TRAGIC MISTAKE

by doc

Part 66

Mary stood frozen in horror as she watched the black clad gunman sprint down the alley toward Vin Tanner and the man attacking the quiet tracker.
The momentary relief that she'd felt by the presence of Chris Larabee by her side evaporated as she saw the stranger wrap his fingers around a wicked looking knife.
A crushing panic enveloped her and she began to pray silently. Oh God… Please … don't let this happen…
Mary knew she should be doing something to help the men, but still she stood, petrified, unable to move for fear of somehow disturbing the delicate balance that controlled Vin's life.
+ + + + + + +
Chris came to a sudden stop as his eyes took in the sight of a wild-eyed stranger clutching a very bloody, unconscious Vin Tanner, a knife at his friend's throat.
"Let him go." growled Larabee, his colt unwavering in his hand.
"Well now! If I ain't finally comin' face ta face with the great gunslinger!" snarled Savitch, a sneer spreading across his face. "Been waitin' a long time ta meet up with ya again."
"I said, let him go." repeated Chris, his words quiet, ice cold and deadly.
"Hell, sure… I'll let 'im go. He's 'bout done anyway, got no more fun left in 'im." Alby drew the knife up tighter and Chris saw small drops of fresh blood collect on the blade. "But only if you take his place… seein' as yer the one I's after all'long."
Chris' total focus was on the blood collecting on the edge of the knife at Vin's throat so it took a moment for the killer's words to register. Larabee's startled eyes flew to Alby's face, "What?" confusion evident in his voice "I don't know you. Why the hell are you looking for me?"
"Ya sonofabitch!" roared the crazed killer, "Don't stand there an' tell me ya don't 'member who I am! Ya know damn good 'n well why I come here fer you! If this goddamn tracker hadn't got in my way," the man's grip on Vin tightened, eliciting an unconscious groan from the injured man, "I'da took ya down by now… paid ya back fer killn' m' brother!"
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but I guarantee if you hurt him any more, your 'brother' won't be the only one dead!"
"This botherin' ya? Hell, you already damn near beat the life outta him, cain't see why my few little extra touches is a problem…" Alby smiled maliciously, tightening his hand in the auburn curls and drawing Vin's head further back, exposing more of his throat. "Mebe ya'd best throw that there gun down. Then we c'n talk 'bout lettin' pretty boy here live a bit longer."
Chris swallowed hard, trying to get rein in the rage burning through him. Tanner's skin was so pale that it had taken on an eerie glow in the moonlight and Larabee could just barely make out the rise and fall of his friend's chest. While that slight movement gave him some comfort that the tracker was still alive, Chris knew Vin couldn't survive much more abuse.
The blonde gunfighter forced himself to relax, studying the killer closely. The crazed look in the man's eyes told Larabee that trying to reason with the madman would be a waste of valuable time. Time Vin didn't have.
Trying a different tact, Larabee visibly loosened up. The man had said "throw that gun..." Sounded like the madman didn't realize Chris had a second colt, covered by his duster. Relaxing his tight stance to appear less threatening, the gunman slowly tossed the colt he'd been clutching in his right hand on the ground in front of the killer. "Awright. I'm here now. So why don't we just get to it?" he drawled disdainfully, holding his hands out from his sides.
Alby smiled in triumph, slowly rising, pulling Vin Tanner with him, still using the unconscious tracker as a shield.

Part 67

Pain
Consciousness began to shred the comforting cushion of darkness surrounding him and Vin Tanner quickly became aware of an agony which seemed to be tearing through his entire body. The tracker fought to gain control of the torture by taking a mental inventory. The throbbing in his shoulder, abdomen and chest were familiar, he remembered those injuries. But now his neck hurt… What the hell?
Fighting the urge to relax once more into oblivion, Vin cracked his eyes open and tried to take stock of his surroundings. dark… wood crates… he was in an alley…? How the hell did he get here?
Slowly memory returned and with it the sinking feeling that he'd probably lost precious time in his hunt for Savitch.
Without further thought, Vin began to move, only realizing that he was being restrained when something sharp pressed against his throat. An all too familiar fear began to grip him, choking off his air. As he began to struggle against the confinement, a longed-for, comforting voice filtered into his brain.
"Vin, don't move!"
Chris?
+ + + + + + +
Unable to tear herself away from the standoff in the alley, Mary Travis listened in dismay as the madman declared his intention of killing Chris Larabee. She knew that no matter what had happened between them, with Vin's life in the balance, Chris would sacrifice himself without a second thought. And Chris wouldn't even hesitate long enough to realize that the killer would execute Vin anyway!
Shaking herself free of the hold the deadly events transpiring in the dark had created, Mary turned and ran through the darkness in search of the remaining peacekeepers. The newspaper woman knew that time was quickly running out for both men and their only hope may lie in their friends. With a heartbroken sob, she prayed that she would find the men in time and that they would be able to prevent the seemingly inevitable deaths of two men she had come to care for deeply.

