Journal of a Wanderer

** The date of this entry has been hastily scratched out **

Canyon Country, May 20th, 1525 After Founding

After we rested through the middle of the day on the 18th, we headed south some more, into Canyon Country. Near as we could figure, that was the best place to turn east and try to find the road again, so the next morning we did that. The 19th was pretty uneventful, we made good time, didn't have any navigation issues and no carnivals popped suddenly into our path.

This morning, we met our first Nobles. Can't say I really cared much for the experience.

They came riding out of the rising sun in a gilded carriage, drawn by two chestnut geldings. Les caught sight of the dust cloud and the light glinting off the carriage as they made a bee-line straight for us, so we turned the wagon a bit to give Carter some cover and waited for them. Wasn't nowhere to run anyways. The wagon came in a fair clip like the driver was trying to kill those poor horses. He drew up to a screeching stop thirty feet from us, blowing a plume of dust and grit toward us. I rode around out of the dust so I could see the carriage again. Weird thing was, the horses weren't even sweating.

A man and a woman got out of the carriage, both decked out in the nicest silk clothes you ever saw. The man was wearing two weird pistols on his hip, looked like they was single shot. Who carries single shot pistols?? The lady popped open a parasol and stood there looking haughty while the man yelled at us, asking "Where were you? What happened yesterday?"

We all found this very confusing, I tried to answer, saying that yesterday we'd spent riding through canyon country, and nothing happened. Carter came over and started talking to them as well, they seemed to react better to him. They treated us like naughty children, but treated him more like a teacher's pet. Between me and Carter, we finally got to the bottom of what the man was asking for...Sorta. I broke out my journal and showed him the entries, dates and all and he looked me straight in the face and said "Your journal is wrong. Today is the 18th."

The hell you say?

Anyway, we started telling him about the circus and everything that happened there. When the Preacher mentioned a demon (referring to the hidden beast, I guess), the man lost interest and climbed back into his carriage, telling the lady to take care of us. I didn't think it was possible to get MORE talked down to. She gave us all "shiny pretties" for us to keep and not lose, and some of the nicest bottles of whisky I've ever seen. She climbed back into the carriage, closing her parasol and they started to ride off sedately. We looked at each other, wondering what the hell that was all about, and realized none of us had mentioned being lost in the scrub the day before the circus, so I trotted off after the Carriage and had the driver pull it back over. When we mentioned the events on the 17th, they both got real interested and started grilling us one by one, plying us with more bottles of whisky as rewards.

It took most of the day to satisfy them. We all ended up with 3 bottles of whisky and a "shiny".

I guess today's the 18th... Now I gotta fix my journal....

** The date of this entry has been hastily scratched out **

BeeBee's Travelling Show, May 18th, 1525 After Founding

We rode up to the show at sunset, and the Ringmaster was there waiting for us at the outskirts. The tents behind him were all quiet and we didn't see or hear any other people. BeeBee started right in on his spiel, inviting us to see wonders unheard of and amazing sights never before seen. Of course, we were curious about how a travelling show came to be set up out here in the middle of nowhere. BeeBee explained that his show moved slowly from place to place and set up every night to practice, putting on their full show even if no one was there to see it.

He started busking and selling the show hard core, but the "wonders" he was describing seemed a bit too targeted to us. He reeled in Ol' Jack with stories of the show's Strongman (Maybe Stronger Than You!). For Lester, he trotted out tales of a fast-draw expert that moved like lightning. About this time, my hackles started to stand up and I took a quiet ride around the outside of the circus, looking at the ground while I rolled a fresh cigarette.

No wagon tracks, anywhere.

When I made it back to the gang, Les and Jack were walking toward the tents and BeeBee was talking to Carter about the fact his Show had the greatest sharpshooter on earth. I leaned over the wagon and quietly told Carter the fact that there weren't no tracks leading into here and it hadn't rained in weeks.

