Chapter 3 - City of 10,000 Guns

[jemmus]

William observes the situation and spots that one of the two big bouncers inside the front take note men, the surly expressions on their faces, and their attention to his table. The man watches, but doesn't alert his colleague as yet.

DT approaches the men and comments on the judges' poor performance, but the honesty in their judging. He proffers his hand for a shake with the weather-worn wrangler. The man looks at him, appraising.

Paladin cocks his pistol, rises, and heads toward the door. Gideon starts to do the same, but nonchalantly takes some time to hitch up his pants and adjust the angle of his hat on his head to a more dashing and rakish angle. William gets the impression that he's covering Paladin and doesn't want two backs to the unfriendly table at the same time.

The man stands and shakes DT's hand. He says in the slow, quiet way of proud range men, lips hardly moving, Chester Fain. That was some good shootin ya did, sir. The judges may have gueed up some thangs, but I reckon they did thar best and fixed thangs up in the end. The men at the table relax, except for man who introduced the bottle of whiskey going around. It seems that he's not more than a couple of shots away from slurring his speech. He's got a resentful, mean drunk look on his face. He stands as if he's going to follow after Paladin. Gideon sees the big bouncer at the door make a show of taking his hat off, snapping it as if to get an unwanted dent or crease out of the crown, put it back on his head, and pointedly look at the man. The fellow gawks for a moment, then decides to sit down.

Gideon, DT and William follow Paladin out of the saloon and mount their strong horses. The ride west out of town on the road and line of telegraph poles to Fredericksburg that the Waco & Northwest Railroad's rail line in construction generally follows. Having heard William's and Gideon's accounts of the encounter with Comanches in the area, they keep a sharp eye out in all directions. But a quarter hour or so before dark, they start to hear the dull thudding of an inexorable steam piledriver, and before they arrive at the railroad construction camp. The day-jobber Larry is doing watchman duties, slowly walking around the camp with his revolving cylinder rifle leaned on his shoulder. Andreas quietly emerges from an unexpected direction, raises a hand, and nods his greeting to the men.

[Grognardsw]

Riding out of town, Paladin said: “Good talking there DT. This rifle can draw the wrong kind of attention.”

Well beyond Austin he drew the prize rifle from the horse sling.

Paladin hefted the engraved prize rifle. It was a 9-shot magazine version, but is still a little heavier to than a factory production 15-shot model. And that's unloaded. Paladin cocked the prize rifle with its lever. The action of the handcrafted piece is noticeably different than that of a factory production Winchester. The motion was smooth and fluid, like the proverbial "greased fat through a goose." And the spring behind the firing pin was not as hard. Maybe fine tuned to require just as much force as is needed to eject the spent round, cock the hammer, and feed a fresh round into the chamber. He wondered how the mechanism would hold up under the rigors of use in the field and on the trail. Precision mechanisms prone to fouling by dust, gunpowder smoke residue, or lubrication oil churned into black grease? Gentle spring getting soft and needing frequent replacement?

He raised the firearm to his eye and aimed at a distant tree branch silhouetted by moon light. The rifle's muzzle end seemed comparatively light, so holding a front sight bead steady inside the V of the rear side seemed easier. Maybe that explained the heavier heft of the rifle. Perhaps the butt end had been weighted to take some of the load off of the weaker arm holding the forestock and keeping the barrel steady? In any event, it seemed a fine firearm. Like the excellent standard Winchester lever action rifle, but crafted to way a shooter and gunsmith would take the time to hone one up according to his ideas and ideal, if he had the time.

Paladin let off a shot.Fancy rifle shot [1d20]=8 The branch broke off.

“Not bad.”



Making small talk along the ride to the rail camp, since DT would be visiting the Marshall tomorrow, Paladin mentioned that he had made an overture previously to the Marshall.

“Thank you Marshall,” said Paladin, taking the notice for Sam Bass.

“Their relationship with other rustlers, up to that Harry Adler who is moving them, was helpful in gathering evidence. I suspect the murderer rustlers your looking for have interacted with them. My guess would be there are ties to that King Fisher fellow too. That letter I found, which you now have, should hopefully lead to some arrests.”

“Captain, I know the Rangers are stretched thin. If you’re looking for paid help to take down the stage robber gang, or the horse rustler operation, I may be able to help.”

Reaching the rail camp, Paladin greeted Andreas.

“Andreas! How are you?”

[Thumper]

DT:

I’ll thank ya and return the complement. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Chester. Darwin Crockett….Medical Doctor. Ya, I’m in agreement with ya. Perhaps I’ll see ya around. Y’all have a great evening.

