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Vern looked straight ahead, leaning slightly backwards. He was showing no emotion at all. Deep inside, he wanted to punch the pretentious Registrar in the face. But that was not the thing to do. This was important for Hurd, and for himself. Their work, their livelihood. He simply gave Dusaine a stern look, and let Hurd finish talking before adding: -That´s right. We ain´t no killers. But we ought to take care of our own. So, the bottom line, Mr. Dusaine. What is it?

The Registrar looked at both men. These were true cowboys. Vernon Adams was tough as nails, and Hurd Price was quickly earning his reputation. Frontier man that worked hard to make it here in the West. They were also men of principle. And men of honor who walked a very straight line. –I-I am on your s-side in this matter, gentlemen, believe you me, he said wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. –However, I have a professional reputation to maintain. If it so happens that you are arrested and convicted, or if you choose to flee from the Law however unfair it could be, and I have endorsed your application for land ownership, the circumstances would be investigated under the tightest scrutiny…

-We ain´t gonna flee, sir, Vern replied interrupting this nonsense.

Mayer went back in the saloon still thinking about Maddox. The lawman looked tired indeed, or maybe he felt he did not have a choice. Maybe he did not have one.

Inside, Lucas was sitting next to the blonde woman Mayer had seen a moment ago. He was gently holding her hand as they talked. He was showing he also had a gentle side. On the other end of the empty saloon, next to the bar, there was a man standing, dressed in cowboy clothes and fine boots. He was waiting to be served, even though it was early morning and the bar was not yet open. It took a moment before Mayer recognized him from the day Rosanna had arrived. He was Jason Bronson, Vincent´s son.

-Whiskey. Now, Jason said without turning as he heard Mayer walk in, mistaking him for a bartender. The cowboy pulled down his scarf from his neck to cool down after the ride from his ranch, and tapped the bar with his fingers.

Morning, Cotton - Crowe slightly tipped his hat as a greeting and entered Ryan Cotten's office. - That he did - he answered briefly when the man asked, hoping Harvey wouldn't mind. He had thought Harv wasn't coming along, but he wouldn't be the one to tell him to beat it unless it was absolutely necessary - What have you heard about Maddox? What's his endgame?

-I ain't the bartender, son -I said-, and the bar is not open yet.

I knew he was Bronson's son, but Lucas' was not his ranch. I wouldn't take orders from him, except if Lucas said so. I didn't like the tone he was using, but I knew he wouldn't like my answer neither, so I tried to be a little bit kind.

-Maybe we can share some zarzaparrilla if you like.

- Ya heard it, Mister. - Hurd said making a head gesture towards his friend with a somewhat solemn face, eyes fixed on Dusaine – Ya can bet yer reputation on Vernon Adams' word. Safest bet ever.

Jason turned around to face Mayer when he called him "son". He was not used to being denied, or talked to that way. But he respected that. He looked at the man standing next to him. His boots, his gun, his jacket. And then their eyes met and locked. -Yeah, I know it´s early. I had some business in town so I rode here. And my throat is damn dry, as if I had eaten sand. But I ain´t drinkin´ no "zarzaparilla". That sounds way too Mexican for me. Bloody beaneaters.

Jason looked at the bottles on the shelf. -I´ll pay for the whole bottle, just want to have one shot. You´re welcome to join.

Lucas was walking down memory lane with Laura, remembering the days of Canyon City. But more importantly, he was trying to comfort her. The past sometimes came back to haunt, and now Laura found herself in a difficult position. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Mayer with Jason Bronson. With a quick nod, he authorized Mayer to serve the son of the powerful cattle baron.

It felt good to be able to trust someone, he thought when looking at Mayer.

Then he continued talking to Laura, hoping Jason would leave quickly once he had finished his drink. -Listen, Laura. It´ll all be alright...

The sheriff took out a whiskey bottle from the bottom drawer, and a fairly clean cup. He served it to Harvey. It seemed like a good idea to keep the hot-headed foreman calm while he talked to Crowe.

-Maddox..., he sighed, he doesn´t see this as a game. It´s more like ... a calling. He holds the law very high, and he ain´t gonna back down easily. That´s my feelin´, son. He´s got that mark.

-Don't try to soften me up, Cotton. Doesn't your lawman want to talk?

Cotton Ryan looked out the window, ignoring Harvey for a moment. -Dunno. I can´t be sure. Maybe this time it´ll be different. I know Sabbath is already different to him than other towns. See? The Lucas´ place over there. I know Lucas and Maddox have a history. And also a man named Mayer, who works for Lucas nowadays. They know Maddox better than I do. If I were you, Crowe, I would talk to them before dealing with Maddox.

-I am not keen on gambling, Mr. Price. But I will take your word as a bond. Now, if Mr. Bronson could also guarantee this transaction, that would give me additional reassurance...

The Registrar saw Vernon Adams about to react, and quickly added: -However, even without him, I am willing to register the "Price Farm" plot for a grand total of $150...

He looked at the two again, and looked down. -No, we make it $130, that is as low as I can go. One hundred and thirty dollars.

So he's that kinda folk - he replied, thinking how difficult it would be to make him forget about it then. Happily, it wasn't his job to talk to that Maddox guy: Not really. - I sure will be talking to them, Cotton. Thanks for the tip. Do you know if the old man who passed was anyone this guy knew? His kin, or maybe a friend or ally?

-Sure -I said after Lucas gave his permission-, it'll be a pleasure.

I took the bottle and two glasses, and served the drink for both. I wouldn't say no to a whiskey, even early in the morning. I offered Jason his shot, and tried the bar-man role.

-Enjoy -I said, raising my glass before drinking-. You looked desperate for a drink, amigo. Something to celebrate related to those bussiness of yours?

-Hm, I asked Maddox the same question. He said no, the old  man wasn´t his kin. This ain´t personal for him, but I reckon very few things are.

Hurd laid back on the chair and scratched his face, pondering. One hundred and thirty dollars. That was a damned lot of money, more than he had earned with the cattle drive job. His savings totalled like thirty bucks, so he would need to get the remaining hundred. It would take a lot of time to get such ammount. He would have to ask Mr. Bronson for another credit...

But Hurd didn't feel like bartering any further with the Registrar. It didn't look like that would make any difference anyway, as bartering was not a knack he possessed. Besides, though Dusaine's fears were justified in a way, Hurd felt insulted and diminished by the gentleman - both himself and, what was even more intolerable, Vern. He wanted to somehow be up to the challenge, to show the snooty tenderfoot that he was a respectable, solvent citizen as well.

- Fair'nuff. One hundred and thirty dollars it is. I... may need some time to gather the money, but... ya got yerself a deal, Mr. Dusaine. - And he offered his callous hand to the Registrar to bind it.

Thanks, Cotton. - he smiled politely - Do you mind if I go talk to Sinta a minute or two? Oh, and, where did you say I could find Lucas? 

–No celebration, just thirsty I guess, Jason replied after putting the empty glass back on the counter. –My pals reckon they can take care of everythin´, so I decided to come in and have a drink. Now, since I´m here, I ought to go up and see Rosanna.

Jason took his Stetson and got ready to turn around and walk up the stairs. –Thank you for the drink… Sorry, I didn´t catch your name…