His eyes widened slightly and he let out a sharp whistle to call back Les and Jack as they was about to step into the big tent. We had some words about how deserted the show looked and BeeBee explained it away saying that the show hadn't started yet. We were all feeling pretty creeped out about this point and decided it would be better to just ride on, so I slipped a dollar to BeeBee and thanked him for his presentation.

As we rode off, thinking to put as much space between us and the show as possible, the sun finally dropped below the horizon and we heard the show starting up behind us, people streaming out of the tents.

Preacher Jonas started rambling on about an old legend he'd heard about a travelling show. The name and location was always different, but it was said that lost souls, or people on the path to become lost, could be redeemed in the eyes of the Silent Lord, if they did the right things while there... or their situation could become worse. I remember thinking "Why can't legends be more clear?"

We stopped again, looking back at the show, now full of light and activity, and talked about whether we should go back. Carter eventually got fed up with all the wishy-washy talking and said we were going to go back or he'd be going back alone. So back we went. We pretty much decided that we needed to keep a couple of us at the wagon to guard to lockbox, since you can't trust carny folks. Carter, Doc and I took the first watch while the other three went in first, and the second round Carter and I went in. Doc didn't want anything to do with the place.

There was so much to see, I can't rightly lay it all down on paper. The things that I remember most clearly:

The Man Eating Chicken. If you ever stumble across BeeBee's show, you just gotta check this out.

The Fortune-Teller. She knew about the man I was looking for, saw his guns at the end of a long and dangerous road. I understand that she told every one of us that something bad was coming and we couldn't run fast enough to get away.

The World's Smallest Lady. She really was quite a little darlin', we had a great conversation and I slipped her an extra quarter for being so nice.

Exotic Dancing Girls. Not really quite exotic, but they sure could dance. The sad part is they all seemed so scared. Carter wanted to have a private conversation with one of them, so I fronted him the 5 dollars to cover it (he's still wiped from being in jail). I figured since he didn't have a chance to really visit with the ladies back in Copperbend...

The Caged Savage. This part of the show really lit a fire under me and also gave me another inkling of what was going on around here. They had a Nuahtl warrior chained up in a cage. I speak some of their language on account of having done a bit of trading with them in the past, so I asked him why he was here in a cage. All he said was "I can't escape yet." I can't abide a man locked up in a cage like that, so I asked the busker (not BeeBee) how much it would cost to set him free. The answer was seven thousand dollars. Ain't that funny, exactly the amount of money in the lockbox.

There was also an exhibit called "The Hidden Beast". For one dollar entry, you could go inside and if you could stay for five minutes, you'd win five hundred dollars. I understand we all took a shot at this bet. None of us managed to last more than a couple seconds. The less said about this, the better.

There was also some clowns wandering around, throwing knives back and forth as hard as they could. We all noticed they had their teeth all filed down to points...

Carter and I went back to the wagon. Preach was a bit frazzled from trying to take in the Hidden Beast exhibit, so Carter, Jack and Les went in again to catch the main show. They all came out pretty humbled. Seems the strongman, the marksman and the fast drawer was all that BeeBee made them out to be. They also seemed more than a bit shaken and said that the little yeller fellow was there, as a part of the show.

It was getting on toward dawn by that point, and the show was winding up. I asked someone to please send out BeeBee, as we had some business to discuss still. I wanted to negotiate for the freedom of the Nauhtl warrior. BeeBee again set the price at seven thousand dollars, and specifically pointed at the lockbox and said "THAT seven thousand."

We finally got a real inkling of what it was following us out into the plains from talking to BeeBee. He called it the "revenant" of Billy Wilson, coming to take vengence on us for doing him wrong. BeeBee explained that old Billy had multiple contracts on his soul because he really wasn't a nice man (I think we all knew that) and that giving HIM the lockbox would allow the Show to take control of one of Billy's contracts... or something like that. It wouldn't pull him off our trail, or redeem us or nothing like that, but it might slow him down some.

