“Oh…I did it alright.”

Previously:

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 a couple 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.”

“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.”

Season 8—Chapter 9—Outlook—Episode 4:

Continuing our story—at the Queen’s Pub… Big Mac figured now would be a good time to join the conversation, “Pardon me, ma’am, and I don’t mean to butt-in, but the same is true in Alabama, where I hail from, cowboy. Ma’am? It might not be a good idea to kill this fool just for being stupid. Name’s McIntyre, at your service.”

“Pleased to meet you Mister McIntyre, but I didn’t need any help.”

“No, ma’am, you sure didn’t. I was helping him—stay alive—for what that’s worth.”

“Aw…please don’t kill him,” the one-eyed cowboy standing next to the now-petrified fellow said, “I know he ain’t too bright, but he’s my only brother.”

“I heard rumors that there’s some work here for gun-handlers,” Mac said, “Any truth to it?”

Eyepatch looked Mac over for a second, “Could be. You have experience?”

“You need to ask?”

Eyepatch and his friends walked over to the bar and spoke briefly with one of the men there and the man started walking over, sizing-up the strangers.

“Hello, name’s Samuel Arthur Delonga, I hear you’re looking for work?”

“Hello, name’s Samuel Arthur Delonga, I hear you’re looking for work?”

“Could be,” Jay replied, “If the price is right.”

And at the Gentlemen’s Club—Susie and Chris confronted Ma Simpson… “We’ve been looking around, there isn’t enough cattle within a hundred miles of here to make rustling a paying operation.”

“You’re right, there isn’t. This area is filled with small wheat farmers, and wheat is where the money is. I need to convince the farmers that it is in their best interest to sell-out to me.”

“And you want us to help you convince them?” Susie asked.

“Maybe, but I have another job that needs to be done first.”

“And what would that job be?”

“Kill a United States Marshal.”

“Kill a United States Marshal.”

“A US Marshal? They have no authority here.”

“This one does. He’s coming after me.”

“For something you didn’t do, no doubt,” Chris grinned.

“Oh…I did it alright.”

To be Continued…