Chapter 2 - Cash Dollars on the Hoof

[ateno]

Sorry I read to fast and thought you were going to pm me if I should roll observation.



Made it by 3

[jemmus]

Thanks! Need one more observation roll for Doos. Need Sebastian's 2 observation rolls.

[jemmus]

Sebastian

Sebastian: Observation (10) [1d20]=18 [1d20]=1

Is going to stay outside the cabin and as the others enter trot around the cabin rear to check out the back door and field behind the house. If he can't access that, he will go check out the dilapidated barn

Sebastian trots around the side of the house to the back. He sees the unsaddled horse he briefly saw earlier, and two more, between the house and the barn with the partially caved in roof. All three are hobbled and grazing on short grass behind the house. He sees a back door to the house, which is open. It leads to a small kitchen. Beyond the kitchen, Sebastian can see four boys or young men standing in what appears to be the little house's living room. One boy, the shortest one, is holding a lever action rifle. The front door opens and the deputy walks in, followed by the other members of the posse.

PM sent for the Observation rolls.

[jemmus]

The tall, broad-shouldered deputy holds his Winchester with the barrel lowered and strides toward the delapidated house's open front door. Bedraggled Wiley standing with his shotgun seems confounded and indecisive-- for too long. The big lawman marches past him and into the house. Paladin and the other riders follow, except for Sebastian, who circles to the back of the house. Will Moore follows Gideon McLaury and stays a little behind him. Andreas enters the front door last and takes a position near it.

Inside the door is a small living room. It's lit by the ample June sunlight coming through open windows with thin old off-white curtains hanging limp in the still, hot air. Taking up the left side of the room is a homemade table with three chairs, two wood crates, and an oak log standing around it. It sits on a woven rug that is both so saturated with prairie dust to be leaking it onto the floor, while at the same time has grimy layers of new and old food stains.

The right side of the room is a jumble of various kinds of necessary, useful, or maybe forgotten things. It's like a combined tool shed and storage room. An rawhide deer hide stretched and tacked on a wall. Nails, screws, bolts, and nuts in a pasteboard box. Old newspapers. The antlers of several mule deer. An old Sears & Roebuck catalog. A horse collar for plowing. Exceptionally long or impressive longhorn cattle horns. A partial bridle in need of a replacement strap and steel ring. An ax head with the split stub of a handle still in it. A section of a sheet of corrugated galvanized iron. A full, heavy spool of thick copper wire-- looking suspiciously like expensive telegraph wire. Iron horseshoes. A short stack of tar shingles. Et cetera.

Behind, there's an open doorframe showing a kitchen with a potbellied stove with unwashed dining implements lying on its top. Which might be the source of the fairly putrid smell in the house. Very healthy and contented-seeming flies buzz and fly irregular looping paths and figure-eights around the kitchen. Two open doors reveal two rooms with rusting bedframes with bare cotton mattresses-- apparently once quite white-- with jumbled blankets lying on them.

Two boys who bear a resemblance to the man Wiley, one around 19 and the other around maybe 17 stand with four boys who seem to be a little older. The older of the two apparent brothers has an old Henry lever action repeating rifle insolently laid across his shoulder. He wears a gun belt with a long-barreled, oaken-grip Navy Colt 1851 in the holster. He's shorter than the other members of his cohort, but he stands in front of them as the apparent leader. All six boys have revolvers either stuck through their belts or tucked into their pants.

Deputy, that's my gun and gun belt! McLaury yells. He points at the Navy Colt. And that boy's wearin ma boots! He indicates the taller but younger brother. Them's the..... The big deputy sheriff cuts the smaller man off and says, hard under his breath, Mr. McLaury, I already ast ya once to hold yer comments fer the time bein. Don't make me say it agin. The tall man with his big square shoulders rises to his full height and stares down at the former jailbird. The smaller man shrinks back.

The deputy looks around the room and through the doorways. Mr. Wiley, I'd appreciate it if you'd lay that shotgun on the floor and come on in and join yer boys in the room. Yer their dad, and they might they might benefit from yer guidance. The bearded man in need of a haircut and some laundry service blows a psshaw and shakes his head. But he leans the shotgun against the weathered gray wood of the outside wall of the house. The posse members note that he doesn't lay it on the floor as requested. Out of pride, plain orneriness, or according to some plan or strategem known only to his own mind-- it's hard to tell. He comes into the room, single action pistol stuck through his worn brown belt, and takes a place behind the six boys, at their center.