He tips his hat and walks out.

On the ride out to camp:

I thought the fort towns were rough. This place may not be as bad as Fort Worth, but it is worse than any fort town I’ve seen. At least there, the locals didn’t prey on each other and ranch hands were all locals. Drunk soldiers or saddle bums was as bad as they got. Their troubles were most often external…the common threat of bandits, banditos, cross border rustlers, Buffalo hunters, and the natives. I honestly can’t believe Austin is a state capital.

By the way. Did anybody ever hear how the altercation between the hot-headed Buffalo hunter and the mouthy cow puncher resolved?

—————-

And later to William and Gideon:
I was assigned the former foreman’s tent to bunk down in. Might have to rearrange his furniture, but should be room enough for you bed down in there.

Paladin, what are your priorities for watch assignments tonight? The bait tent, the locomotive, or the pile-driver? If we can keep an eye on all 3 from inside the tent, we’d be able to covertly wake reinforcements should something suspicious kick off.

Responding to Paladin’s small talk:
You certainly know more of the situation. But it sure makes sense that these crimes are related. The Deputy Marshal, Dorner, was interested in recruiting me as I have field experience, formal med school and training, and can ride. But it’s a multi-week paperwork process for formal deputation. Plus, I gather actual deputies have a lot of commitments to boss’ priorities and agenda, and a lot of paperwork. Doesnt sound like a flexible work environment. Hence my “Special Deputation” idea. But that’s just a wild thought…worth exploring.

I wonder if the Texas State Police Rangers have more autonomy. Seems like the ones I’ve riden with out on the prairie and desert seemed to think for themselves. With the talents of this group, I think we’d make a good law enforcement investigative team. But I don’t want to be told how to spend my days.

We could always set our group up as a private investigative company. Like the Pinkertons, and like what you’ve done with this railroad job. Maybe Wells Fargo would pay for that service…more than the reward.

Think on that.

[cybersavant]

Riding out of town, Paladin said:
Reaching the rail camp, Paladin greeted Andreas.
“Andreas! How are you?”

Andreas Richter

"Vhell-fed. How vhaz your contest?""

[Grognardsw]

“Good, I hope the workers had a veritable feast,” Paladin replied to Andreas. He was glad to hear that there was no trouble at the rail camp. “How about you William?”

“The shooting contest went well. I won a rifle and some cash.”

DT asked: “By the way. Did anybody ever hear how the altercation between the hot-headed Buffalo hunter and the mouthy cow puncher resolved?

“No, I never heard what happened with them.”

Paladin, what are your priorities for watch assignments tonight? The bait tent, the locomotive, or the pile-driver? If we can keep an eye on all 3 from inside the tent, we’d be able to covertly wake reinforcements should something suspicious kick off...

...We could always set our group up as a private investigative company. Like the Pinkertons, and like what you’ve done with this railroad job. Maybe Wells Fargo would pay for that service…more than the reward.

“Sure if we can move the lure tent near the pile driver and steam engine, and take watch turns monitoring them. The regular camp guards are on duty, more for Comanche threats. Moe and Curley will be also watching equipment and patrolling too.”

Talking over plans, Paladin shared with Andreas and Gideon: “Hopefully this job will be over in another day and our weekend will be free. We were talking over next jobs and DT suggested trying to secure special deputizations, which will give us income, authority and freedom to purse jobs that have rewards. Like the horse rustlers and stage robbers. What do you think?”

“On your idea DT about starting our own investigation company, that is intriguing. I’ll have to noodle over that one. What do other folks think?”

Paladin checked in with the foreman Mr. Behrens. “We’ll have your camp guards continue their usual rotation, with Larry replacing the departed Dickens. My men will watch the equipment, but hopefully there won’t be anymore problems.”

Next Paladin checked in with Moe and Curley. “You two take turns watching the pile driver and steam engine tonight.”

How much was five beers and dinner from the saloon?

[jemmus]

The beer was 5 cents per mug and the meal was 30 cents, so 55 cents total for Paladin. The same prices apply for the other PCs at the saloon. DT might have had a simpler dinner I think. If so, it was 25 cents.

[Thumper]

But a good batch of brisket and creamy potato salad can be a fine Texan meal…if the BBQ sauce is good! I’ll deduct .30 cents.

