TRAGIC MISTAKE

by doc

Part 43

Albert Savitch, thankful for the extra clothes he carried in his saddlebag, had managed to get out of his blood-stained garments and clean himself up real good. Blending into the crowded saloon, he carefully kept his distance from his prey. The unstable man derived evil pleasure from knowing he was just a few yards away from Larabee and the legendary gunfighter didn't even know he existed. Y'll know 'bout me soon enough. he thought with a chuckle, glancing casually at the gunman slumped in his chair. Hell, if'n ya had long ta live, y'd never ferget me, but so long as ya know who's killin' ya and why, I'll be happy.
Tapping his glass on the bar, he was rewarded with another beer and then turned his attention to the rough figures around him. He'd been biding his time, waiting patiently for the right moment to begin his onslaught. Spotting a likely candidate, he began to plant the seeds of discord that he hoped would sprout once again into an uproar.
Nodding to the man beside him, he said "Quiet night, ain't it?"
"Yep" replied the dirt farmer, in town for the day he was happy to have someone to talk with, anxious to catch up on the happenings around town.
"Too damn bad 'bout that newspaper woman, ain't it?" continued Alby, a mad gleam lighting his eyes.
"You mean Miz Travis?" replied the farmer, confused, "What 'bout her?"
"Hell, that damn tracker attacked her! Don't know fer sure what he done to her but she left town right quick, so I guess we c'in figger out pretty close. Got away with it too, them peacekeeper friends a'his got him tucked up nice'n safe over the Liv'ry. Guess if'n ya got the right friends ya c'in get away with anythin'."
"Well that ain't right! Miz Travis is a good, decent woman!" the man's voice began to rise, inflamed by the beer he'd been drinking and the vicious fuel Albert Savitch was heaping on. "Ain't nobody gonna do nothin'?"
"Told ya, Nothin' c'in be done, he friends 'r protectin' him." replied Alby, pleased that his plan was working so well.
"Ain't right!" exclaimed the man again, his strident, angry voice cutting through the clamor of the saloon. Warming to his subject and the attention of the crowd, the farmer got louder and more insistent, "Folks just gonna sit back and let a good woman like Miz Travis be treated like one a Wickes’ woman and do nothin' about it? Those peacekeepers work fer the town, I say we go over there and demand they earn their keep and jail the bastard!"
The town's people, denied their vengeance earlier by the lawmen were only too anxious to renew their efforts. "Shouts of "He's right!" and "I'm with ya!" resonated throughout the crowded room, as chairs slid back and men began rushing toward the batwing doors.
Ezra stood and met Josiah's eyes across the crowd. He'd seen the preacher and Chris get to their feet but he knew the mob was too fired up to reason with. Their only hope was to prevent the surging mass from actually getting their hands on the injured tracker.
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The atmosphere in Nathan's clinic was somber and worried, even the naturally irrepressible J.D. was restrained. He and Buck had been sitting quietly, unwilling to leave but uncertain what their rolls should be in the heavy silence.
Vin had stirred several times but when Nathan and Nettie Wells tried to beg him back to consciousness, he'd just groaned and drifted off again. Nathan had finally pronounced that Vin wasn't really waking, just reacting to the pain assailing his body. He didn't actually believe that... but it sounded better to him than the truth - the self-sufficient, bullheaded tracker wasn't fighting to live.
The mood had become so oppressive that J.D. and Buck were strangely pleased when they heard the unmistakable sounds of unrest from the street below. Here was something they were equipped to deal with!
Both men were on their feet, guns drawn before the footsteps pounding up the stairs had reached the landing. Buck moved quickly to the door and dashed through it to face an angry rush of indignant townspeople and drunken cowboys, always ready for a diversion, who had been caught up in the out of control mob.
The appearance of the young sheriff and his mentor quickly drove the men on the stairs to retreat so only the peacekeepers stood over the crowd when Nathan and Nettie Wells came out the door. The old woman fully intended to fight anyone who tried to get to "her boy" and her determination was plain in the set features of her weathered face.
Buck, J.D., Nathan and Nettie could see the others trying to make their way through the angry crowd but their progress was slow and Buck doubted that he, Nate and the kid could hold off the mob if they decided to rush the stairs and get to Tanner.
Chris Larabee was becoming more frustrated with each angry step he took, his forward progress blocked by the unruly mass of people. As he manhandled his way through, yelling and a crashing rumble from behind the Hotel drew Larabee's attention from his goal of reaching the stairs and backing up his friends. Being at street level and buried in the crowd, the gunfighter couldn't see clearly what was causing the racket but a terrible realization stopped him in his tracks.
A quick glance at the horror stricken faces of the men and Nettie on the verandah confirmed Chris's worst fear, and drove him forward in a vain attempt to prevent the seemingly inevitable.

