Chapter 2

Phillips woke up with a morning piss hard-on, just as he had done for the last who knows how long. Since he was 11? Maybe even before that. All he knew for sure was that he wasn't in Kansas anymore, Toto. Everything was just peachy until he woke up yesterday. He had lost his job a few weeks back, had been reading books and stories on the internet, and even played at being a rancher in Central Texas until this happened. He found out yesterday that he had been somehow transported back in time to the year 1873. He was in the town of Sneedville, Tennessee. He had already met and killed 8 men and won the hearts of a town, especially three lovely residents of that town. He decided it wasn't so bad after all after thinking about it for a while. He had plenty of money and three women to choose from.

He finished his business; he actually just peed out the hayloft door, and dressed. He climbed down from the loft and went looking for Mr. Potter. He decided to go over to the café for breakfast since he wasn't around yet. He entered the café and the owner approached him.

"My name is Michael Davis, Mr. Phillips," he said, shaking Waite's hand. "I own this establishment. As a thank you for your service to us, you eat here free as long as you're in town. Any one or more of your lady friends you bring will receive the same courtesy. I am personally in your debt for preventing a slaughter here last night. Your quick action saved this town from a lot of sorrow, so enjoy your meal."

He slapped Waite on the back and sauntered out the door. It made no difference to Waite; he just sat at the table he used last night and ordered a breakfast steak, hotcakes, eggs, grits, biscuits, and gravy. They even had some kind of juice, so he got that too. It turned out to be apple cider and it was delicious. It hadn't taken long for his food to arrive. He likes his steak medium rare, so the cooking time was shorter. He had a leisurely breakfast and watched the scene outside the window. He was surprised that the window was fixed. Then he remembered there was a lumberyard in town and they probably already had a supply of glass and a glazer, just in case. He had noticed the size of the window was the same size as the one at the Rusty Nail. That explained the availability of replacement glass. They kept it handy in case of bar fights.

He noticed the teller and another man enter the bank as he sat enjoying the juice. The clerk soon placed the 'open' sign in the window. A message from the President of the bank had been sent last night asking Waite to go see him, so Waite finished up, tipped the waiter, and sauntered across the street. He followed another gentleman into the bank. The man went into an office and Waite stepped up to the teller's cage.

"Oh," the clerk said, as he looked up from his ledger, "It's you. You're the one who saved the day yesterday, aren't you? I saw you for a moment when you helped Miss Lisa Marie from the street. That sure was some fine shooting you did. You saved her life! You saved my life, for that matter. Thank you, Sir! Thank you."

"I got a note last night that the owner or President of the bank wanted to see me today, so here I am. Can you tell him I'm here?" Waite explained.

Why, yes I can." he replied, "I will get him for you this very minute. You just wait right here. I'm sure he will want to know you're here, even if Mayor Shilling is in there with him. I won't be but a moment. Please, have a seat and I will return momentarily."

He took the proffered seat and waited as the small mousy man knocked lightly first, then entered the office at the back of the bank. The door burst open a few seconds later, and a rotund gentleman, and the other man he'd seen earlier, exited the room with haste. They came in front of Waite and stopped. The obese gentleman spoke. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Phillips. I'm James Milton, President of this bank. So good of you to grace our establishment with your presence. Won't you come back to my office for a chat? Oh, and by the way, this gentleman is Mr. Dave Shilling, the Mayor of our fair city." Waite shook hands with the banker and the politician as they went back to the banker's office. Mr. Milton continued once in the office and seated," I sent a wire to the head office of the bank conglomerate right after you subdued those criminals. I received the authorization from the owners this morning. I want to tell you that the bank is willing to pay you $1,000 for saving the bank from the robbers. Please say you'll accept this token of our appreciation."

Hell yes, he thought. This was just what he needed. Talk about luck. The plan he formulated in his mind before dropping off to sleep last night was going just right. He'd get the money and then initiate phase two of the operation. "Yes, I believe I will take the reward," he said, "I'm sure I'll be able to find some use for it."

Mr. Milton extended a bag and his handshake followed. Mayor Shilling also extended his hand. He congratulated Waite for his cleaning up the town for him. He assured Waite that the town would have a place for him and his family if he ever wanted to settle down. Waite just said "We'll see." He then excused himself. He removed 10 of the gold pieces from the bag as he was leaving. He shoved them into his pocket. He was on a mission now. He had to get to the livery stable. He arrived at about the same time that Mr. Potter arrived. He confronted the older man.

"I noticed there is a brand new Conestoga in the alleyway, Mr. Potter. I'll need a wagon since I'm planning on going to Texas. How much for the wagon and the Missouri mules you got out back?"