If we put William and Gideon in my, er, Smith’s old tent, we could covertly keep an eye on this side of the locomotive and pile-driver from one side of the tent and your bait tent from the other. And the guy on watch in the tent could wake the other tent-dwellers covertly should something suspicious arise. If ya move the bait tent to near the pile-driver, we would only have one axis on which to keep watch. But I’m not sure that really matters. Perhaps your roaming guards should circle the south side of the tracks as well. I’m guessing any threats will come up the gully.

DT would water and brush his horse then stake Ajax on approximately an eight-foot lead lead at the side of his tent. The lead would be long enough to permit slight graze range, and also a full stand/sleep posture. He’ll put his tack and all his gear in his tent.

He’ll intend to spend a little more time catching up with Doos, roam the camp seeing if there is any further medical attention needed. He’ll want Doos’, Gideon’s, William’s, and Andreas’ thoughts on possibly pursuing a U.S. Marshal or TX Ranger law enforcement credentials. Then hit his cot early so as to catch the third watch of the night.

Medical observation 15: [1d20]=17

Probably sees nothing unless a condition is obvious Warranting a bonus.

If Paladin moves the bait, he’d assist with that.

In the tent, he’ll move furniture to the corners to provide a look through the corners of his tent from behind solid furniture (a cover and sniping platform from the furniture and concealment by observing outside through small gaps he’s create in the overlapping flaps in the tent corners…the small gaps oriented towards the targets areas).if William and Gideon bunk in his tent, he’ll make sure they divide up watch #1 and #2.

[redwarrior]

“How about you William?”



William replies
Well, I didn't shoot nearly as well as Paladin here did, that's for sure. But I broke just about even, so I can't complain.

[jemmus]

Gideon says, Well, since ya ast, ah'd saybest to steer clear a them U.S. Marshals and thar badges. Texas people generally ain't especially fond of em. They figure Texas was once a independent country standin on its own two feet, and sure, it got whupped in the War. But it run its own business, it don't need no interference from no government in Warshington. That's the ones who actually think about things like that. Most are jist plain ornery and suspicious of anybody who might try ta tell em what ta do. Ya see, they want to live with them callin thar own shots, but then they complain around the cracker barrel about the lawmen ain't doin this er that ta protect public safety, defend hard-earned property, and so on. He turns his head and launches a parabolic stream of tobacco juice into the grass.

Anyway, if we're going west out into the countryside-- which is lookin likely-- some a us got some built-in drawbacks ta overcome. He nods to William, Paladin and Doos. Outside accents. Fancy vocabulary. City manners. Basic education. That kind a thang will make ya stick out like a sore thumb where them skunks are operatin. If ya open yer mouth, that is.


The cook lays a beef brisket on a board and massages salt and pepper and a secret special dry rub into the front and fatty back cap. He carefully folds the slab of beef into a white towel, then into another, and lays it into a cool place. We'll get the charcoal goin at 7:00 Then put it on at 8:00. Ought to be ready by 6:00 PM. If not, everybody can just wait.

William, Paladin, Doos, DT and Gideon spend the night taking spells observing the the camp, the steam engine, the piledriver, and the workers' tents. All is peaceful. Curly drifted off during Andreas's watch, but everything was quiet at the time anyway. The night at the camp passes, and the workers in their tents digest, dream and saw long and contented logs.

[cybersavant]

Talking over plans, Paladin shared with Andreas and Gideon: “Hopefully this job will be over in another day and our weekend will be free. We were talking over next jobs and DT suggested trying to secure special deputizations, which will give us income, authority and freedom to purse jobs that have rewards. Like the horse rustlers and stage robbers. What do you think?”

“On your idea DT about starting our own investigation company, that is intriguing. I’ll have to noodle over that one. What do other folks think?”

Andreas Larson "I vhas scout for der Army. Not sure how deputizations verk. I like small contracts like dis vhun."

[Thumper]

DT responds to Gideon:

I understand that concern with the Federal Marshals. And I was worrying about those obvious New Englanders going out into the brush. I think Doos, and maybe Paladin, could fit in with a little effort. Now William…that’s gonna take a lotta work. I’d appreciate it if you and Andreas could tell them the way things go around on the Frontier. This is your and Andreas’ territory after all. Help ‘em look and act a little more like they belong ‘round here. Dress ‘em up teach ‘em some manners!

I was actually wondering if their Yankee-ness didn’t contribute to some of their trouble with local town Marshals. But that doesn’t explain the trouble you had. If we can’t get the help of local law, then I at least don’t want them interfering with what we’re doin’.

What are your thoughts with some of us joining up with the Texas Rangers? If they’ll take us. Would we have the autonomy needed?

[Grognardsw]

Oops, I meant to say “What about you Doos?” as we hadn’t heard from the judge about options for our next job.