Part 44

Vin had been semi-conscious for some time, aware of who was in the room - and who wasn't - but reluctant to surrender the shielding distance he had maintained between himself and the anxious people around him. Now the atmosphere had changed drastically and the tracker's inbred defense mechanisms forced him to total awareness.
Dragging his heavy eyes open, the tracker scanned the room uneasily, quickly noting that everyone had rushed to the verandah in response to a loud, threatening crowd gathered outside. Vin had no doubts about the cause of the uproar and a stab of fear for his friends lanced through him.
Grabbing hand full's of sheet around his cold limbs, Tanner forced himself from the cot , his focus on the small front window of the clinic. Leaning heavily on the edge of the cot and then on a chair, he pulled his way across the short distance to the wall where his ruined clothes had been discarded. Pushing the clothes aside, he locked sweat-moist fingers around the stock of his hog's leg.
Breathless and with his chest and side screaming in pain, the injured man propped himself against the wall and turned searching eyes cautiously out the window. Knowing that the angry voices were being raised against him, Vin's only thought was to back-up the others while avoiding being seen from below, knowing instinctively that if the mob saw him, it would only fuel their fire.
Gradually, however; the same rumbling noise that had so stunned the others pushed itself into Vin's consciousness, dragging his gaze away from the throng of malicious people and toward the sound. Shock and horror at the implications of what he saw drove all thoughts of remaining concealed from his mind.
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Alby Savitch couldn't have been happier with the uproar he'd caused. He nearly laughed out loud when he saw Chris Larabee futilely pushing his way through the mass of people. Alby had seen mobs in the past and he knew that this rowdy, drunken group was going to be nearly impossible to contain. See Larabee? he thought Ya think yer so damn pow'rfil but I got 'em all fired up 'gainst ya! Try'n save yer damn tracker now!

Part 45

"Jesus..." hissed Buck Wilmington at the sight that met his eyes. He watched in stunned horror as several drunken cowmen hauled Vin Tanner's creaking, canvas draped wagon up the street.
"Buck..? What's goin' on?" J.D.'s voice penetrated the ladies man's stupor and forced his brain to start functioning again.
"Dear Lord Almighty..." was all Nathan Jackson could manage. The former slave had been witness to man's inhumanity many times in the past but he'd become complacent recently and was appalled to see the overwhelming hatred visible in the street of his town.
Stepping out from the crowd, Ambrose Conklin mounted half-way up the clinic steps and hushed the mob into silence. "Brothers! " he shouted authoritatively, " These 'lawmen' have seen fit to protect a criminal! An animal who brutally attacked one of the finest citizens of this town! The poor woman has fled rather than face the humiliation this monster has inflicted on her and all the while this fiend sits safe and warm in our own clinic! This is intolerable and I say that we, the citizen's of Four Corners will not stand for it!"
"We must make it clearly known that we will not abide such lawless behavior in our town! We MUST stand together and show them who is in charge! We are paying the wages of these lawmen, they work for us! Let us begin reclaiming our town by eliminating the dwelling of evil from our midst!!"
A roar of approval shot up and with much cheering and encouragement from the mob in the streets, Vin's wagon, the only "home" he allowed himself, was pushed and pulled toward one of the many street fires burning brightly in the night.
"BURN IT!" demanded Conklin raising his fist in the air, and the chant arose and echoed through the darkness.
"BURN IT!" BURN IT!" "BURN IT!" BURN IT!" roared the mob.
+ + + + + + +
In the small clinic, a pair of pain-filled blue eyes watched as spiteful men pushed a tattered wagon toward the open flames. Scanning the mob, hopelessness and defeat engulfed the tracker when he could detect no sign of the one man who could prevent the destruction of his haven, the man that Vin knew would have been the first one there to defend someone he considered a friend.