The boys and I all put our heads together. Carter wanted to free the dancing girl he had met with, I wanted to free the warrior. We all went back and forth on it, Preacher siding with me, Jack and Les wanting to free the girl. Carter settled it with a coin flip, picking the Native. BeeBee said he would send out Axehotl when we gave him the lockbox. We balked a bit at that, since you never pay a man for something he hasn't given you yet, so he drew a line at the entrance of the tent and said "You just put the lockbox on this side of the line and I'll send him out. Since there wasn't any other way to do it, that's what we did.

Axehotl came walking out a few minutes later, looking very grateful. As soon as he crossed the line, he started to fade out of existence. Preach said he was ascending, whatever that means.

All I could say at that point was it was time to get the hell out of there, so we started heading south again as the sun rose, determined to put at least a couple hours between us and the Travelling Show.

**The date of this entry has been hastily scratched out**

Unknown, May 17th, 1525 After Founding

We ran ourselves and the horses to exhaustion for 2 days straight before the feeling something was following us disappeared. Of course, by that point we had no idea where we were. Basic area knowledge and the fact that we hadn't crossed either water or railroad tracks meant we were still somewhere between the two.

I saddled up the Morgan stallion I picked up at the Boot Ranch (he was less worn out than the horse I'd been riding for the last 2 days) and rode out a ways from the wagon to find a hilltop for a better look around. We were surrounded by a whole lot of nothin', scrub and more nothin'. I could see a little smudge off to the west, but no telling what it was.

After riding back and telling the rest of the gang what I could see, we opted to head south. Shortly after we started moving, a line of clouds moved in, obscuring the whole sky above us. I felt we'd be ok without being able to see the sun, since I've got a pretty good sense of direction.

Boy howdy, was I wrong.

Every time I thought we were heading south, my head got all addle-pated and we ended up heading north, or east, or wherever. We kept correcting and getting pulled back off course. Hours and hours of riding around the scrub plains without purpose under the gunsteel grey sky.

We stopped around noon... I think...Hard to really be sure... We weren't really hungry, just frustrated at being so lost. As we stood around talking and trying to suss out what to do, we started seeing things and hearing voices. Carter and Jack saw a naked screaming woman covered in blood standing a bit aways in the scrub. Lester and I heard voices saying something like "You cannot escape" and "I'm coming for you!". I'll admit I freaked right the hell out hearing that from behind me, I skinned my gun the fastest I ever had and whipped around to find...nothing. Preacher had it the worst I think, he thought he was getting attacked by a huge rabid dog.

I don't know how long that went on. Eventually, we started riding again, heading south. The sun came out, low to the horizon, and we stopped having problems navigating. Shortly after, we stumbled upon, of all things, a Travelling Show set up in the middle of nowhere.

**The handwriting on this entry is very shaky and barely legible.**
On the trail west from Copper Bend, early morning May 15th, 1525 After founding.

Oh god, Oh Lord of Silence, what the hell have we gotten into?

The plan we had was pretty simple. I was supposed to go out first and get the wagon and horses ready, the others would follow one at a time and we'd all leave together. Easy peasy.

Yeah. I went out a couple hours after dark like I was supposed to. The whole time I felt like someone was watching me. The same shivery feeling I got when that weird pack of coyotes was staring at me at the Boot Ranch. I kept looking around while hooking up the team and putting tack on the horses, but nothing was in sight.

The rest of the team came out one by one, they all felt it too. With the full moon riding high above us, the whole town was lit with a silvery glow and dark shadows lurked everywhere. I thought I'd never been so scared in my life, then we started riding out of town. Coyotes were howling everywhere around us. As we passed the last building heading west, the horses started freaking out. We stopped to calm them, barely getting them under control when all the howling stopped. We could all feel something coming... coming from the Northeast, back toward Carson City. Something bad. The Preacher (Jonas... I finally asked his name, it's Jonas), suddenly pointed back across the town to where the east road came in. We could plainly see the little foreign feller walking away toward Carson City, just like he was before Billy shot him in the back. He looked a little taller, but I'll be damned if it wasn't him.