Part 68

Chris watched in horror as Vin began to struggle against his captor, dreading the gush of blood that would indicate the deadly knife had severed an artery.
"Vin, don't move!" He cried out to his friend, hoping against hope that Tanner would trust him one more time. Relief and amazement swept over him as the tracker's struggle ceased immediately. But for how long? Larabee knew of Vin's fear of being restrained and he couldn't count on the tracker being alert enough to realize that movement would cause him further harm.
"Let him go!" Chris turned his deadly glare on Alby. "You said it's me you want. I'm here, so you don't need him. Just let him go." The last said almost pleadingly as his eyes swept over the bloodied young man.
"Sure I will. "Savitch shifted and freed his hand from where it was tangled in Vin's long hair. Bending slightly, still holding the semi-conscious man as a shield, Alby wrapped his fingers around the handle of Larabee's discarded colt. "I'll let 'im go. Soon as y've paid fer killin' my brother, the tracker'l be gone too."
The killer smiled evilly as he slid his forearm further around Vin's throat, pulling the injured man more tightly against him. While the sharp cut of the knife was now gone; for the tracker there was a new hell as the pressure of Alby's arm threatened to suffocate the injured man.
+ + + + + + +
When they arrived at the jail, Buck, Ezra and J.D. knew almost immediately that the building was empty. The open door and smashed chair left a powerful message regarding the mood of the man who had been there.
"Well, looks like Chris's on the rampage." Buck shifted his hat back on his head, thoughtfully. "Woulda expected he'd head for the saloon, but since we just come from there and didn't pass no black storm on the way, I ain't sure where we should look for him."
"Perhaps Mr. Larabee has climbed up to Nathan's humble quarters to check on the fate of the unlucky young woman?"
"Guess we can go check Nate's, but I don't think we're gonna find him there." Buck lifted the broken chair back, looking at it consideringly. "Just don't think checking on the sick and injured was on his mind."
"Well… we can't just stand here." Ezra was becoming exasperated, fatigue and worry quickly draining his patience. "Perchance you have a better suggestion?"
"Nope. Guess I don't." Buck dropped the broken wood and grabbed J.D. by the back of the neck, propelling the slightly confused younger man toward the door. "C'mon son. Let's see if we can find the man 'fore some fool gets in his way."

Part 69

Alby Savitch was so delighted at finally having his prey within reach that he wasn't quite sure what to do next. He wanted the bastard sho killed his brother to suffer but he knew he wouldn't have a lot of time. The newspaper woman had disappeared and he was pretty sure she was headed out to get the rest of the peacekeepers. He cursed himself silently; he shoulda taken care of her too.
Alby was nothing if not adaptable. There wasn't anything he could do about her now so he'd just make his fun with what he had.
Tightening his grip on the tracker, the killer waived the colt at Larabee, indicating that the gunman should step to his left, allowing Alby a clear view of the mouth of the alley.
"Shame I won't have time to really enjoy watchin' you die." He said, turning a hateful stare on the man he had hunted for more than two years. "Ya lucked out - yer gonna get to die quick."
As he spoke, he cocked the hammer back and raised Larabee's own gun, aiming it point blank at the gunman.
+ + + + + + +
Vin focused on the memory of Chris's voice, trying to overcome the panic the arm tight around his throat was triggering. He wasn't alert enough to completely understand what was being said but he had heard the concern in his friend's voice and he allowed a warm feeling to spread over him. Somewhere deep inside, he knew somehow his world had been righted and Larabee was watching his back.
The reassure Chris's presence brought allowed the tracker to gather his thoughts and regain some control of his senses. Forcing himself to focus on the danger Larabee was facing, Vin was distracted from the torment the choking restraint was causing. Tanner knew his strength and endurance were depleted and he wouldn't be able to maintain his tenuous hold on consciousness too much longer. He also knew that Alby would kill Chris if he didn't do something to prevent it.
Gasping for air, Vin tried to look around for a weapon, an inspiration, any clue as to how he could take down the bastard holding him. His pain filled blue eyes searched the darkness, but his muddled brain just didn't seem to be able to process anything beyond Chris was here and Alby Savitch was going to kill him.
Before he could work out a plan to overcome the man holding the crushing arm to his neck, Vin heard the unmistakable sound of a pistol cocking and the killer's chilling words …yer gonna get to die quick.
+ + + + + + +
Flying from the alley, Mary Travis ran down the boardwalk toward the saloon, sobs tearing from her throat as she ran. The darkness, now broken only by the scattered street fires did nothing to reassure her as she rushed as fast as her long, heavy skirts would allow.
Determination and fear drove her forward, her total focus on getting to the saloon where she prayed the peacekeepers would be gathered. Her forward momentum was halted suddenly as she ran into a solid body. With a terrified gasp, the blonde woman began to struggle violently as hands closed around her.