Part 46

Using brute force, Chris Larabee, with Ezra and Josiah close on his heals, thrust his way through the angry crowd to the steps of the clinic. With a snarl, the gunman grabbed Conklin by the lapels and threw him down the remaining stairs into the street. Pulling his colt, the Chris fired three quick rounds over the heads of the men attempting to position Vin's wagon over an open street fire.
Everyone on the street froze at the sharp report of gunfire. While each man had enthusiastically joined in the rally to punish the tracker, the sight of the enraged black clad gunfighter brought instant realization that being one of the throng could not protect them from the deadliness of Chris Larabee's aim should he direct his barely controlled rage toward them.
"Put that goddamn fire out!" roared Larabee. A quick glance at the furious gunman and the equally fierce men surrounding him told the suddenly sober townspeople that they should do as they were told if they wanted to live to see daylight. The wagon was quickly pulled from the licking flames and doused with water from a horse trough.
"I'm telling you for the last damn time that Vin Tanner never hurt Mary Travis!" Chris spat out at the now soundless throng. "Now get out of the street before we begin shooting." The calm, cold tone the gunfighter's voice had taken on sparked more fear than his previous furious roar had. This was a man who wouldn't think twice about opening up on the crowd in the street if they failed to obey him. The words fell like ice water, chilling the anger and alcohol out of everyone within hearing.
With heads bent to avoid showing their fear to those around them, the townspeople and cattlemen began shuffling away, determined to forget this night ever happened.
The six peacekeepers and Nettie Wells watched as the last man disappeared into the darkness before they holstered their weapons and turned to enter the clinic.
Sadly, in the small, deserted room, the devastated tracker had lost his tenuous hold on consciousness just moments before Chris had stepped up to defend him and save his refuge.
+ + + + + + +
Albert Savitch was fuming that Larabee had once again thwarted his plans. His frustration and anger were quickly building to a boiling point and he decided he was going to have to take more direct action against the man whose very existence had become a consuming obsession.
The seething man backed into the darkness of an alley as the crowd disbursed. He wasn't sure what his next move would be but he knew it had to give him some satisfaction. This playin' games with Larabee always winnin' was pissin' him off!
As he turned to retreat and plan his next move, motion at the entrance to the alley caught his eye. The sight of one of the saloon girls lingering curiously on the boardwalk quickly captured the evil man's interest. Hi there girly! Yer jus' what I need ta take the edge off! he sneered. Sliding back into the darkness, he crept through the shadows, quietly stealing close to where she was standing and then, striking like a cat, he silently snatched the young woman into the blackness of the deserted alley.