Right about then I remembered the one thing I forgot, in all that planning to kill Billy Wilson. I forgot to see the undertaker to have that poor bastard laid to rest. Now he's gonna haunt us for the rest of our days, Oh Lord, the rest of our damned days. I whipped the wagon team into a trot, aiming to put as much space between us and Copper bend as we could before exhaustion took us.

Copper Bend, May 14th, 1525 After Founding

Went to bed last night, still stewing over how to deal with Billy Wilson... woke up in the hour before dawn to Carter's voice yellin' "Fire! Fire!" and screaming whores and patrons stampeding down the stairs. I grabbed up my stuff, boots in one hand, bundle of clothes wrapped around my scattergun in the other and bolted out of the room into the midst of pandemonium. As I turned toward the stairs, I saw the Preacher come out of his room, and Les standing at the top of the stairs, back to the wall with his irons down at his hips, still in his longjohns. I started to stop and ask him what he's doing when I heard a woman screaming from down the stairs. Looking down, I saw one of the working girls had fallen or been pushed over at the bottom of the stairs and was being trampled. I pushed my way through the crowd on the stairs and started trying to help her up, while fire-panicked patrons kept trying to walk over both of us. Over my shoulder I saw the Preacher again, trying to control the flow of people around me, in his longjohns with a copy of the good book in his hand. Working together we got her up and started toward the door.

We was about halfway there when I heard more bodies falling down the stairs, heavy this time, followed by a pistol shot from the direction of the bar. I whipped my head around, taking in the scene. Carter was behind the bar, looking beat all to shit but with murder in his eye. At the bottom of the stairs, Les was laying on top of Billy Wilson, bleeding a little from where Carter's bullet clipped his ear as it shot into Billy's stomach. I pushed the lady into the Preacher's arms saying "Help her to safety, I got something needs doin'" as I turned, dropping my clothes and freeing up my scattergun while I started walking toward the pile of Lester and Billy Wilson. Carter kept popping off carefully aimed shots as Billy while I walked back across the room. I noticed Billy was starting to come back around from being stunned by the fall and yelled to Les, "Grab his guns and get the fuck out of the way so I can shoot him!" More bullets from Carter, and the Preacher (I don't know where he managed to hide that little Pepperbox, but he's a damn good shot for an old man). Lester didn't move fast enough, Billy (fully dressed, I might add), pulled his pistols in a blur and started firing away, pounding slugs into the bar as Carter ducked for cover. Les finally managed to scramble up, planting his boot in Billy's chest as he ducked out of the way, knocking his breath out again. Taking my chance, I shoved my barrel into Billy Wilson's stomach and pulled both triggers. The enormous roar echoed in my ears, peppering his stomach and the floor around him with shot. Sonofabitch was still moving, trying to shoot me as I scrambled to dive behind the bar with Carter. I heard his guns go off and felt one of his bullets burning right past my ear. His other shot caught the Preacher in the chest, breaking a rib. Two more shots from Carter finally finished that demon off. The moment he died, what sounded like every damn coyote in the area started off howling.

As soon as the firing stopped, I scrambled back to my clothes, pulling on my pants right quick and reloading my scattergun. I caught sight of three men coming out of Carter's room at the top of the stairs. They stared down at the scene below as I snapped the shotgun closed and clicked back the hammers again. "You the boys what beat up my good friend here?" I called up the stairs. All three of them beat a hasty retreat back into Carter's room. Jack finally popped out, still with a whore under each arm. He yelled "what the hell is all that racket down there?", noticed the body at the bottom of the stairs, grunted and went back in his room. Damn.