Part 70

"Mrs. Travis! My dear lady, please calm yourself! I have no intention of harming you." Ezra's unruffled voice quickly reassured the terrified woman and she relaxed against him with a sob. In actuality, Ezra was anything but unruffled - he had been quite unnerved as the figure suddenly appeared out of the darkness and hurtled directly into him. Only instinct allowed his hands to close around the apparition to keep them both from falling.
Mary's emotions had been in turmoil since seeing Vin fighting the stranger in the alley and now she was drained, almost too overcome to speak. As the conman retained his comforting grip, she found herself unwillingly surrendering to the tears that had been threatening for so long, her mind refusing to provide the words she so desperately needed to say.
"Mary - What're you doin' out alone at night?" demanded Buck, his tone brusque with concern. "You know it's not safe to be out alone as long as that killer's on the loose."
"Buck…!" she finally managed to force out of her emotion choked throat, "You have to hurry! Vin and Chris… HURRY!" The distressed woman began pulling at Ezra's coat lapels, trying to convey the need for urgency to the bewildered man.
"Mary!" demanded Buck, taking hold of her arm and pulling her around to face him. "What are you talking about? Chris and Vin are together? Are they fighting? What's happening??"
"Buck, there's no time! Please, you have to hurry before it's too late." Mary began pulling at the ladies man's arm in desperation, trying to drag him to the alley.
"Ya need to calm down, yer getting' yerself all overwrought - I can't understand what yer sayin'" Buck spoke calmly, as he would to a hysterical child. "Just tell me what's happening."
The blond newspaper woman stopped and stared at the big man in shock, she couldn't believe he wasn't moving. She though she had made the life and death nature of the situation very clear! Apparently the three men were not going to react appropriately until she gave them explicit details.
"Okay Buck, in plain words…." She said quickly, sarcasm dripping from her voice, "Vin is barely alive and he's being held hostage by the man responsible for the attacks in town, including the attack on me. Chris is trying to intervene but apparently the reason the man came to town in the first place was to kill Chris. Is that calm enough for you?"
Mary's words had barely drifted away in the cold night air when the sound of a single gunshot traveled through the three men like a lightening bolt, jolting them into action. "Oh my God… CHRIS!" Buck cried out as the peacekeepers began to run down the boardwalk.
+ + + + + + +
Even in the shadowed alley, Chris saw the hammer cock, heard the slight click that sounded like a cannon. Instinctively, he began to shift to his left, turning his side to present a smaller target as his hand instinctively drew the pistol from under his duster.
Before the colt cleared the leather holster he saw the muzzle flash and felt a solid, staggering blow…

