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"When you begin a cattle drive you can't expect to say you are finished until you have visited a fancy woman and played some games of chance." Wild Bill Hickok

Bronson took 8000 head of cattle across the Kiowa. On the way back, they hit a town called Bannock. They drank their fill, had their women, shot up the town. All just cowboy fun.

The first few days on Mr. Bronson´s wages were boring for Jack Dekker and Choctaw Lee. The town of Bannock seemed interesting at first, but it was a mining town. The miners were working weeks on end and were not expected back until the following week. To make matters worse, a county fair had attracted many of the local businessman and townsfolk. Only one of the saloons was open, and even the local marshal had left, according to the bartender.

Bronson and Stenbaugh did not contact them at all for a few days, and the Jack and Choctaw played cards in the hotel room to kill the time. Then, finally one night they saw four cowboys riding into town. From the hotel window, they could see Bronson coming out to greet them. Quickly, the two men went out…

When Vernon, Sinta and Hurd were getting their horses ready to ride to Bannock, Marc Corman arrived on his horse. Marc had almost a supernatural instinct to know which way the party was, and he had decided to come along and let Brimley take the rest directly to Sabbath.

Vernon did not mind. Marc was fun to be around with, and it was ´bout time he and Sinta shook hands and got it over with. –Let´s ride! Yeehaw!!

The mining town of Bannock was quite remote, and connected to the rest of the world by the Montana Trail. It was founded in 1862, after gold was discovered and named after the local Bannock Indians.

As they approached the town, they could see lights on some of the businesses of the main street. Though all of the businesses were built of logs, some had decorative false fronts.

It was only late afternoon, but when they left their horses in the stable, they were told much of the locals had left to visit a county fair. And the miners would only come back for the weekend, so two of the four saloons had closed for the week.

They were also told Mr. Bronson and Foreman Stenbaugh were expecting them at the “Overland Freight and Storage” warehouse, across the street.

Vincent Bronson greeted Vernon Adams first. The Trail Boss, and one of his most veteran cowboys, he was the man responsible of the success of the last cattle drive of the spring. Vernon was hoping to start his own ranch soon. Marc Corman was another of Bronson´s trusted men. He was a bit overweight, and acted nervous around the boss. Then there were two new cowboys. Hurd Price, one of Vernon´s friends. Hurd had established a small farm with his woman, and did occasional work as a cowboy. Finally, the fourth cowboy was actually a woman. Sinta Custer. She was standing in the background while Vernon answered a few questions Mr. Bronson had.

The two men Mr. Bronson had contracted recently were Jack Dekker and Choctaw Lee, who joined the rest in front of the “Overland Freight and Storage”. They were hired guns. Men ready to use their guns to defend the cowboys against any threat.

-The cattle drives are done now, ´till next year Mr. Bronson, Vernon reported.

-Yeah. This summer, we´ll stock new herd, and protect it, he added looking at Choctaw and Dekker. -With guns if it comes down to it. The cattle baron looked at his men. He did not want to have two factions within the Bronson brand. The hired guns were a necessity, and now they worked for him, the same as the cowboys and ranch hands.

–But tonight, you ought to hit the town. That liquor  store over there has a table for you, and the tanglefoot  is on me!

Bronson´s word were all the encouragement the trail-weary cattlemen and the hired guns needed. One by one they entered the empty store and sat down. In front of them, there were half a dozen bottles of the finest quality labelled whiskey. It was going to be a night of heavy drinking…

On one side of the table, there was Jack and Choctaw. Harvey Stenbaugh was sitting next to Choctaw, and then Marc Corman, Hurd and Sinta. Finally, Vernon was between Sinta and Jack.

-How´s your gut, Harv?, Marc Corman asked smiling and opened the first bottle of whiskey. He was happy to see the foreman back in the saddle after the shooting incident. Vern had done a good job stichin´ Harv, and he looked to be in good shape as he took down the first and the second shot of whiskey.

Choctaw takes the bottle and served a drink to himself.
-Hey fellas, how was your trip? Did ya have any problems?

Smiles and serves a drink to Jack
- Please tell me that we have to shoot someone. We're boring to death

Hurd was usually not a big talker, but tonight he was in a cheerful mood and the new hombres seemed friendly. He smiled and looked at the bottle.

- Problems? I can think o' one: we been outta booze for weeks, heheh. - he pushed his glass closer to the man called Choctaw so he could pour him a shot - Nah, I'm afraid you missed all the shootin'. We came across a bunch of outlaws a few days back, but we managed to shoo'em away.

-Hurd ´ere is d-deadly with his g-gun, I TELL YA!, Vernon yelled and waved his finger at Hurd with his finger. After four shots of whiskey, he was starting to mumble a bit. The coffin varnish tasted damn good, with a flavor of cayanne pepper. –He hit the bastard right in between the eyes, he added pointing his finger to his own forehead. –I reckon he´s the best shot on this table, hands down!

Then he filled his glass and Hurd´s, spilling whiskey on the table.

-I´ll pass, guys, Sinta said and raised her hand to reject the shot of whiskey. Bad memories from her past came back to her. Memories that had made her vow never to touch alcohol.

-You go on and have yer fun, I´ll check on the horses and go get some rest.

Sinta stood up and left the men partying in the empty store.

Hurd lowered his eyes and waved his hand dismissively, a bit embarrassed.

- I keep tellin' ya, Vern. It was just a fluke... - He grabbed his glass and gulped it down - Ya know what they say... Better be lucky than good!

Jack's eyes follow Sinta as she left the room. She looks small but if she has been working for Mr. Bronson she must be really hard.

Then comes back to conversation 

- Next time you will get into trouble we will be there to solve them. With another shot between eyes if necessary - finishes Jack  raising his glass to Hurd and taking a long drink.

The men were getting more and more drunk, and not before long there was the shouting and singing coming out of the empty store. They had worked hard on the cattle drive, they were tired, they wanted to drink themselves silly. And they were far away from home.

Corman was laughing to some silly joke, with tears in his eyes. And then he got serious. –I need a woman, tonite!”, he said and laughed again.

–Here ish, … to the g-gunsh that Bronson has bought to protect our asses, Vern said trying to stand up straight and present a formal toast. But then he lost his balance and almost fell to the floor. Then got up and pushed Marc Corman towards the front door, and the street. Corman was holding another bottle of whiskey –Follow me, everyone. Let´s go. Hurd! Grab that bottle!!! YEEHAW!!

What followed was bit of a haze for everyone. They were drinking on the street of Bannock, then someone started firing his six shooter to the air to celebrate. Then the rest followed. BANG! BANG!

The townsfolk were nowhere to be seen, and the partying went overboard. There was no one to stop them, and they all felt pretty damn good. Corman and Stenbaugh visited the ladies of the line, or at least went in and came out. But it was difficult to keep track of what was going on. They all were out of control that night.

… AND I HATE THE STOREKEEPER´S WHISKEY!