I was still pulling my boots on when the Sheriff and 5 deputies ambled into the saloon. Between me, Carter and the Preacher, we built a web of lies and half-truths in a bald-faced attempt to keep from getting thrown in jail. The Sheriff said he was familiar with Billy Wilson and his ties to the Railroad, and someone was gonna have to stand trial for what was done here, no matter how much the Sheriff thought Billy deserved what he got, but he was sure the Railroad would be fine with whoever fired the shot what killed him. Carter fessed up and handed over his gun to the Sheriff, only asking that someone go upstairs and get his belongings back from the ruffians that assaulted him, so some of the Deputies headed up to deal with that.

It cost us $200 to bail out Carter. We paid that out of his share of the money Billy Wilson was carrying. I went to the general store with the rifles and pistols we got from the Boot ranch, and worked out a trade for a Henry and ammo to replace the Carter's, which the Sheriff would not release until after the trial, which we have no intention of staying for. The wagon has about a month of provisions in it, more than enough to head west to warn the rest of the farmers on the list of what's coming for them. We're planning on leaving later tonight, after dark.

All day long we got to listen to the stories of Lefty Carter, "The Man to Killed Billy Wilson". I swear, you know I thought that shotgun to the gut might have had a hell of a lot to do with him dying, but it's all "Lefty Carter and his Band of Renegades"....

Copper Bend, May 13th, 1525 after founding

We pulled into Copper Bend just a bit after noon, I think. I don't rightly remember the time now, just what happened.

Seems the little foreign feller had decided he'd seen enough of this trail and was gonna hoof it on away while Billy Wilson wasn't looking. Billy wasn't havin' none of that. None of us can figure how he knew, but as soon as the little yeller feller hit the edge of town, Billy's guns snapped out and blew him away, one shot in the back and one in the head, sending him sprawling. We all stared as Billy just calmly walked into the Saloon we had just parked the wagon in front of and struck up a conversation with a man wearing the collar of a preacher.

I walked over to the little foreigner's body, checking to see if just maybe he was still alive. No such luck. Like they say, the only thing you can do in a situation like that is roll him over and check for loose change, so I plucked out the $120 dollars he'd earned so far and went into the saloon. Using the foreigner's money, I bought a bottle of whisky for each of the men riding with me (except for Billy) and paid for rooms for the night for them as well, before settling in a corner with my own bottle and some smokes.

Carter and Les wandered off to gamble as Jack grabbed a couple of whores and headed on up to his room. Gotta admire a man who knows what he wants... I kept scanning the saloon, watching Les loose money at one table while Carter raked it in at another, but my eyes kept coming back to Billy Wilson. I swear I'm gonna see that man dead before long.

Road to Copper Bend, May 12th, 1525 After Founding

We left what used to be the Boot Ranch behind us late yesterday, seeing as how I refused to leave the bodies of good men out for the animals to pick at. Les was the only one man enough to help me dig graves for them. While we was digging, Carter called out that he saw a pack of Coyotes just sitting about a quarter-mile out. Nine of them, just a staring at us fit to give a man the shivers. He didn't shoot at them, on account of they was too far to hit accurately and he didn't want to waste any bullets.

We left the one survivor behind, patched up as best as Doc could. Les did such a job on the poor feller, Doc had to take his arm above the elbow. We left him food for a couple days, more than enough to reach the next closest farm. Doc swears he's sure the feller will survive.

I spent the afternoon and up till dark as we put some trail between us and the ranch riding long scout, barely in sight of the wagons. Just watching for coyotes. Didn't see any, but I still feel uneasy. Tomorrow, we pull into Copper Bend. Thank the Lord, I've done plum run out of whisky.

Boot ranch, May 11th, 1525 After Founding

The trail between the Christianson farm and the Boot ranch was pretty uneventful. Jack and Carter bagged a couple rabbits and a snake... Not really much game on the prairie this time of year to supplement the food that we all suspect we're going to pay out the ass for.

The Boot ranch looked much more prosperous than Christianson's little place. Joe Boot appears to have made enough money to be able afford extra hands on his ranch, judging from the bunkhouse. There's also a barn and a grain silo, in addition to the large corral for his cattle. As we rode up, leaving Billy Wilson behind in his chuckwagon again, I motioned for Carter to take up position near the only tree we've seen for over a week, and for Jack to take the Doc and set up near the silo.