Part 71

NOOOO… Vin didn't even realize that the ragged howl he heard was coming from his own mouth as he saw Alby's grip tighten on the colt. The tracker forced his tormented body back and to the right, shoving Savitch's gun arm against a wooden crate just as the bullet discharged. As Vin turned into Alby, the madman's arm, still holding the deadly knife, slid across the tracker's throat, the blade slicing through flesh as it moved. Tanner didn't notice. From somewhere on the edge of his vision, Vin saw Larabee jerk and he knew his friend had been hit.
Animal rage enabled him to keep moving, taking the killer to the ground. Vin landed on top of the furious gunman and wrapped his left hand around the butt of the gun still clutched in Alby's right hand. Unaware of the further damage done to his already battered body, Tanner fought wave after wave of dizziness as he struggled with the killer, only the leverage of his weight on the madman's arm giving him the edge he needed to hold on.
Alby couldn't believe that he'd finally had Larabee dead to rights and the goddamned tracker had interfered again! He knew the bullet had struck his brother's killer but because of the bastard still holding onto him, he didn't have the satisfaction of watching the man die!
The weight of Tanner's body was effectively keeping Alby pinned as his frustration and fury grew. Groping around with his left hand, his fingers again encountered the hilt of the knife. A rush of vindictive satisfaction swept over him as he raised the knife over Vin's unprotected back.
"Goddamn you! Yer finally gonna pay fer getting' in my way, ya bastard!" he exclaimed as the knife began to arc downward.
+ + + + + + +
The sound of a gunshot splitting the night jolted Nathan and Josiah awake. Both men had just drifted off, exhausted by their efforts to save the young woman who had been so near death.
After many hours of bathing Reba with cool water to fight the fever and forcing water into the sometimes semi-conscious girl, Nathan had finally declared that their efforts had been rewarded and he thought the hotel maid would live.
Now both men blinked the remnants of sleep from their eyes as they tried to decipher what had startled them from the first chance at rest they'd had in days.
"Sounded like a gunshot." said Nathan, rising and quickly checking on Reba. To his satisfaction, the girl continued to sleep peacefully.
"That it did brother." Josiah was already buckling his holster and heading for the door.
"She'll be awright, I best come with you ta see what's goin' on now…" Nathan closed the clinic door quietly behind him and followed Josiah down the long flight of steps. "Any luck, somebody shot the sonofabitch that's been terrorisin' th' town."

Part 72

Larabee's gut reaction to the click of the hammer cocking had been to draw his weapon, only supreme self control preventing the gunman from squeezing the trigger. And then everything seemed to happen in a heartbeat; all thoughts of self defense fled as Chris heard Vin's cry and saw the tracker suddenly spring to life and twist into Savitch. As if by design, the clouds broke long enough for the moon to illuminate Vin's tumble to the ground on top of the killer and the sickening sight of fresh blood darkening the tracker's pale skin.
Chris didn't even hear the revolver discharge and the bewildering impact of the bullet into his shoulder staggered him. Recovering quickly, Larabee stepped toward where Vin lay, his friend's fingers wrapped in a death grip around the colt still clenched in the madman's hand.
Oh God.. Vin… The words came forth involuntarily as Chris realized that his friend may just have sacrificed his own life to save him.
Dismay engulfed the gunman as his world crashed around him. So lost was he, it wasn't until the same moonlight caught the knife as it arced down toward the tracker's back that he realized that the animal who had attacked Mary and killed at least one innocent girl; the bastard who had now murdered his best friend, was still alive.
Without further thought Larabee raised the colt and began firing at the exposed face of the killer. Chris's finger continued to twitch on the trigger long after he'd emptied all the rounds from the cylinder, long after the vicious murderer's head had exploded into a million pieces.
The deafening silence, broken only by the gunfighter's harsh breathing, settled on the alley. Chris stood and stared, not really seeing the carnage he had wrought.
+ + + + + + +
Pounding feet met Nathan and Josiah as they reached the foot of the stairs and they quickly recognized Buck, J.D. and Ezra running toward them. Neither man was surprised that the three lawmen were reacting to the sound of a gunshot. What did bewilder them was Mary Travis being pulled along by J.D. Dunne, her white shawl floating behind her looking for all the world like a specter disturbed from its rest.
"Any idea who's shootin' …?" began Josiah as the men sprinted past. The big man and Nathan shared a questioning look as their friends continued on without hesitating or even acknowledging their presence.
"What the hell's goin' on now?" Nathan asked the question, weariness clear in his voice. The black healer knew that Josiah didn't know any more than he did, so he didn't really expect a response - which was okay, because he really dreaded the answer and the implications of gunfire late at night when decent folks should be sleeping.
Glancing once again at each other, Nathan and Josiah turned reluctantly to follow their friends.
"Nate… was Chris with the boys?"
The sudden, ominous realization that Chris Larabee was not with the peacekeepers coincided with the sound of rapid gunfire, obviously from a single weapon. A ripple of fear electrified the two stunned men and they leapt into action, charging toward the sound that was already drifting away into the cold darkness.