The big deputy steps forward toward the rifle-wielding boy and towers over him for a second. Then says, in a flat, stern voice, Young Mr. Wiley, you must be Luke. And that thar is yer brother Clyde. Both of ya caught doin various forms of mischief around the town of San Marcos since ya were yay high. He raises a hand to belt level. But we didn't come here today to talk about that. We come to ask ya about any knowledge ya might have about some horse theft. Which happened last night, while ye boys were in town. We just want to know if ya seen anything, or might have any infermation to share. Young eyes and ears are sharp.

Now, as y'all boys know, horse theft is a serious offense. A hangin offense. Right there alongside murder and... violent crimes against women. Somebody sawed a hasp lock off of the stable in San Marcos and stole quite a few horses from it last night. Folks are guessin that somebody happened to hear that the sheriff was shot and laid up, and that gave somebody the boldness to try a little horse thievery. We can't just let that go, we got to find out who did it and bring em to justice.

The lined up boys exchange glances with each other. Their leader squares up to the big deputy and looks him in the eye. We didn't see nothin, Mr. Deputy, I swear. We was back here by nightfall. The young fellow impudently shifts the rifle on his shoulder, striking a tough guy pose.

The deputy answers, Hmm. Ya'll was seen in town a little before dusk, so that must have been some fast ridin San Marcos to Stringtown. He looks down at the boys' feet. They're all wearing regular farm shoes-- except for the younger Wiley brother. He's wearing black boots with square toes. The deputy continues. Well, an odd thing is that an unusual track was found in some horse droppins in front of the stable's doors. Made by a boot with squared-off toes. Wellington boots, I believe they're called. They're not at all common in this part of Texas. But yer wearing a pair of em, Clyde Wiley. The boy stares forward and swallows hard. Now ya can speak, Mr. McLaury.

The exciteable man doesn't hesitate. Like I said, deputy, them's my boots! I bought em in Waco when I was at the peak of my cards game. Top quality and shipped from back East, but marked down in price because them square toes weren't sellin them too quick. These are the same six boys that robbed me on the road, deputy! I'm sure of it! They was wearin kerchiefs over their faces, but I'll never forgit the scoundrel's voices! And I just heard one of them comin out of that lil peckerwood! He indicates the lead boy with the rifle.

Mr. Wiley says, Just because Clyde may have stepped in some horse sh*t don't mean these boys stole no horses. That ain't no proof of nothin. People step in horse sh*t all around Hays County ever day. Deputy, I know you run with that bastart sheriff and that scalawag judge, but I didn't take you to be one to try to pin a hangin crime on 16 or 17 year ole boy. With no proof of nothin! Even I know ye got have some proof for a trial. So ya ain't takin these boys nowhere, or hanging some crime on em based on-- horsesh*t. I may be dumb, but ah'm not stupid. Y'all can just go back to San Marcos, keep movin to yer next questionin, or go to hell. It don't much matter much to me which.

The boys with pistols, and one with a Henry rifle, glance at each other seem to stand a little taller.

Any actions? I jumped the action forward from outside the house to inside it. Well, the deputy kind of did that, when no shooting started. But of course, every single person inside and outside of the house is bearing a firearm.

And we need two more Observation rolls for each PC.

[redwarrior]

William, standing by Gideon, takes a step away from him toward the wall with the shotgun, and keeps a casual eye on the shotgun leaning against the wall. If action breaks out, he'll grab the shotgun if he can, or his gun if he can't. But he's waiting for the deputy or the family to make the first move.


Observation [1d20]=12 [1d20]=19

[Rex]

Charlie

Charlie is prepared for the worst so stays by the door in case he needs to duck out or cover it from someone outside trying to get in. Carbine at the ready.

Observation (16) [1d20]=1 [1d20]=8

[cybersavant]

Andreas Larson stays by the door, alert

observation :

[ateno]

Doos watches the expressions on the young men:

[Grognardsw]

Paladin assessed the situation (Tactics) and tried to defuse the tension.

“Everyone should remain calm. We’re just talking. A gunfight here would leave many dead and solve nothing. You’ll be instant fugitives. There’s more law posse’s roaming about. The sheriff may be laid out, but the judge would have your hides come hell or high water if you draw on us.”

Paladin watched the boys’ hands as he spoke, his own hand at his side, poised for split-second reaction should a fast draw be needed.

Tactics 14 [1d20]=3, Observation 13 [1d20]=8, [1d20]=18

[Bluetongue]

Sebastian

Sebastian: Observation (10) [1d20]=1 [1d20]=16

I will ignore the posse and those who might have trigger happy tendencies. Instead I will go around the hobbled horses and check out the barn. Dismounting to go inside. Carefully in case I get jumped.

[ateno]

Doos reachs out with his left hand and grabs the handle of the hacksaw and looks closely at the teeth.