Part 47

Nathan, intent on confirming that the commotion outside hadn't disturbed his patient, was the first to enter the clinic with the others close on his heals. His brown eyes widened in shock when he saw the empty cot.
Chris Larabee, once again feeling the peculiar connection he and Vin shared, had already discovered his unconscious friend before the healer had a chance to turn and look.
"Vin...?" Larabee's heart sank when he saw the mare's leg still clutched in the tracker's hand. Damn it Tanner… after what I done, you're still watchin' our backs? Chris quickly lifted Vin and placed him gently on the cot. Nathan shouldered past the stricken gunfighter to check over the unconscious man, noting fresh blood on the bandages covering the battered torso.
"Dammit Vin! You broke open half the damn stitches I put in!" His voice edged with frustration and alarm, the healer began cutting off the bandages he had so painstakingly applied such a short time before.
"Josiah, get me some water, I gotta clean these wounds and sew him up - again! Rest a'ya get outta here. Don't need y'all under my feet!"
While Chris and Nettie made no attempt to leave, Buck, J.D. and Ezra, taken aback at hearing the anger edged with fear in the normally patient healer's voice,
quickly removed themselves from the small room.
As Nathan, with Josiah's help, set to work repairing the damage Vin had done to himself, Nettie moved to the far side of the pale man's bed and took the still hand in hers. With a sad sigh, she began stroking the too-warm skin, hoping that the young man would somehow know that he wasn't alone anymore; that his friends were there caring for him.
Chris Larabee re-took the chair against the wall where he had spent so many tormented hours over the past day and returned to staring at the too still form on the bed.
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"There, he's stitched up again. Now he best stay that way!" Nathan said firmly as he stood and stretched his aching back. Glancing at the worried faces around him, the healer took a deep breath and slowly let it out before turning to the motionless, man in black, his angst-ridden attention again locked on Vin.
"Chris... Josiah? You should go try'n get some rest, he'll probably be out the rest of the night." the black man said kindly.
"Alright brother, I do believe I could use some sleep... you comin' Chris?"
"No." came the uncompromising reply from the disheartened gunslinger.
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Awareness returned slowly to the injured tracker. With the growing return of his senses came breathtaking pain and it took him long minutes to get enough control of the agony attacking every part of his body to allow the consciousness pulling at him to drag him from the too comforting blackness. Slowly, he became aware of a work-roughened hand stroking his arm. Nettie. He could feel her reassuring presence as a child knows when their mother is near. For a moment he allowed himself to relax into the soothing aura of protection that the woman brought him, but too soon he was jolted from the peace by fresh waves of horrifying memories.
A low groan brought Nathan and Nettie quickly to alertness and they began to talk softly to the anxious man, trying to calm him with their presence but Vin's increasingly anxious movements made it clear they were having little success.
As the healer and elderly woman coaxed and cajoled the injured man, Larabee remained sitting silently away from the cot, watching Vin with heartache clearly visible in his green eyes.
As the tracker became more distressed and began to fight Nathan's calming hands, Chris stepped forward to speak softly to his friend, "Vin, calm down, you're safe now."
The impact of his words on the injured man was immediate and disconcerting. The sharpshooter turtled into himself, guilt and anguish clear in the very language of his body; forcefully confirming that the badly injured man was suffering from far more than just physical wounds.
+ + + + + + +
Throughout the evening, Vin woke sporadically, and each time his pain-filled blue eyes scanned the clinic stopping only when they came to rest on the solemn man in black. And each time, Vin would become anxious, withdraw back into himself and finally, allow the darkness to reclaim him.
After the latest episode of the injured man repeating the process; searching, locating Chris and becoming distressed and anxious, his movements obviously pain filled, Nathan had had enough.
The healer knew that giving Vin laudanum was dangerous but he was fast realizing that he couldn't risk Vin hurting himself further. Nathan decided he would have to take the chance and although only semi-conscious, Tanner fought at the first indication that something other than water or a healing tea was being poured down his throat. With Nettie's help, Nathan managed to force only a few precious drops down the injured man's throat.
The effects of even the small amount of drug he swallowed, combined with the energy Vin had exerted in fighting Nathan, quickly took a toll on the tracker and he lapsed into a deep but still restless sleep.
"Chris, he can't go through this no more. All this agitation he goin' through is tearin' him up."
"Can he travel?" asked Buck who had wandered quietly back into the clinic in time to hear Nathan's concerned words.
"Why?" asked Nathan, turning searching eyes on the ladies man.
"Well, Nate, I don't know what's been goin' on in here, but the air outside ain't nowhere near as calm as I'd like it to be, and ol' Vin's pretty sharp, he don't need to be conscious to feel the bad air. I'm thinkin' maybe he'd be more comfortable where the moods a bit lighter."
"Yea, thinkin' you might be right. He sure ain't restin' here…" Nathan looked at Vin consideringly, "Yea, I think he can be moved, in a wagon, if we pad 'im up good with blankets and ya go slow n'easy, he'd probably do alright." Nathan affirmed thoughtfully. "But where?"
"Boys 'n I talked about this." The ladies' man turned compassionate blue eyes on Larabee as he continued, "Figured we might need to get him out of town, if things got ugly." Buck's irrepressible grin broke through as he glanced at his old friend, "And you know how I hate ugly." Meeting the unblinking Larabee glare, Buck cleared his throat and continued. "We think the safest place'll be your shack..."
"Think that's probably gonna be best, get him away from all the uproar..." agreed the healer, jumping in before Chris could speak. "I'll go with him..." Nathan's voice tapered off as he thought about his next words carefully.
"Chris, I don't think you should go." Nathan said softly, turning sympathetic brown eyes to the misery-filled green eyes of the gunman. "I'm sorry... but seein' you just seems to upset him more..."
The gunfighter turned his sad gaze back to the unconscious man.God, he looks so young. Like a boy... A boy that grew up too hard and too fast... and my stupid, vicious actions took away the only place he'd allowed himself to feel a part of. "Fine." Larabee finally replied, his voice harsh with self- loathing. With a short nod, Chris rose to his feet, "First thing in the morning."
And without a backward glance, Chris Larabee walked out of the clinic, closing the door firmly behind him.