Three men came running out of the bunkhouse as Lester and I rode up to the main house, two running around behind the bunk and one hightailing it over behind the house. I couldn't tell immediately if they was armed, on account of how fast they was running. Mr. Boot opened the door as I stepped up onto the porch, and I stood there staring down the wide open barrels of his shotgun.

When I explained that we were here to peacefully collect the $2000 dollars he owed for his land, he politely told me to fuck off. I tried witty re-par-tay, and plain out threatening him with a bullet in the brainpan from Carter's Henry, but he was not to be swayed no matter what I said. I had just started to step back off the porch when all hell broke loose.

I heard Jack's old percussion repeater crack off followed by a scream from behind the bunkhouse... the kinda scream that a feller don't get back up from, if you know what I mean. All I remember after that is thinking "Oh Shit!" as Boot pulled the trigger on his shotgun. Underneath the boom of Boot's weapon, I heard the distinctive CRACK of Carter's Henry Rifle.

I felt and heard buckshot ripping by me, plucking at the trailing edge of my coat as I desperately swung aside trying to dodge, and somehow managing to come out unharmed. Praise the Lord! I wipped back around, yanking my pistol from the holster as Boot's body thumped to the floor inside the doorway, a gaping hole right between his eyes. I did warn him that Carter had him dead to rights....

Lester darted off to the left of the porch, toward the barn and started firing at another ranch hand that was drawing a bead on the Doc. He fanned his peacemaker like a real pro, stitching the rancher from the stomach up through his shoulder with 3 shots, taking him down. I darted to the left of the door, scanning inside the house and caught sight of another man aiming a pistol at me, and we started exchanging bullets while Carter fired away with his Henry. I remember at one point hearing him call out "Oh dear, I seem to have been shot!". Things got a bit confusing after that, while I was trading fire with the man inside the house, Lester looped around the back and took out the rancher that had darted back there, while Carter somehow managed to totally disarm the third man behind the bunkhouse in retaliation for hitting him.

When the smoke cleared, the only prior resident of the ranch that survived was the rancher that Lester took out behind the house, but I'm not sure how long he'll live. Jack started stripping the house of every bit of food he could find while I checked out the horses in the barn. 3 swaybacked nags that should have been retired years ago, and one moderately decent if nearly past her prime horse. Carter called the Doc over to help patch him up. I'm not sure where all he got hit, but there's an oddly suspicious hole through the crotch of his fine pants now and the Doc has taken to calling him "Lefty Carter"... Seems reasonable, since he is a southpaw.

We came back around front of the house to find Billy Wilson coming out with a lockbox, counting out cash to the sum of $6000. Why in hell didn't Boot just pay up? I just don't understand... Billy started handing out $20 to each of us, at which point I got a bit riled up. I said to him, "Seems to me, the railroad is owed about 2000 of those dollars there, leaving the rest for us to split." The others were quick to agree and chime in. Billy suggested we take that up with Mr Almer back in Carson City and handed Lester his $20, at which point I noticed his hand had been on his pistol and ready to draw. I never even saw him move....

I begin to wonder if I've sold my soul to the railroad company... It seems the price of the lives of six men today were cashed in for $20. I'd tell Mr Wilson to watch his back, but I suspect he already is.

I'm not sure how much more of this job I can take before I become just like the men that killed my family and set me on this road in the first place.

Christianson Farm, May 6th. 1525 After Founding.

4 days out, we finally reached the first ranch we're supposed to collect from. The owner, name of Will Christianson, owed $450 dollars. Really small farmhouse with 4 really small head of cattle and a couple horses. Mr. Wilson drew up the chuckwagon a ways back and motioned for us to go on ahead and "Deal with it".