"Gentlemen, I am Judge Jonathan Doos, but I am here as a possy member. But this is what you would call evidence. I would ask you to show me your poker game?"

Doos lightly tosses the hacksaw on the new cards on the worn rug, drawing attention to them and having the cards flip around.



Doos knows hes not a gunfighter, and hopes the evidence and and talk will help them cloose to give up.

[jemmus]

Bill Moore, standing a pace behind Gideon McLaury, edges a little farther to the right to view the man's gun hand. Gideon seems tense and excitable at encountering his alleged robbers.

Both Charlie and Andreas stay by the open front door, behind the others. Both with a V-shaped field of fire covering every man and boy in the room. But with the backs of some posse members obscuring or partially in the way.

Doos sees that the hacksaw's bow and the back of its blade are rusty. But the teeth at the edge have been little scraped to bright steel. He informs the room about the evidence and the signs of a card game.

Paladin says, “Everyone should remain calm. We’re just talking. A gunfight here would leave many dead and solve nothing. You’ll be instant fugitives. There’s more law posse’s roaming about. The sheriff may be laid out, but the judge would have your hides come hell or high water if you draw on us.”

https://i.imgur.com/ZRXOyOD.png
The deputy crosses to behind the table and takes the hacksaw, coin, and cards coin. Well, this is intersting, the big man says. Mr. Wiley, I will speak to yer sons and git their own answers from em themselves, if ya don't mind. Please don't answer for em. The unkempt man just grunts and glowers.

The lawman takes a big stride forward close to the elder Wiley boy and towers over the almost full-grown kid.
You boys been cuttin metal?
Yeah, we had to cut the lock off of the toolshed. The key was lost.
Hmm. Ya keep yer toolshed locked? Lot a tools git stolen in Stringtown?
Ya never know who might steal somethin. Lot of drifters and saddle bums come through.
Ya got that lock that ya cut off?
No, Clyde threw it in Purgatory Creek.
Why'd he do that?
Just fer fun.
Hmm. Well, that's too bad, because that lock could have cleared ya of any suspicion.
We didn't do nothin.
I expect tha jury will decide on that, if it comes to it.

The deputy puts the saw on the table by the cards and quarter dollar coin.
Y'all been playin cards?
Yeah. We like playin cards. Everbody does.
What stakes?
Pennies, nickels and dimes.
Hmm. But somebody dropped a quarter dollar on the floor and forgot all about it?
The boys eyes shift left and right. Then he says, When you all come ridin up all of sudden we had to close ar game quick. Y'all could have been ranch robbers, fer all we knew.
Hmm. So, Lucas Wiley, Clyde Wiley, and you other boys, I want to ask you a question, and I want ya to give me a straight answer. If this posse searches the Wiley place out back, are they goin to find their horse on it? Think about yer answer careful. If y'all cooperate and tell the truth, and we can recover the horses, we'll just forgit all about this meetin today. Y'all are still boys. I don't expect ya to have the same level of judgment as full-grown man. But ya have to be honest. And while yer thinkin about it, remember what the penalty for the crime of stealin horses is.

The six boys look around at each other. One boy's lip begins to quiver and his legs begin to quake uncontrollably. He tries to keep a poker face and get control of his legs, but it's no use. There's a tense silence in the mid-morning heat in the Wiley house. A big black horsefly comes through the open window behind the boys and takes its time buzzing around exploring the still living room.

The elder Wiley boy looks to his dad's face The man glances over his shoulder to the shotgun leaning against the wall and shakes his head. Then resignedly nods to the son. The boy looks straight ahead toward the deputy's neck at his eye level and says, Mister, them horses is gone. They got rustled in the night.
Rustled? the deputy says. Stole, already? Who stole em?
We don't know.
Anyone ya suspect? Somebody from around here?
We don't know, mister. Mister deputy.

The deputy rubs his jaw and thinks for a moment. Admittin to the crime was the right thang to do, Lucas Wiley. The right thang to do-- and the smart thang too. The quaking boy nerves give out and breaks into sobs. Now, I'm going to ask y'all boys to do this. And do it precisely. One at a time, lay yer firearms on that table and empty yer pockets. That means turnin yer pockets inside out and showin the whole room that they're good and empty.

Mr. Judge Doos, I'll ask that you step to the back of the table and mind keepin track of the... let's call it the inventory. Mr. Paladin, please take position close by to support Mr. Doos. Mr. Moore, Mr. Andreas, Mr. Charlie, please watch these boys transfer their firearms slow and easy to the tabletop. I'll be watchin fer the same.