“How about you William?”



William replies
Well, I didn't shoot nearly as well as Paladin here did, that's for sure. But I broke just about even, so I can't complain.

[jemmus]

Behrens replies to Paladin, Sounds good. We'll see what happens with Dickens gone. Interesting how the accidents and mishaps stopped when y'all showed up and started keeping watch through the night.

DT looks around anyone who might be in need of medical attention. He sees plenty of tired men who could use some rest, a bath, and some spiritual or familial comfort. But none with a condition that can be treated with the immediate practice of the art and science of medicine.

After an uneventful night at the camp, the Sun rises and it's another clear day in central Texas. The piledriver continues is relentless thumping, and the ground under shoes and boot trembles. Five hundred yards away, a herd of a half dozen mule deer inquisitively peer at the camp and source of the incessant unnatural noise.


Gao leaves the cook tent to gather kindling for the stove. He spots Paladin and comes over. Sir, you tell railroad they send my pay! The Chinese men seem assuaged by the better fare and treatment. I no peel 300 crabapples again until pay! But they are all but certain that Dickens was the saboteur. I have wife and children, they need money! And they believe that Chen was scapegoated because he's Chinese. And they resent that Dickens was allowed to just ride away. You go back Austin and tell railroad now! You have your man, my work here is done. Please ask Mr. Cummins to send a train for me poste haste. Railroad no pay, contract end, I go!

The cook's assistant calls from the tent, Gao! Quit yer belly-achin to that railroad man and git the kindlin! Chop chop! This time Gao is too much of a professional to give Paladin the withering look that it seems like he'd like to. Instead he gives a cold, snooty like that makes something clear-- if it comes to it, Gao may not be a friend or an ally. And it seems that the man might know a thing or two about alliances. And intricacies of their inner movements.

Before long the smell of biscuits, bacon, coffee and milk gravy waft through the air. The workers file through the cook tent with their tin dishes and cups in hand and carry them back to their tents. Some instead sit on stacked rails or stumps and dine under morning the sky. Before long Behrens is meeting with the crew foremen and assigning each crew's tasks for the day. This one, two men to be firemen for the steam engine driving the piledriver. The rest to haul first bridge piles, then cross timbers, beams and planks to this side of the gully. That one, to haul stone ballast bedding to the end of the track on the other side of the gully. The third, to clear and level ground ahead of the rail end with saws, axes, picks, shovels and crowbars. The last, to construct the bridge. Gentlemen, he says, today's goals is to finish spanning that gully before nightfall. No matter what. We do that, tomorrow we lay rails on it and join the rails on this side with those on the other. Then the locomotive can do the heavy hauling, instead a the men's backs. The foremen nod, collect and brief their crews, and the men set off to start the day's long work.

Behrens spots Paladin and the others and comes up. Mr. Paladin, I got two jobs today needin supervision by an engineer: constructing the bridge, and grading the bed for the next sections a rails. Used to Marlon Smith and me could divide up the work. But we only have one engineer on site now. If you're goin to Austin, please bring that to the railroad's attention. He pauses a minute, possibly considering the possible reactions Paladin and any others might get in response to the request. I don't know if Marlon is still on payroll or not. Either way, I'd bet the railroad has it figured that one day of running trains between towns is probably worth more than double, triple, or quadruple an engineer's daily pay. Probably a lot more than that. If I can't do both jobs at once-- no, if there's a unexpected engineering challenge causing a delay for either one job or the other-- it will mean a day, or a half day, lost. The railroad paid to send all a y'all out here to try to root around, kick some rear ends, and get things moving. I imagine they'll spend another nickel fer a engineer's pay. As hard as they are to come by out here. If you'd do what ya can, we sure would appreciate it.

He touches fingertips to brow, looks everyone in the eye, respectfully nods, and turns on his heel toward the gully and leveling operations. But stops and turns back. Oh, and I don't know about that Moe, Curly, er Larry fella. If ya would, tell Mr. Cummins... I mean, the railroad that we need another rail guard out here to replace Dickens. And another as backup. 75 cents a day, a cot, and full meals for him. Everybody says, We're layin line into robbers land. And Comanches are coming.

[Thumper]

DT intends to have breakfast after the rail workers get their fill. He grabs his Sharps .56 Carbine and tries to sneak within shooting distance of the herd…and fails:

Stealth 13: [1d20]=16

He had intended to hunt a young buck and hang it from a tree limb near camp to for cookie to butcher in a day or two. Venison steaks for the men would have been a welcome treat for getting the gully span done. Oh well.

