Previously: “Yep,” Merle couldn’t help but notice the two men’s physique—and hoped to avoid a brawl, “We heard about this place in Grand Marais.”
“Good or bad?”
“All good—a place with opportunities.”
“Opportunities for a hired gun,” Edward Slater replied, “But not for women dressed like that, women need to dress like women.”
Merle thought, “Oh no—you’re not going there…”
Before he finished his thought—four Remington .44s were pointed at the two unfortunate men—in less than an eye-blink both Chris and Linda drew-down on them.
Adventure Ten—Searching for Almonzo—Episode 4… The first to recover from the shock and awe factor was Edward Slater, “Dang ladies, m’brother Miles an’ me meant no harm. You can put them shootin’ arns away.”
Linda looked both brothers up and down, slowly, deliberately, and then turned to Chris, “They look pretty harmless to me, just not real smart.”
“Agreed—but we probably should just plug’em now and put them out of their misery.”
“Mebbe you’re right.”
“Hold-on ladies,” Merle frowned, “It is not polite to gun-down fellas with their hands-up. Besides, maybe they’d consider hiring us?”
“Why would we care about being polite?” Linda replied.
“Who are you calling a lady?” Chris grinned at Merle, “Okay Eddie, you want our guns—or not?”
“We don’t do the hirin’,” Miles Slater replied, “You folks will have to talk to the boss—he’s inside.”
“Now that’s better Mr. Slater,” Linda holstered her guns, “Take us to your leader.”
“Aw geeze, Linda, isn’t that just a little worn-out.”
“Hey—it was in the script.”
They went into the saloon and were unable to find Slater, “Where’s the boss?”
“He said he had business in Danger Bay.”
“Without us?” Miles asked.
“He saw you were busy outside, you’re to meet him there.”
“Thanks, Amos,” he replied, “Whaddya think, Eddie, should we hire these three—or kill them.”
“You’re hired,” Edward made that decision as if his life depended on it, as he saw both Linda and Chris each with their hands hovering near their holsters.
MEANWHILE—in Moosehead City… “Tell me again why we’re here.”
“I didn’t know what we’d find,” Mac replied, “This is the closest town to Forest City.
“There doesn’t seem to be any sign of Slater’s influence here—but then again we didn’t check Ma Simpson’s.”
“Perhaps we should.”
“I wonder where the marshal of this fair town might be.”
“He is me—still,” Mac laughed, “By my calculations we were here last—a day ago.”
Before they could leave two men wearing marshal’s badges walked into the office, “Sorry we’re late Marshal, the train from Fort Leavenworth broke down in Iowa. Name’s McIntyre, Karl McIntyre, and this fella is my deputy, Lawrence Yatkowsky.”
Boomer looked at both with a rapidly dropping jaw, Mac leaned close and whispered, “My great-grandfather McIntyre, I think.”
To be continued…