Part 48

Morning dawned gray and cold on Four Corners and four peacekeepers - Buck, Josiah, Ezra, and J.D. - were already preparing to move their friend from the unforgiving town.
The night before, after he'd informed the remaining lawmen that they were to move Vin to his shack early the next morning, Chris Larabee had walked out with no indication of where he was going, and the gunman's unpredictable mood had prevented any questions.
When the men arrived at Nathan's clinic at first light to move their friend, they found him sleeping deeply under the effect of the second dose of laudanum Nathan had given him just before the break of dawn. The early hour had been chosen specifically to preclude any run-ins with the locals and it appeared their plan was successful - no one else in the town was stirring - and Chris Larabee was conspicuous in his absence.
Quietly, J. D. and Ezra gathered blankets to cushion a buckboard while Buck and Josiah began the careful task of moving the injured man out of the clinic and bundling him gently in the wagon.
With much regret, Nettie Well's decided to stay in town. She couldn't leave her farm unattended and Casey couldn't be left alone to do all the chores. The concerned woman took comfort in the knowledge that Nathan would take the best care possible of the special young man and she had gotten J.D.'s promise that he would update her immediately should there be any change in Vin's condition.
Nathan climbed carefully in beside the unconscious tracker to cradle him gently during the trip as Josiah took the reins. J.D disappeared briefly into the livery and returned leading Peso. Slowly the precious cargo moved forward, with Buck and J.D. riding silently alongside, Vin’s big black with the white blazed face trailing optimistically behind.
Such was their concentration on their gentle task that none noticed the man in the still-shadowed alley tracking their every move with pain-filled green eyes.
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The hunger for blood can be a powerful motivator and Alby Savitch was quickly becoming obsessed by his lust. His unsuccessful attack on Mary Travis and subsequent assault on the tracker had just served to heighten his desire to the boiling point. Then he'd grabbed that barmaid off the street, right under everyone's noses! All the distractions and uproar in town had allowed him plenty of time to really enjoy himself with her and while he'd been briefly sated, the craving was growing more powerful than ever, threatening to consume him.
Albert strolled into the saloon just after noon of the day Vin was taken out of town by his friends. He looked around and smiled to himself, a smile that more closely resembled a sneer as he scanned the room and confirmed to himself that no one was the wiser as to his late night activities. Stepping up to the bar, he asked for a beer and set about enjoying it at his leisure, planning his next move.
The evil man had to force himself to refocus his attention to the purpose that had brought him to this dirty little backwater of a town in the first place - killing that sonofabitch Larabee. Now, added to that ambition was hunting down that damn interfering tracker and finishing him off!
Unfortunately, neither man seemed to be accessible so he turned his thoughts again to satisfying his lust...

Part 49

Buck, Josiah, Ezra, and J.D. had returned to Four Corners immediately after settling Vin in the healer's care at Chris's shack. While they were decidedly uneasy about leaving the two men alone, each understood that given the unsettled nature of the residents, they were all needed there. Especially since Chris had disappeared.
But life in Four Corners drifted back to normal within a day or so of word getting out that the tracker had left town. With no one left to expend energy and abuse on, the townsfolk had grudgingly returned to their boring routines.
Until the sounds of a man shrieking "MURDER!" shattered the calm and caused a renewed surge of unrest.
Four peacekeepers rushed toward the shouts and pushed their way through the gathering crowd to find the bloodstained body of a young woman stuffed behind a barrel in back of the General Store. From her appearance, she had apparently been dead for quite a while, only the cold keeping her body from being discovered.
"That's Jolene!" exclaimed J.D., recognizing the young woman who had recently arrived in town and taken a barmaid job at the saloon. "Who coulda done this? What should we do with her?"
"Whoa boy, slow down! First let's get her off the street, we'll take her to Nathan's." replied Buck as he and Josiah lifted the dead girl and began to carry her toward the clinic.
Once inside, and having placed the body on a cot, Josiah began to carefully examine the brutalized young woman.
"Shouldn't Nathan be here to do that?" the youngest of the seven asked anxiously.
"The girl's dead, J.D., Nathan can't help her and he's takin' care of Vin and that's most important." replied Buck reasonably, "Besides, looks like Josiah knows what he's doin'."
"Might look like it, brother, but I'm just doin' what I think is right." the preacher replied, his voice thick with sadness. "This is about the worst I've seen. Poor thing, probably burdened with a hard life and now sufferin' a horrible death. Unfortunate soul, hope she's found peace with her maker now."
"Yes Mr. Sanchez, we are all comforted that she is now at peace, but more to the point at hand, can you enlighten us as to how the ill-fated creature was introduced to her maker?" inquired Ezra calmly.
"Well... looks like she was grabbed from behind - bruises on her face and neck look like hand marks - and she was probably assaulted... er.. you know..." the big preacher hesitated to put the ugly details of the assault into words.
"Yea, we know.." snarled the ladies man, his voice thick with anger, "Go on..."
"Yes, well, then she was stabbed. Real savage and angry, like whoever did it was enjoyin' carvin' her up. Probably made a mess of himself but had plenty of time to get cleaned up by now."
"So gentlemen, now that we have deduced what happened to the hapless young lady, what do we do about it? Any suggestions as to how to capture the unknown miscreant?" asked Ezra reasonably.
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As the townspeople disbursed, excitedly discussing the latest incident to stir up their town and add excitement to their otherwise drab lives, no one noticed the stranger in the well worn but freshly scrubbed, clothes lingering on the fringe of the crowd.
Alby hadn't thought he could feel more excited than when he was working on a woman, but watching the fool lawmen carry his victim's body right past him without realizing he was the author of this handiwork, gave him a thrill like he'd never known.
Simpletons! he thought, Y'all think yer so damn smart! But poor ole Alby Savitch made ya all look like asses! HAH! I c'n come an' go as I like and yer all none the wiser... got no fear of any a' ya knowin' me, ya was all so damn quick to leave me fer dead. Well, now we'll jus' see how you like findin' all the folks I leave fer dead!
Alby strolled back to the saloon where he could relax and enjoy, and maybe participate in, the many discussions of the "mysterious killer".

