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You want me out of your town. What happened some other time, some other place ain't your trouble. I've seen men like you in every town in the west.You want the law, but you want it to walk quiet. You don't want it to put a hole in your pocket. You take courage from each other, and you come armed.- Jered Maddox

As soon as Mayer and Crowe entered the general store, they could feel the tension in the air. It was a large two story shop, but it was full of items and boxes, and there was not much space to stand, much less sit down.

Many of the most prominent people in town had arrived, including the hotel owner Hersham, who was also the interpreter for the mayor Sam Bolden, deaf as a post but when Herhsam yelled to his hearing aid, he could follow the conversation. Also presente were Registrar Dusaine, Moss from the stables and some other business owners.

Luther Harris was standing on top the stairs, watching complacently as his fellow citizens entered his store. He felt powerful. He was angry and upset, but he knew these men needed someone to guide them, to tell them how to face this threat that had come to this peaceful time. These men needed a spokesperson, a true leader.

-You all know why you're here. Our beloved friend and a member of this community, Marc Corman, has been brutally shot to death.

He allowed for the words to sink in. Also, he could not help but to notice the Minister Tyner had decided not to attend. And the sheriff Ryan… Undermining him as the spokesperson for the people. But he did notice with a nod the presence of Mayer from Lucas saloon, and the young cowboy Crowe Wheelwright, probably representing Mr Bronson.

-We have gathered here to discuss this matter that affects us all. This man, Maddox, has come to disturb the peace of our town. He has killed one man already, and it looks like he thinks he can go after more men on his list. Are we going to stand still and allow this to happen?

Harris walked down the stairs and shook everyone´s hand he came across with. Then he stopped in front of the men that were standing behind Crowe and Mayer.

-I agree this man has got to be stopped, the owner of "Sabbath Produce Cowland" said. His business depended entirely on Bronson.

-What happened in Bannock months ago is of no concern to us, but we must respect the law..., the Registrar said bringing into everyone´s attention the legal authority Maddox seemed to have.

-As your mayor, I say we gotta protect our own, the Mayor shouted from across the room.

-We all agree, this town owes Vince Bronson a lot, Moss said and looked at Mayer and Crowe standing next to him. -We all want this matter to be sorted. But what can we do?
 

Sure this town onws a lot to Bronson -I thought to myself- but that doesn't mean he can do as he pleases. If his men are criminals, they've gotta suffer the weight of justice just as everyone else.

I didn't say anything though. I just stood there waiting to see what the people were gonna do. I knew we all wanted the best for Sabbath, and that meant no fuckin' with Bronson, but I didn't want Maddox to get attacked by an angry crowd. He was just doin' his job, bringin' ciminals to justice. He didn't want to bring trouble to our calm lives there in Sabbath.
 

Crowe seemed pleased with the conversation, as the people recognized Vincent Bronson as someone to not only take into consideration, but someone to be appreciated to. And of course, that was exactly what Crowe thought of his boss. Not only was his son his best friend, but the old man had won over his respect several times. 

I'm sure Bronson will be very thankful for your loyalty - he stated, looking for a second to the Registrar as a sort of warning - but he wants to deal with this on his own, set up a meeting and have a talk with him. We'll very much appreciate any information about Maddox, if you really want to help. 

-Of course, we trust Mr. Bronson will deal with this matter in the best possible way, the hotel owner started. Then he stopped talking suddenly, which was unusual for him... His eyes were suddenly fixed at the window, and without thinking he moved closer.

-My Lord, Harvey Stenbaugh is still in town!

Vince Bronson's foreman, his right hand, was an ox of a man. Broad shoulders, tall and strong. Harvey Stenbaugh liked to take the bull by the horns, both literally and metaphorically. He did not like this business of hiding and arranging meetings and begging 'cause some bloody tin star had come from Bannock to cause trouble. 

These thoughts were in his mind when he stepped out of the sheriff's office. Good ol' Cotton Ryan had served him several whiskeys to calm his nerves. 

Suddenly, he saw him.... Across the street... 

Sabbath held its breath. Everyone on the main street ran for cover. Maddox and Stenbaugh!

Sheriff Ryan tried to calm down the foreman by putting a hand on his shoulder, but it was too late. Stenbaugh shrugged him off, and started walking towards Maddox. 

Maddox stood calmly on the porch. He did not know who the man standing next to the sheriff was, but clearly this man felt he had some business with Maddox. And that meant he had some business with the law. 

That was not going to end up well, I could feel it since the first second. But there wasn't anything I could do to avoid it. The sand was gonna turn red with the blood of someone, and it was already too late for me to do something. For me and for anyone in town... I think Bronson is the only one who could've been able to stop his man.

I stood there, using my hand to keep the sun rays away from my eyes, feelin' the sweat running all over my head.

-Maybe there's your meeting, feller -I told my new partner. Though good ol' Vince wouldn't be very pleasured with the result of that faceoff. Whoever may end up dying, it wouldn't benefit him.

-Why do you want to push things until they break, Stenbaugh? Let Bronson handle it. Climb down, Harvey. You can't ride this man, Ryan tried to talk some sense to the foreman. But it was too late. He was not going to back down now, not until he looked into the eyes of this lawman.

-Run to hell, why don't you?, he said to Ryan and didn´t look back. Harvey had felt as if his word did count for much the other day at the meeting. Vince was getting old, weak. In the old days, he would never let some tin star from Bannock come to Sabbath and show a warrant and get away with it. Together, Harvey and the Bronsons had fought the Indians to build this goddamn town. It was time to sort this out, once and for all.

He eyed this fancy-dressed lawman standing in front of the Broken Lance saloon. The foreman had walked to get as close as possible...

-Maddox? I'm Harv Stenbaugh.Well, lawman? I´ve heard you've got business with me.

The lawman did not move a muscle. He stood still, observing with no expression but concentration on his face.

He had been to many towns, most worse than this. And he had seen men that would not hesitate to draw their guns to protect themselves, or to get right a wrong, or to get even. Still, everyone deserved a chance...

-Drop that gun belt. I'm taking you in, he said with a calm voice. He was not threatening, but he did not want to give any options to this man whose name was on his list. Maddox was not going to negotiate with him. He was the law. Nothing more, nothing less.

From inside Harris´ shop, you had a clear view of the corner of the saloon. But the windows were packed, and Crowe and Mayer were almost pushed outside, still far from danger but out on the street. The two men and the rest of the mob were stunned at this new turn of events. It was hard to figure out an outcome that would not change things for the worse. Some  looked at Sheriff Ryan hoping to see a glimpse of the man he once had been. That Ryan from Fort Bliss... But that was in the past. And what they had now were two men ready to kill or to die for what they believed in. Maybe one of them would back down. Maybe Stenbaugh would...

There was almost a smile on the foreman´s face. He opened his jacket somewhat, exposing his Colt Navy pistol. He liked to carry it on the front, across his stomach. More so after the incident with the cattle thieves earlier that year, where he had been shot in the gut.

He was holding his jacket, and then he replied with a cold voice. -No, you're not. You got two ways to move, lawman. Run... or take me.
 

-Stenbaugh, think what you're doing. Bronson wants to sort things up with this man here... Don't do anyhting you'll regret later -I tried to speak loudly, so the man could hear me. I took a few steps forward*, really slowly. I knew he wasn't gonna give a shit about me: blood was gonna run red in just a second, one way or another. And that was just the beginning...