Chapter 1

Of course, I don't remember any of the details, but this is what I was told had happened:

I'm Jack Hazard, an' I'm a bounty hunter. I had just spotted Arlo Jenkins at the bar, an' he was worth $200. That was too much money ta let slip by, so I waltzed up behind him an' stuck my gun muzzle in his ribs on his right side. My S&W .44-40 was cocked as I said, "Arlo Jenkins, ya are under arrest. Come with me an' nobody will git hurt."

I had hardly got that out of my mouth when Jenkins twisted away from me an' a friend of his cracked a filled beer bottle on the back of my head. Both Jenkins an' his friend took off, leavin' me lyin' on the saloon floor. I was knocked completely out an' didn't know what was goin' on. Well, I have some friends, too, an' they took care of me. Whenever I'm in town, I stay at the Widow Jones' boardin' house. Anyway, they stopped the bleedin' from my scalp an' hauled me ta my room at the boardin' house on a door they used as a stretcher.

I was right friendly with Mrs. Jones, too, soz she looked after me while I was unconscious. The best part of her lookin' after me was that she didn't let the local doctor touch me! I knew that I wouldn't be here ifen he'd got his paws on me in my delicate condition. Well, I was out fer two days afore I got my senses back, but I had the strongest notion that people was shoutin' inside my head fer about an hour afore I woke up.

The most strikin' thin' was that I could recognize the people from their voices. It was just like they was standin' right beside me an' talkin', but there wasn't nobody in the room but me. I listened ta those voices fer a while, an' let me tell y'all, they was sayin' some might funny an' some mighty foolish thin's, but it was like I was the only one what could hear them.

After a while, Mrs. Jones said, "I guess I better check on Jack again. I sure hope he wakes up pretty soon. Ifen he don't, he's gonna die of thirst!"

Yeah, now that she mentioned it, I did notice that I was damned thirsty, an' I would easily settle fer a glass of water, though I really preferred coffee or beer. I woke up, I guess, when Mrs. Jones came through the door. She looked at me an' said, "Land a Goshen, Jack! I sure am glad ta see ya with yer eyes open. I was afeared that ya was gonna die on us." Then she said, "Jack sure is a nice man, an' I'll bet that he would make a good bed partner, based on what I seen when I held him while he pissed." But that last bit was said without her ever movin' her mouth! What was that all about!?! I was so startled that I didn't say nothin' 'bout that last sentence. Mrs. Jones, Alice, was always so nice ta me that I didn't want ta embarrass her, or nothin'.

"Jack, I'll bet ya are so thirsty that ya would drink most anythin! I'll be right back with a glass of water for ya. Now, don't ya try ta git up while I'm gone, 'cause ya've had quite a crack on the head."

OK, that explained the bandage an' the monster headache I've got, but it don't explain them voices. Or does it? Oh, well, maybe I kin git the whole story when Mrs. Jones gits back. Hey! What the hell? I'm naked under this here sheet! Did Mrs. Jones do that!?!

About that time, I heard Mrs. Jones' voice in my head again. "Dammit, I'm beginnin' ta hate these blasted stairs. Ifen I'd a knowed what was gonna happen, I'd of put Jake in one of the rooms downstairs. Heh, heh. That would of given the town gossipers somethin' ta talk about. My bedroom is the only one on the ground floor. Well, I sure could go fer Jake ifen he would just look at me that way."

Mrs. Jones came through the door with a glass of water still cool from the well. I sure did appreciate that there kindness, an' I told her so. "Jake Hazard, there ain't no need fer ya ta be carryin' on like I done ya a great favor. I just brung ya some of the same water what all the rest of us drink."

Well, I didn't think no more about it, except that I did remember wishin' that the water she brought would be nice an' cool. I was a lot more interested in what she could tell me about how I got here in bed with a bandage an' a headache. "Mrs. Jones, would ya be so kind as ta tell me what happened ta me? I don't remember nothin' after I stuck my gun muzzle in Arlo Jenkins' ribs."

"Jake, I done asked ya afore ta stop callin' me 'Mrs. Jones.' Ya know good an' well that my name is Alice, an' I want ya ta call me by that name."

"OK, OK, Alice. I'll try ta remember. Now, answer my question, ifen ya please."

"Jake, all I know fer sure is what Otis Brown told me when they brung ya here after the incident. The story I heard was that ya braced Arlo Jenkins at the bar without bein' careful enough 'bout yer back. Harley Smith walked in just as ya stuck yer gun in Jenkins' ribs. He was behind ya, an' he grabbed up a beer bottle what was on the bar. He looked like he swung that bottle as hard as he could ta hit ya on the head with it. I guess ya was lucky that ya had yer hat on, though I kin't see how that could have made that much difference.

"Anyway, yer gun went off an' probably put a big powder burn on Jenkins' side, but he had twisted far enough that the bullet missed him. Whatever the case, he an' Smith ran out, leavin' ya lyin' in a pool of blood. Ya know how head wounds bleed like there's no tomorrow, an' yer head was fillin' the bill. Otis slapped a reasonably clean rag he got from the bartender on yer head an' held it 'til the blood clotted. When that finally happened, four men brought ya ta me ta look after.

"We got ya ta this room an' the men left, all but Otis. He told me what I just told ya while we was gittin' yer clothes off. He held yer hips up a bit while I pulled yer pants off by the legs. Actually, the only tough part was gitin' yer boots off. How in the world do ya git them thin's on in the mornin'. I swear, ya must grease yer socks!" Her laugh at this statement almost covered her words in my head, "With a cock that big, how does he ever button his pants?"

My God! I had no idea decent women had thoughts like that there one!

Well, I had an interestin' three more weeks of recovery time, some of it in the bed, but most of the later time sittin' in Alice's parlor gittin' ta know her a whole lot better than I ever had afore. I've come ta think that gittin' bopped in the head kin sometimes be a good thin'.

I've had ta practice walkin' an' shootin' all over again. It amazed me how a blow ta the head kin mess up yer muscle coordination. It was nearly two months afore I was confident of my ability ta draw an' shoot as well as I needed ta. One change I did make was ta go from a regular draw ta a crossdraw. I ain't sure just what it was, but it was easier ta learn the crossdraw from scratch than it was ta relearn the regular draw. While I was about it, I added a gun fer my left hand, an' it seemed like I learned ta shoot with my left hand a hell of a lot quicker an' easier than I would have before my bang on the head. Another side advantage of the crossdraw was that I could safely carry six bullets in each gun instead of the customary five that most people used.

I hadn't given a whole lot of thought ta what my "hearin' voices" might do ta me, but I got a good lessen in that about three months after I was hit in the head. I was walkin' down the street mindin' my own business when I heard in my head a voice sayin', "There he is. This time I'll get rid of Jack Hazard fer good!"

Well, that got my attention real quick! I recognized the voice of Arlo Jenkins, an' I could tell exactly where he was: up on the roof of the hardware store across the street. Somehow, I could feel him brin' the aim of his Henry rifle toward me, an' I could feel him tightenin' his trigger finger. Shit, there wasn't no time ta waste! I dove behind a full waterin' trough just as I heard his gun go off.