Lester and I rode up and hitched our horses near the porch, Carter and Jack stayed back with their rifles, while the Doc just stood around holding a shotgun near them... not sure what he was thinking to hit at that range, but ok. I knocked on the door and decided to do the talking and let Lester look intimidating. Mrs. Christianson answered, looking very pregnant and more than a little scared. Can't really blame her... I asked after her husband and she told us he was out in the west fields and would be back around sunset.

With a little discussion, we decided to ride out to meet him. The Doc spotted him first, leading a couple more cows back in from the fields. We set up in his path, with Carter off a bit to the side with his Henry. He pulled up pretty sharp when he noticed us, then came ahead cautiously.

I explained why we were there and suggested we head back to his ranch to discuss the matter of payment. When we arrived, Mr. Wilson was sitting on the porch with the wife who was looking even more scared than earlier. I went inside with Will, who decided it would be prudent to carry his rifle in with him. I didn't much like that, but decided not to press the issue.

Turns out he only had about half the money. Not good. I suggested we go out and discuss alternate payment with Mr Wilson, perhaps we could take his cattle? He didn't react well to the additional request that he leave the rifle on the mantle. When I explained that we wanted to resolve this without bloodshed and didn't want to threaten him, he pretty obviously didn't believe me, and started to get more agitated. I could see his kids peeking down from the loft... I called outside to Mr. Wilson, asking what we could work out, partial payments, etc, at which point Carter and Jack came in to join the conversation. Jack suggested renegotiation the lease on the land to a smaller acreage. Mr. Wilson pretty much shot that down, payment is all or nothing.

I was still standing there in front of Mr Christianson, his kids looking down on us and him with that spencer in his clenched in his hands. I handed him back his $200 and said "Take your kids, your wife and your cows, whatever you can carry, and leave." with my heart breaking inside me. He started to raise his rifle, and I could hear Carter cocking that old Henry. "I don't want to have to kill you in front of your kids. You said you got good neighbors that'll help you out... please, just take your stuff and go."

Thank the Lord above, he broke before we had to kill him. We watched him pack up and head off down the dark road as night was falling.

I already hate this job, and I suspect it's only going to get worse.

Carson City, May 2, 1525 After Founding

The new boss I was talking about is Jack Almer. He works for the Railroad, which pretty much owns Carson City. Job posting was "No questions asked"... I had some reservations about signing their contract, but $100 up front and $50 more on completion sings quite a song for a man with nothing.

Figured out why it was "no questions asked" right quick and in a hurry after signing. Mr. Almer has hired me and 5 other desperate men to collect overdue mortgage payments from ranchers along the river... or evict them if they can't pay. Not exactly what I'd like to be doing. We also have to pay back the company for whatever food we eat while on the trail. I got a bad feeling about that.

Our expedition is led by Billy Wilson, another company man. He owns the horses and tack and the chuckwagon we'll be using. Mr. Wilson looks like a hard man, not someone you want to cross. At least he has decent horses.

The other men are a pretty mixed bunch.

We got a cityboy name of Carter, all decked out in a pinstripe suit and bowler cap with Re-fined attitudes. Looks like he can handle that Henry rifle he bought at the company store with his advance.

A gunslinger who introduced himself as Lester Moore, seemed to think everyone should recognize his name. Wears his mustaches so long you can't even see his mouth. I hope he can actually use those Peacemakers he bought, I don't think it'll be long before this job turns south.

Jack White, a scruffy old mountainman. Must be really down on his luck to be down here in the first place. His beard has a blazing white stripe down from his chin. Not sure why he picked that old Colt Percussion Repeater...The company store clerk looked at him like he was crazy, and ol' Jack just smiled.

Doc Lawson, the same Doc that sewed up the wound I came into town with, is coming along "just in case".

There's also this weird little oriental guy following us... he just stares at us when we talk to him, didn't buy nothing at the store.

I wasn't able to afford what I wanted from the store, ended up with a Remington six-shooter and an old double-barrel hogleg. That, plus ammo, some rope for a lasso and this journal used up near all my cash.

We're heading out west toward the first ranch early tomorrow.