Bill Moore sees that Gideon McLaury has been acutely listening, attentively moving his head as each person speaks. He seems to get more nervous and agitated as things progress. Whut? Whut the hell am I hearin here? Deputy, yer just lettin em git away with it? Stealin horses and robbin regular travelers of their boots, horse, belt and money? On a Texas state road? I's the one-- the robbery victim-- who spent two days rottin in a Hays County jail fer vagrancy! And they just go free? Deputy, I thought you were a honest man. But now I see ya ain't. Yer just lack that shacked-up sheriff of yers. And it makes sense that ya brought thet city boy Mr. Blackheart ridin with ya!

Bill Moore, a pace or so behind the man and to his right, sees him cast his gaze all around the room, appraising. The long Colt in his belt is cocked, as is his elbow. Finally, the man in oversized shoes turns to him. Don't think I don't know you've been watchin behind me, mister. He glares. Whut do ya want? You in with the deputy, Blackheart, and the sheriff and the judge? He's breathing hard and his eyes are wide with rage. He closes his gun hand into a fist and opens it again. As if flexing and loosening his fingers for quick action. Lucas Wiley, who had started toward the table, stops. The sobs of the terrified and broken-down boy get all the louder.

Actions? Sebastian has gotten a little ahead of the rest of the PCs in time, so we'll pause that thread for the time being.

[Rex]

Charlie

Charlie watches for any sign they are going to try something.

[cybersavant]

Andreas Larson watches both the boys and the jittery posseman.

[ateno]

"Mr. McLaury!"
"Please cooperate with the deputy, he is doing his job and your reacting before you know whats going on. Thank you boys for fessing up."

Doos collects the shotgun first before gathering the other armaments.

[Grognardsw]

Paladin's hand is poised and ready to draw against McLaury.

"McLaury, calm down. Justice isn't done yet. You draw you'll be back in jail or dead."

[redwarrior]

Bill Moore, a pace or so behind the man and to his right, sees him cast his gaze all around the room, appraising. The long Colt in his belt is cocked, as is his elbow. Finally, the man in oversized shoes turns to him. Don't think I don't know you've been watchin behind me, mister. He glares. Whut do ya want? You in with the deputy, Blackheart, and the sheriff and the judge? He's breathing hard and his eyes are wide with rage. He closes his gun hand into a fist and opens it again. As if flexing and loosening his fingers for quick action. Lucas Wiley, who had started toward the table, stops. The sobs of the terrified and broken-down boy get all the louder.

Actions? Sebastian has gotten a little ahead of the rest of the PCs in time, so we'll pause that thread for the time being.

Mr. McLaury, my goal is to get our stuff back, yours included, and prevent violence if I can. I'll leave the law to the law. Let's let the man do his job.

Continuing to be ready, but breathing a bit easier once the shotgun is secured.

[jemmus]

Mr. McLaury, the deputy sheriff says, I'll ask ya to calm down. If ya don't, I'll have to ask ya to surrender that gun for the time bein.

The fierce look stays on McLaury's face for a few seconds, but he calms down. Well, Mr. Deputy, I guess ya wasn't no general durin the war. Otherwise you'd see that disarming one of your units before a fight only works in the enemy side's favor. And ya let one of yer units wander of on his own around back. Do you know where that unit is right now, Mr. Deputy? And whut his current situation is?

The deputy replies, Just don't make any more threatenin moves, Mr. McLaury. Toward anybody in this room. Now, y'all boys one at a time leave your guns and what's in yer pockets on the table. And return to where ya are now. Lucas Wiley nervously continues to the table. He lays the rifle and Navy Colt pistol on it. He hesitates. Then empties both pockets and turns them inside out, as instructed. He leaves a 10 dollar bill, a five, some silver dollars, quite a few quarters, just a few pennies, nickels, and dimes. Mr. Wiley stands stock still. The returns to his place. The other boys follow suit, laying pistols, bills, and coins on the table.

The deputy says, Well. Y'all boys was carryin around a good amount a cash, weren't ya? I ain't counted it yet but I reckon thar's over a hundred dollars on the table. How did y'all boys come across all the money?
Doin odd jobs for neighbors, Lucas answers.
Odd jobs. Like what?
Diggin wells, fixin fences, mowin and pitchin hay. Anythang like that.
Hmm. Well, if that's right, I imagine that yer farmer-rancher neighbors in Stringtown a purty well-off. And they ain't got no boys of thar own fer that work. Lucas Wiley, you and yer friend got off to good start with yer honesty. Yer gonna have to continue with that.
Lucas looks at the floor. Either out of contrition, or while weighing the sides of a heavy decision. We sold them horses, Mr. Deputy.
Thar ya go. That's another crime, as serious as the first one. But at least yer bein honest. Who'd ya sell em to?
We don't know who they were, Mr. Deputy. Somebody who knows.... He seems to be piecing together how make the sentence. Somebody, who somebody we know-- knows.
How many of them was thar? What did they look like?
There was three of em who come up to light. More on horses behind em in the dark. Maybe four, six. We couldn't see their faces, they had cowboy kerchiefs pulled up over em.
Ah see. Well then, who's that somebody who interduced ya to em?