Part 73

Chris had no idea how long he stood, the colt dangling from his fingers, his soul too devastated to exist, when he was torn from his daze by a soft, strained growl…
"Ya jes' gonna stand there all night? C'd use some help here…"
Larabee's eyes widened as he heard Vin's weak, raspy voice.
Chris hurdled forward to catch his friend as the tracker slowly rolled over onto his back, his face turned away from the gruesome sight of the dead man.
Cradling his friend in his arms, Larabee allowed the tears pricking at his eyes to fall unchecked. "Thought you were a dead man." He said his voice choked with emotion.
"Yea, thought the same." Vin gasped out, reaching his hand up to touch the blonde's bloodstained shoulder.
Chris chuckled in relief, not quite sure how to take Vin's words. Did the stubborn, annoyingly self-sacrificing tracker mean he thought he himself was dead or he thought Chris was dead? Larabee knew the latter was probably what concerned his friend the most and was humbled by it.
"Hell, that's just a scratch. I've done worse to myself shaving." Chris quickly checked Vin's neck where he'd been so sure his friend's throat was slit and found a fairly good sized gash across Tanner's shoulder, at the base of his throat. The gunman pulled a bandanna from his pocket and gently pressed it under the bloodstained collar of his previously black shirt.
"Taken to stealing clothes now?" he asked drolly, trying to gain control of the relief and happiness flooding over him, threatening to make him behave in a manner not at all in keeping with his usual intimidating demeanor.
"Hell, least ya owe me is one a yer damn depressin' shirts." Vin retorted, the force of his words belied by a groan as his tortured body reminded him of all it'd been through.
Vin knew he couldn't hold the darkness at bay too much longer but there was something he needed to know before he could surrender to the longed-for relief. The tracker looked searchingly at Chris and seeing the depth of emotion on his best friend's face, Vin's queston was answered; everything was right again. With a slight nod and a satisfied sigh, the exhausted, pain-racked younger man finally allowed himself to succumb to the comforting oblivion beckoning him.
"You're welcome to the shirt and anything else I got, Pard." The gunfighter said softly, his voice husky with emotion as he clung tightly to Vin's unconscious body, determined to shield the younger man from any further pain.
A moment later, five men and a winded Mary Travis charged into the alley and came to a crashing halt at the sight of Chris Larabee cradling a very bloody, unconscious Vin Tanner in his arms, a contented smile on the gunman's tear stained face.