"Well, Sonny, the wagon's new and the mules are prime critters. I gotta have top dollar for them. It'll cost you 1,000 dollars for the lot."

"It looks like it's been here awhile. I heard you had a commission for it and the buyer backed out. Best I can do right now is $600." Waite countered.

"I'm gonna lose money on this deal, but I'll let you have it for $900."

"I might be able to scrape together $700 for it. But that's about my limit. I don't know how I'll get that kind of money." he said.

"Nope, gotta have 900. It's a steal at that." Potter replied.

Waite didn't say anything. He just turned around and silently started to walk away. He got about five steps when Potter spoke.

"Alright, I'm a fool, but I'll meet you halfway. I'll sell it and the mules for 800 dollars."

"Done," Waite said, shaking Mr. Potter's hand. "If you'll give me a receipt, I have $800 in gold right here." Waite was the proud owner of a gosh darned, honest to goodness, Prairie Schooner 10 minutes later. The Conestoga wagon was THE wagon to have crossing the wide prairies of America's Heartland. The box was 18 feet long, 4 foot wide, and 11 feet tall. It had a white canvas cover in case of rain and could carry 8 tons of stuff. He wasn't planning on anywhere near that amount, but it would provide lots of room for him and whoever he could get to go. He had just the idea of who to ask.

"There is one other matter, Mr. Potter. There were eight horses brought in last night by the Sheriff or one of his Deputies. Where are they? They belong to me now." he said.

"They're in the back barn. They still got the tack on them since no one was here to do the work. Don't fret none, it won't hurt em. You go take a look."

Waite headed out to the back barn to inspect his haul. He stripped the saddles off all the horses, first off. Then he got the stiff bristled brush out and gave them all a good brushing. He was working on the third horse when a boy of about 12 wandered by. He called the boy over and asked if he'd like to earn a dollar. The boy was overjoyed at the chance of having some money. Waite told the boy he'd pay for him to brush down the horses. The boy agreed and now there were two sets of hands working. The boy was quicker than Waite, so the job was done before he knew it. Reaching into his pocket, Waite pulled out two one-dollar coins and tossed them to the boy who deftly caught his wages. He thanked Waite and ran off to the general store.

Waite got lead ropes on all the horses and led them out to the courtyard. He tied them up at the hitching post and proceeded to inspect the horses. The first two he moved out were old swayback nags on their last legs. The next two both had problems with their feet. One looked like he was ready to founder and the other had hoof rot. That eliminated 4. The next ones were harder to judge. He had been on the livestock judging team in HS and he knew what to look for. He finally decided on the one stallion and the bay mare. He took them all back in, but rearranged the order so that Ruth and the two horses were separate from the others. His next chore was to check the saddles out. The first one to catch his eye was a Mexican Vaquero saddle. He wondered how one of those got all the way here in eastern Tennessee. He immediately put that over by Ruth's saddle. The next one he found was a good western roping saddle. So two of the robbers must have been from west of the Mississippi. There was only one other good general purpose saddle, so he put that with his others and piled the rest on the bench at the back of the stable. There was one good Martingale setup with breast strap and matching bridle. The short strap told him it was what is referred to as a tie down. The silver work told him it too was of Mexican origin and he could assume that it went with the saddle. There was one other bridle that he felt was any good, so he took that too. The saddlebags were stacked together and they were the next to be inspected.

The first one contained some clothes that smelled bad. He tossed them in the rag pile. Under the clothes he found a box of .44 caliber rim-fire shells and a box of paper cartridges for a .36 caliber. He placed those aside. The other side had some more clothes. When he went to throw those away, he heard a jingling sound, like metal on metal. He checked the clothes and found a money pouch in one of the socks. There were 25 double eagles in the pouch. He put the coins back in the pouch and tossed the clothes out. He tossed the saddlebags on the pile with the other tack. The next bag must have gone with the Mexican set. It too had silver adornments on it. He opened it up and tossed out the old food and the loose crap. He looked for loot first, and sure enough, found over 100 pieces of the gold double eagles. (Editor's Note: A double eagle is a $20.00 gold coin. An Eagle is $10 and half Eagle is $5.00) He also picked up 2 boxes of shells for the Henry and another box of shells. He looked on the label and it simply said Long Colt. He heart started pumping a little faster. He hadn't gone through the bag yet, but there probably was a new Colt 45 in there. After going through all the saddlebags, he ended up with 452 double eagles, 97 eagles, 3 knives by Jim Bowie, a hideout pepperbox derringer, four Pattersons, a Walker, a Schofield, 2 Smiths, and a matched pair of new Colt 45 single action revolvers. They were the prettiest pair of weapons he'd ever seen. He also noted that the double rig they came is had the same silver accouterments as the saddle, martingale, and saddlebags.