Instead he’ll help pack up and ready to head back to town after grabbing a bite of breakfast.

[Grognardsw]

Thursday night...

Paladin listened to Gideon’s comments about sticking out in the Texas countryside. Paladin smiled and looked at his all black clothes and hat.

“I admit this isn’t typical garb, but I wear it for a reason. Often I want to make an impression. For some its memorable. People sometimes underestimate me based on mistaken first impressions. That can give a strategic advantage. For others though, it can lead to preconceived prejudices like you said. Soon enough, they realize the truth. I live with it.”

A night breeze blew across the camp. Paladin put his jacket on. “Well my jacket here is brown, my other shirt midnight blue,” he said with a laugh. “Back in San Francisco my wardrobe is more varied.”



“As for my speech, Gideon, I can work on Texafying my talk, pardner.”

Paladin ate the beef brisket dinner. "Mr. Gao, I'll be asking Mr. Cummins to release you tomorrow."

“DT, why don’t you see if the special deputations are possible. We could use the badge when we need to. We won’t be wearing uniforms, no one will know until we need them to know, so we can avoid getting folks riled up. If that doesn’t work, sure see about the Texas Rangers.”

“I’ll be going in early tomorrow for my 8:00 am with Mr. Cummins. Afterwards I’ll check with Wells Fargo like we talked about.”

Friday Morning...

Paladin was up early to hear Mr. Gao' s harangue. "I'll tell Mr. Cummins about Chen, and get you out of here."

Responding to Mr. Behrens: "I agree that Mr. Cummins will want that second engineer out here post-haste. For today, Larry, Moe and Curley will remain for guarding. I'll ask for a permanent replacement for Dickens if you think Larry isn't up to snuff."

Paladin mounted Copper to head into Austin for the meeting with Mr. Cummins. He told his friends, "any of you are welcome to stay in camp for pay, if you do watch the equipment and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. This is probably our last day. Or you can be done and go into Austin. I'll be back here by lunch time to finish things out. Tomorrow I'll be at the Drover Hotel. How about we have breakfast there then? DT are you heading into Austin now to inquire with the marshall and rangers?"

[cybersavant]

Andreas Larson "I vhill vhatch today und tonight."

[ateno]

"Welcome back folks! Nice to see you. Been quiet. I suppose I could see a lawyer in your investigation company, I'm interested.

Eating some more.

"Going to be off duty a hour or so after dark, gonna meet some friends and chat and drink a bit, like we talked about a couple days ago."

Doos

[Thumper]

“DT, why don’t you see if the special deputations are possible. We could use the badge when we need to. We won’t be wearing uniforms, no one will know until we need them to know, so we can avoid getting folks riled up. If that doesn’t work, sure see about the Texas Rangers.”

I would think that whatever course presents itself to us, this will be an undercover operation. There’s no chance of a bunch of badges flushing out the murderers just because they rode into town and started flashing tin or even silver. Perhaps there’s a couple of ways we some can use outsider status positively. The murderous jackals have a need to turn stolen goods into cash…and the stolen horses are being moved. Two potential angles. Easterners out “exploring” the frontier and willing to buy up cheap goods ought to draw out anybody with a grudge against obvious Northerners. I was also thinking about something I saw in the paper that the Postal Service needs couriers now that the stage runs have been suspended. A possible Avenue there to credibly explain why outsiders are out in the sticks. Possibilities to kick around.

Andreas, did I hear you say you’re from Fredericksburg? A true local…

I’ll ride into town and make the inquiries and see what specific info we can gather from the US Marshal and TX Rangers. I’d like to meet you over at the Wells Fargo office. I want to plot the stage attacks and your horse rustler’s corral on maps. Those will probably be a bit of money to acquire, though. Is anybody in our group good with maps?

Bill (not William), you still goin’ with?

As he’s packing his belongings, DT will look through the bucket of maps in Smith’s tent. If there’s a map of the terrain between Austin and Fredericksburg or the Burnet area, he’ll give it to Paladin and ask him to requisition it/them.

[Grognardsw]

“That sounds like a plan DT,” said Paladin.

“Doos, do you think any of your legal expertise can help in our convincing the marshall or rangers of our case?”

[ateno]

“Doos, do you think any of your legal expertise can help in our convincing the marshall or rangers of our case?”

"Your experience as a army officer and a army lawyer should help, I would have to look at law books for precedents, but I think we have a good case with that. You take the lead as the talker and impress them like your talking to superiors. Like you already work for them."

Doos