felt he should leave well enough alone. To make a safe exit he waited until she was in the kitchen before leaving his table. He did leave a four bit tip for Molly.

Safely away, he went to his room and locked himself in for the night. He placed his purchases from the general store in the corner and took the chair from the room and put it underneath the doorknob as an extra precaution. He took off his gun belt hooking it on the side of the bed, removed his boots, and lay down to sleep. The next thing he knew the sun was creeping in through the windows.

David was well rested and ready to go. He repacked his saddlebags, retrieved the hidden money, gathered up his packages, and left his room. He turned his key in to the desk clerk and thanked him for a good night's rest. He made his way down to the stable and asked the stable men if he could leave his packages with his horses and tack. The stable men assured him that it would be safe and so that's exactly what he did. He knew he had some time before Mr. Browning would be finished, so he just strolled around town.

He sat on the bench outside the general store watching the comings and goings of the people. Across the street from him was the bank and he watched the people go in and out. He leaned back and pulled his hat down over his eyes to rest a bit. However he did not close them but continued to survey the street scene in front of him. A frown came over his face as he noticed four men in dusters ride slowly down the street towards the bank. Just then a young boy came walking by.

"Say there, kid." David said. "Can you run fast?"

"I sure kin," he replied. "An don't call me kid. My name's Jimmy, Jimmy Ryan. I'm the fastest thing on two feet around here. Now then, what can I do fer you?"

"Well son, I mean Jimmy, I would like you to run to the Marshal's office and informed him that four men in dusters just rode up to the bank and I think he might want to get down here in a hurry. And Jimmy, if he gets here in the next two minutes I'll pay you a dollar."

Jimmy took off like a bat out of hell and David just leaned back against the wall again. His hat was tipped so no one could see his eyes but he watched the bank suspiciously. It was then he realized he was weaponless. His Winchester was with his horses and his handguns were in Mr. Browning's shop. He ducked into the store and went up to the counter.

"Would you happen to have any weapons?" he asked the shopkeepers wife.

"Only thing we have is that Greener," she pointed to the ten gauge shotgun on the wall. "Why?"

"Well, ma'am," he said. "I do believe the bank's going to be robbed, and I don't think the Marshal will get here in time."

"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed. "Do you think it will help?"

David simply nodded as she took the Greener down from the wall. She handed it to him along with a box of ten gauge shells. He loaded the two barrels of the gun and stuffed extra shells into his pockets. He eased his way out of the door and sat on the bench nearest a barrel, which he planned to use as cover if needed. He looked anxiously down the street towards the Marshal's office and he saw the Marshal and one of his deputies advancing towards the bank cautiously. He let his arm hanging down over the side of the bench closest to the Marshal and he waved it furiously in hopes of catching the Marshal's attention. The Marshal pulled up short and his deputy ran into him. But he acknowledged that he had seen David's signal. Keeping under cover, the Marshal and the deputy moved closer to the bank. They had just gotten into position when the bank door burst open and the bandits slowly backed out of the door.

Just as the bandits reached their horses the Marshal called out for them to halt. The street erupted in gunfire. In the first minute of the conflict two of the bandits died, as did the deputy. One of the robbers kept the Marshal pinned down while the other climbed on his horse. They both were firing at the Marshal and the one on the horse got a new shooting angle and he winged the Marshal in the shoulder. The other bandit sprinted for his horse. He had just gotten his foot in the stirrup when the Greener in David's hand erupted. David had gotten close and the first shot tore through the man that was mounted nearly cutting him in half. David staggered with the recoil and the last man used that opportunity to sprint back into the bank.

The Marshal was bleeding from a shoulder wound but indicated to David that he would be all right. David shouted to the Marshal telling him he would be right back and he sprinted down the street to Browning's store. Mr. Browning had been watching and had David's guns and holsters ready when he got there. He told David to go do what he needed to do and come back later to pay for the work. David strapped on his Colt and then went to strap on the 44 conversion and discovered that it was in a new holster. The shoulder harness holster held the conversion under his left arm for quick and easy access. David crossed the street and ran back to the building beside the bank. Now the Marshal was on one side and David was on the other. David could see down the passageway beside the bank and noticed the door. It must've been the back door to the bank manager's office.

Every once in a while a shot would ring out and a bullet would whiz by but for the most part it seemed to be a waiting game. As David watched from his position he noticed movement in the alleyway. The "back" door to the bank slowly opened and he saw a man's hat, and then his head stick out. David aimed his gun and fired. Just as he pulled the trigger the head jerked back into the bank. David's shot missed. It looked like it was going to be a stalemate. However, just then the robber made a fatal mistake. At the door of the bank there appeared a young woman. It was apparent that the bank robber was going to try to use the woman as a human shield.

"All right now Marshal, you best hold your fire or you might just hit this pretty young thing. And it would be a real shame to waste such a good-looking woman that way."

"If you hurt her I swear you won't live to see sundown." the Marshal shouted back. "You won't get away, we'll track you down."

It seemed to David that the bandit did not know he was hidden there because the bandit kept the woman between himself and the Marshal. As the man moved so did David until he was about 20 feet away. Taking his time David got himself ready. And then he shouted.

"Hey, Mister, hold it right there!"

The man spun around, and as he did so, the woman broke free. David saw that she was clear and he opened up firing with both guns. In less than five seconds six bullets slammed into the bank robber's chest. He managed to get off one shot. It was just a matter of bad luck that the bullet creased David's right leg. The woman's tears of joy turned to sorrow as she saw David fall to the ground. She rushed to him and knelt beside him. She pulled his head onto her lap and caressed his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. He tried to look up to see her face but her ample bosom blocked his view. The woman continued to fuss over him as the Marshal approached. The bleeding to his shoulder wound had stopped and he stepped up to where David lay.