Epilogue

Nathan Jackson stood on the veranda of his clinic watching the still weak but steadily healing tracker. The young man was wrapped in blankets, relaxing in a chair outside the saloon.
The healer thought back over the past week with wonder. Still amazed at the path life had taken.
The other men and Mary Travis were standing stock-still by the time he and Josiah arrived in the dark alley. Pushing through the frozen figures, Nathan's experienced eyes swept over the sight before him. A body, obviously dead, lay crumpled on the ground. Chris was crouched just in front of the grisly corpse holding Vin protectively. The unconscious tracker looked like he'd been painted head to toe in blood and dirt, but somehow Nathan's initial dismay at the man's appearance faded as he observed the relaxed smile touching Larabee's lips. Inexplicably, a feeling of peace swept over him. A peace he hadn't felt in what seemed like a very long time.
Most of the town had been roused by the gunfire and quickly gathered in the darkness, much like they had more than a week before. The difference being this time they realized the truth about what had been happening in Four Corners. Many quickly offered help and fortunately, Reba was stable enough that the healer felt comfortable moving her to Mrs. Potter's rooms when the storekeeper insisted on stepping in.
The trip back to the clinic had been tense, Nathan's desire to get the sharpshooter to where he could treat him warring with the need to move his friend slowly and avoid causing further injury. After he'd gotten the tracker's many injuries cleaned and restitched, all the healer could do was fight the inevitable fever and pray. It had been touch and go for several days, Vin's condition was grave and Nathan was convinced that the blood loss alone would kill the already debilitated young man.
But this time Vin fought back with a vengeance. After three agonizing days and nights, the young man's fever broke and the tracker finally drifted into a healing sleep.
As much as he would like to have taken credit for Vin's survival, Nathan wasn't foolish enough to think that the sharpshooter's tenacious hold on life could be attributed to his medical skills. He knew without a doubt that the physical contact of the man who never let go of the tracker's hand throughout the interminable, exhausting hours that turned into days was what made the difference between life and death.
The one bright spot for the exhausted healer was that because Chris had planted himself at Vin's bedside and threatened to grow roots before he moved, it meant the gunman was resting too. While the man's shoulder wound had fortunately been minor, when you added that to the emotional strain their leader had been under, rest was the best thing for him.
Four days after the more-dead-than-alive tracker had been carried into his clinic, Nathan felt warranted in announcing not only would the stubborn young man live but that his recovery was just short of miraculous!
Thereafter, Nathan's biggest problems became keeping the tracker in bed and working around all the extra bodies cluttering up his clinic. As expected, the remainder of the seven were constantly under foot, all with the best of intentions - which reminded Nathan of the old adage 'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions'. In addition to contending with their unremitting, exasperating presence, the normally unruffled man was subjected to people from all over town stopping by, bringing food and offering help and support! And of course not one soul seemed to remember behaving badly toward the young man! All things considered, Nathan began to feel like 'The road to Hell' ended in his clinic!
At first, Nathan insisted the peacekeepers remain quiet while they were in the sick room and allow Vin to rest peacefully and regain his strength. While they grudgingly complied, the healer knew that some of the men wouldn't relax until they were able to talk to the tracker - actually not so much 'talk to' as appeal for his forgiveness! As Vin became able to stay awake longer, each man approached him individually, hat in hand, to make peace with the quiet man. Each was amazed by how the young man accepted their tentative overtures with no hint of anger or recrimination. Tanner had even gone so far as to apologize to J.D. for knocking him unconscious! In fact, if they had compared notes, the often intimidating gunmen would have had to admit to feeling nearly giddy with relief at seeing only friendship shining in the candid blue eyes.
The harmony that settled over the peacekeepers marked another turning point in Vin's recovery. Tanner apparently decided that he was now 'fine" and should be allowed his freedom. After several days of fighting tooth and nail to keep the pigheaded sharpshooter in the clinic, Nathan had thrown his hands in the air and told the man "…go ahead and leave if ya want to! Ya stubborn sonofabitch - I shoulda figured out by now that ya can't kill you with a stick. Don't know why I waste my time and energy tryin' to take care of yer ungrateful ass!"
What Nathan wouldn't say was how thankful he, hell all of 'em, were to have Vin back - even in his most obstinate, contrary form.
And not only did they get Vin back, Chris had returned from his private hell too. A Chris with a new light in his eyes, a glimmer of hope that hadn't quite been there even before Alby Savitch came to Four Corners.
Yep all told, the peacekeepers were a pretty satisfied bunch.
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Leaning back, with his long legs outstretched in front of him, Tanner was blowing random notes on his ever-present mouth organ when Chris Larabee stepped up on the boardwalk beside him.
"Think you should be out here in the cold, Pard?" Larabee knew that cold was never an issue for the former bounty hunter if it came with being out in the open air. "Nathan know you're gone again?"
"Yep. Nate said me getting' some fresh air's jes' fine with him." Vin said innocently, turning his attention back to his harmonica.
"Humph, said it was 'fine', did he? Doubt that." Chris knew Vin too well to belief that blatant misrepresentation and felt a smile tug at his lips when he imagined what the healer's actual reaction had been.
Tanner chuckled softly at his friend's words, Ya gotta lotta nerve, Larabee. he thought, noting the gunman still refused to wear the sling Nathan had forced on him.
Vin stopped playing and turned his curious blue gaze on the gunman. "Heard some talk 'bout you goin' missin' while I's laid-up... er… before….. gonna tell me where ya was?"
Serious green eyes turned to the tracker as the gunslinger considered his answer - or if he even wanted to respond. Realizing that his best friend deserved to know the truth as much as he needed to accept the reality of what he'd been through, Larabee's reply was short and uncompromising as he turned back to study the activity on the dirty road, "Lost."
Tanner lifted a questioning eyebrow and studied his best friend closely, waiting for the man in black to elaborate.
Larabee settled his black hat on his blond head. After a moment, he turned and locked gazes with the sharpshooter, and reached out his right arm. Vin automatically did the same and they clasped forearms in their own unique bond. "I'm found now." Chris said softly, then he turned and strode off the porch.
Vin Tanner watched Chris walk toward the Clarion Office, a gentle smile touching his lips as he gave an almost imperceptible nod, Me too Cowboy. he whispered and returned his attention to the mouth organ in his hand.

The End

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