Part 50

Nathan had been tending Vin for almost four days and he was not happy with the progress - or lack thereof - the tracker was making.
After a two day battle against the raging fever the young man had developed, Nathan's exhaustive labors were at last rewarded when Vin finally broke into a cooling sweat and his temperature dropped significantly. And while a mild fever lingered, the sick man was now on the road to recovery.
Nathan had anticipated that when his fever broke, Vin would begin the healing process. He couldn't have been more wrong.
The sharpshooter became even more distant and withdrawn than he'd been when he was balancing on the fine line between life and death. Vin had noticeably recoiled into himself and, aside from asking to be left alone, nothing the healer did or said elicited any response.
To make matters worse, several times Nathan had observed his friend with silent tears on his cheeks, lost in an abyss of misery, the depths of which were known only to himself. The compassionate man's heart ached for his friend and Nathan was certain that if the man would just talk to him, Vin would understand that Chris and the boys knew they had made a terrible, tragic mistake in blaming him for the attack on Mary and that they were all truly sorry. But no matter how much he coaxed, begged, or demanded, he couldn't get Vin to listen or open up and share his grief.
So all Nathan could do was continue to treat Vin's physical injuries and pray that his friend would survive his emotional hell.
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Much to the peacekeepers' dismay, no headway had been made in identifying Jolene's killer. The girl was laid to rest in the barren cemetery with the costs paid for anonymously.
After the simple service, attended by a few real mourners and many who were driven by morbid curiosity, the four lawmen returned to the saloon for a drink and to ponder the problem.
Buck had ridden out to Chris's shack earlier that day to check on Vin's progress and received the same report all the others had; Vin's ‘physical" condition was slowly improving but he was still unresponsive to any attempt at communication.
Compounding matters, there had been two more attacks on women in the town since poor Jolene was murdered, but fortunately not with the same dreadful results.
To add to the tension, it had been going on seven days since anyone had seen hide nor hair of Larabee and concern for him was niggling in the back of everyone's brains. So it was an unsettled group that gathered in the saloon for a drink nearly a week after the horrible night when their ordeal had started.
"Damn, this is gonna drive me 'bout crazy!" exclaimed Buck, "Who the hell is attackin' these women and where the hell is Chris?"
"Yea... We're the law... We should be able to catch this guy!" J.D. exclaimed, looking at each of the other men in turn.
"Easier said than accomplished, my friend. In order to catch said criminal, we first must identify him and he has thus far succeeded in leaving very few clues as to his identity."
"Well it's damn frustratin'! Although… the ladies do seem to enjoy my big protective embrace, if ya know what I mean!" Buck's grin lit up his whole face, as he winked suggestively at his friends.
Shaking his head at Buck's irrepressible good humor, Josiah scanned the faces of the occupants of the saloon, "Ezra's right, J.D., I'm afraid until he gets careless or someone witnesses him in the act, our hands are tied."

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