Jackson Hayes, known locally as "Jake", sat at a corner table in the saloon with his back to the wall, looking at the cards in his hand, his face a mask of apathy. 3 other men sat around the table, with equally inscrutable looks on their own faces. Bill Mathews, another local, sat to Jake's left, occassionally tapping his boot on the floor, a tell that Jake knew to mean he was uncertain about his hand. Continuing to the left, around the small table, the next man was known only as West, since that was all anyone knew about where he'd come from, maybe 6 months back. He was a a hard looking man with a cold stare, which currently went from one face to another around the circle, as he waited to see what each was prepared to wager. He spent little time looking at his cards, which told Jake he was confident in his hand. The 3rd and final opponent was a fat, greasy looking cow hand, none too bright, who'd been losing as much on his cards as he spent on liquer. James was his name, and he came to town about once a month, whenever her got paid, and usually left broke. Tonight, however, he seemed to have an air of confidence about him, despite how the game had gone thus far.
"I'll take 2." Bill gunted, finally breaking the silence. Being his turn to deal the cards, James shot two from the deck across the table with a gap toothed grin.
Jake suddenly knew why James attitude towards the game had not reflected his losings. He'd bet large on this hand, and was dealing from the bottom of the deck, and not as smoothly as he obviously thought he was. Jake knew what would come next and shifted his weight accordingly in his chair, holding his cards in his left hand as his right dropped below the table. Then he heard exactly what he'd anticipated from West.
"Put that there deck on the table and walk away." West said in a slow cold tone, his own hand resting on the butt of his revolver.
Bill looked around at the other men, having completely missed the bad deal, but realizing what had happened almost immidiately. A stunned look crossed the cowpoke's face for only a moment, then a flash of terror, and in one motion he shot from his seat, hand reaching for his gun as Bill flew from his own chair shouting "You dirty son of a..." but before he could even finish the sentence shots rang out. West put two in James chest causing the fat cowhand to fall backward, accidentally firing one round off as he fell, which found the skull of a man across the room at the bar.
That was when all hell broke loose.
The bystander at the bar had been drinking with a pair of rough looking men who looked fresh from the road. They instantly spun to see only West on his feet and with a gun in his hand. Understandably, one of them drew and fired at Bill, missing by mere inches. Knowing what had actually happened, and being more familiar with West than these two men, Jake shouted as he also drew his weapon, screaming "It wasn't him!", but West had already turned on his new assailants and fired his 3rd bullet for the evening, putting it right in the mans chest. His forth rang out at the same time as the other man at the bar slapped leather. Hot lead found the third mans shoudler, and a final shot rang out from West's gun, hitting the man in the cheek, blowing the back of his head out across the bar and shattering about 3 of the whiskey bottles lining the shelves behind it.
Most of the small crowd had leaped for cover or dashed out the door during the exchange, leaving only West on his feet, and Jake crouched behind the card table alongside Bill, who's only weapon was a bowie knife. The bar tender poked his head up to see that the shooting was finished, then rose and shouted at the card table in general, "Ya'll beter have enough in that there pot to cover all these damages!!"
West holstered his weapon, as did Jake. Bill rose and shouted back, "It was all this fat fucking cheaters doin, Elmer!!"
"I don't care who started it, Bill! Ya'll that had guns out better plan on cleaning this mess up, covering my losses, and giving an account to the Sherrif when he gets here!"
Bill nodded to Elmer, acknowledging his share of the responsability. "I'll talk to Sherrif Watson when he gets here... I shot first, but only cause that cheat was drawing on us when I called him out for dealing from the bottom of the deck."
It was about ten minutes before the Sherrif walked in. Bill, Jake, and West were standing at the bar by this time, everyone else having left, wanting nothing to do with the aftermath. "Good lord, Almighty, boys. What the hell happened here?!"
"Seems this feller were cheatin the game, Sherrif, and when West called him out for it he tried to draw down, so he had to gun him down where he stood." Elmer began reciting from what he'd seen himself and been told of how it started.
"Fella's gun went off as he fell and shot a man at the bar, so his associates turned and started shooting at me under the assumption the bullet came from my barrel, so I had to defend myself again." West added.
The Sherrif crossed the room, looking at each of the corpses in turn. Recognition was clear as a bell on his face as he looked over the three dead men on the floor in front of the bar. "Holy hell, West! You know who these fella are??"
"Not a clue, Sherrif. Alls I know was that they was fixin to end me and I had to do what I done to put a stop to it."
"Well, this here's the Hanks gang, or at least part of it!" the Sherrif said, obiously astonished. "Some of the meanest, lowest snake in the grass bank robbers known to be in the territory! Damned fast with their iron too, I hear, tell! Done robbed 4 banks in these parts over the last month...An' you outgunned the pair of em?"
West glanced over at Jake with a sour look on his face. "Mhm... seems I did. Weren't no choice in the matter. Like I said, they drew on me when ol' James's gun went off as he fell."
"Saw the whole thing myself, Sherrif. James was pulling iron and West had no choice with him, then same as with these fellas after their buddy went down." Jake said slowly.
"Seein' as the bank ain't been robbed here in town, I'm reckoning these three were here to take stock of the place and get back to the gang with whatever information they could gather to plan things out. When they don't return that bunch is gonna be riding into town to find out why... and then there's gonna be some real trouble." the Sherrif said, thinking aloud.
"Say, Sherrif, just how you know these boys was with the Hanks, anyhow?" Jake asked.
"Well, two of em's got a likeness of em on posters in my office with a fair bit of money for their capture or their corpses. Seems you got some bounty money owed you over this West."
"Not much good to me if I can't live to spend it, now is it, Sherrif?" West replied with a downtrodden tone.
"Then I reckon I better get it out of the safe for you and let you be on your way out of town afore the rest of 'em ride in. Elmer, you go wake the Doc and have him come make the pronouncements on these men, and help haul them over to the undertakers place down the street. Let's get this mess cleaned up and get the bodies out of sight and figure what we're gonna do when their friends show up."
West followed the Sherrif out of the tavern, Elmer not far behind. Bill muttered something and tipped his hat before making his own way out as well, leaving Jake with his thoughts.
"Jesus, what a mess!" he said aloud to himself. He'd known West since shortly after the man had rode into town near six months earlier, and figured him for a good man in that span of time. Never would have guessed he was that fast with a six shooter though. Made him wonder about West's past more than ever, and about the air of mystery he'd carried with him. Never did like having questions put to him about where he came from, or where he was headed, but had implied he had no intention of sticking around too long in his first few days here. Jake figured he'd be gone by the end of a fortnight, but seemed he kept finding odd jobs here and there, just enough to keep him busy, and between that and the card games, West just never quite got around to the leaving town part. After this, weren't much doubt he'd be long gone by sunrise, though.
After 6 years or so of hanging around himself, Jake was strongly inclined to head out with him rather than get dragged into this whole matter and have a gang of gunslingers, cut throats and robbers looking for vengeance against anyone who happened to have been in the saloon when this went down. A shame, that, he thought to himself, having come to a point of feeling like this little one horse town had become a home to him, of sorts.
Jake had made a decent living with odd jobs around town himself over the years, from carpentry as the town grew, to well digging and running fences for local ranchers, even helping with deliveries to some of them from the general store. Of late he'd been working part time at the saw mill just outside town, sharpening the blades and doing other tasks.