The boy looks down again and is silent.
Lucas Wiley, I asked ya a question.
Silence.
The Wiley boys' dad speaks up. Deputy... I forgit your last name but I remember yer first name, because it's the same. Deputy Sheriff Harold, whut yer askin that boy to say is puttin death sentence on all of em. Surer than puttin em in yer San Marcos court with ropes already around thar necks. So I'll say the name for these boys. I don't expect no protection from the Hays County sheriff's office. But I'll ast that ya give yer good word to the man that these dint squeal on im. Do ah have your honest word on that, Deputy Mr. Harold?
The big man nods and touches the brim of his hat. I give ya my word, Mr. Wiley. To the best of mah ability. The shaggy-headed man nods and touches the brim of his hat as well. The man is Harvey Adler. I don't know if ya know him or not. He got a place near Comaltown. Not a big place. Maybe three, four hundred head a cattle.
Comaltown. That's across the county line in Comal County.
Yessir, it sure is.

The Hays County deputy sheriff ponders for a bit, then makes some announcements. Y'all boys, gather up that money, put it in one place, and don't spend a dime of it.
Stop yer cards playing and forget about that money fer the time bein. Let me explain to ya so ya understand-- that money come from stealin and sellin horses. If y'all one penny off it, yer on the hook for everthang. Evert hang, back to the hacksaw and y'all bein seen in town. Ya got it? The quaking boy looks up wide and solemn eyes. The boys, in each his own way, confirm their understanding and assent.

Gentlemen of the posse. Mr. Harvey Adler's is around Comaltown, in Comal County. Mr. Dons and probably some of y'all others know that that is beyond the Hays County sheriff office's jurisdiction. That means, the area of ability to make arrests, fire on suspects, do field hangins when there's no good way to get a criminal to jail, and various other things like that.. I know the Comal County sheriff and deputy sheriff. They're good people, and they wouldn't object to it. They wouldn't mind bein rid of of a stolen horse seller operating in their county either. Them boys will probably help ya out, if ya ask them.

But, by the way, y'all may already know this, but horse thieves don't usually hold onto the stock for long. The got connections who got what they call "stations" out on the prairie and in the gullies and washes. Horses are stolen goods that move along on their own at good quick pace. Whatever y'all decide on, I'd recommend that ya start movin pretty quick. If yer ever in San Marcos again, come by and say yer greetings. Yer welcome there. He touches his brim and walks his horse.

The deputy loosens his belt some notches, goes to the table, and tucks the six pistols under his belt. He also puts the lever action rifle over his shoulder and scoops the shotgun up on the way. Mr. Wiley, I will leave these outside the gate on the way. Y'all boys-- don't fer git today and whut happened. Livia a whole life in the scrub and mesquites ain't no life fer a man. Git ya a purty girl and live peaceful and happy life under a roof. And don't touch that money. Except fer the pennies, nickels and dimes ya may have already had before.

Outside the gate, the deputy dismounts, finds a thick stick, lays the barrels of the firearms on it, away from the dirt, and closes the gate. He starts to spur his healthy young mare, but stops and looks. Mr. McLaury! Check yer temper and yer behavior! He looks William Moore and Paladin in the eye until they both acknowledge. Then he spurs his mare into a trot back up the road toward San Marcos.

A long post. Summary:
-The PCs' horses aren't here. It seems that the Wiley brothers and their young friends sold them to some known or unknown buyers.
-It seems that that sale was arranged through a kind of broker from around Comaltown in Comal County, Texas. The county is south of this place in Stringtown, which is not far from the border with Comal County. I'll post a map of the San Marcos-Stringtown-Comaltown area. San Marcos is at the north, Stringtown south of it, and Comaltown south of Stringtown. The PCs know that this is the more settled part of the state. Not far to the west is the open prairie. It goes hundreds of miles to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Not many sheriffs, courts, or jails there.
-The Wiley crew seems to be disarmed. Beyond that, the posse is on its own for next steps.

PCs' actions?

[Rex]

Charlie

"Seems like he means for us to go after our horses."

[cybersavant]

Andreas Larson "If he haf no jurisdiction, ve certainly do not. Und on borrowed horses."