Meanwhile in front of the “Gentleman’s Club”—Ma Simpson realized she had trouble…BIG trouble in the form of US Marshal Big Mac McIntyre “What is he doing here? Looking for me, I’ll warrant.”
Ma had another problem to deal with, not nearly as serious, but still that problem was affecting her business—while it’s true that cattle-ranching was almost non-existent in this part of the North-West Territories—wheat farming was far more common—there were a few cattle operations around Outlook, and that provided slim-pickens for rustlers—rustling wheat was simply too much work; but she had competition. Competition from Samuel Arthur Delonga, a failed Wyoming rustler and his bunch.
As she was mulling this over—her missing foreman arrived with two dangerous-looking women—fortunately, she didn’t recognise either one.
Season 8—Chapter 9—Outlook—Episode 3:
In front of the “Gentleman’s Club”—Ma Simpson dismissed Barstow… Who quickly went inside to test his luck with the “ladies,” she’d deal with him later.
She looked at the two; tough, confident looking, women and certainly not children—these two looked quite formidable. Almost too formidable, which made her a little apprehensive as she didn’t need competition.
“I hear you might be looking for help,” Blackmon said, “Seems to me there isn’t much work around here to do; there is simply too few cattle to rustle—it isn’t worth dying for.”
“You get right to the point, I like that,” Ma replied, “No, there isn’t and that’s not what I need help with.”
“Then why was Barstow looking for guns?” Shouse asked, “Seems to me you don’t need the the help at all.”
“Before I say any more, how can I know I can trust you?”
“You’re still breathing,” Chris answered.
About the same time—at the Queen’s Pub… Big Mac bought an ale and moved within earshot of Jay & Sarah, who were engaged in a conversation with three Americans:
“Well, I reckon Mr. Delonga might be interested in hiring you, but the little lady…”
“Oh no—you didn’t go there,” Jay thought, “You’re about to get schooled.”
Speaking very quietly and in her West Virginia lilt, “A stick of dynamite ain’t all that big, sonny, and you ain’t all that smart, are you?”
His eyes widened as Sarah drew-back her duster revealing the Remington .44 at her side, and lightly placed her hand on the gun-butt, “In the hills of West Virginia men know better than to mess with the womenfolk, ’cause we can make their life miserable…or short.”
To be Continued…