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Description
Billy and Andrew made their way back into their car. Snores, sighs and various sounds of the sleeping greeted them. No had moved into their bench, so they took their seats, Billy leaning back against the wall of the rail car. He pulled his Stetson low again.

"Oh no, you sir, are not going to make a pronouncement like that and simply nod off without elaborating!"  Billy didn't move the hat. "William Jefferson Barnes you are insufferable!"

"You sound like my ma' Andrew." He said from beneath the hat. "I don't like it because I don't know a damn thing about it. Some old friend of yer family's tells ya there's a grave robber running rampant in the backwater of the Arizona Territory. So we get drug from the Union to this god damned, red hot chunk o' Hades ta' do what exactly?"

"Find the perpetrators of this heinous offense and bring them to swift justice!" Andrew pounded his fist on the bench for emphasis.

"Now yer soundin' like the preacher. What makes you think we'll have one lick a' luck more'n the sheriff or the rangers?"

"Have we ever failed before?" Billy let the question hang in the quiet of the car before answering.

"No one does, till they do. Get some rest Andrew; I got a feelin' we ain't gettin' much come Tombstone." Andrew was about to protest but a rumbling snore cut him off before he could open his mouth. Billy was out in an instant.

"Damnable man! How does he do that?" Andrew thought about shaking him awake to continue the conversation, but thought better of it. The last time he caught Billy by surprise he ended up getting an altogether too good a look at the business end of one of Billy's Dragoons. He knew the impressive arms were safely hidden away, but had no interest in discovering what weapons Billy had secreted upon himself. Thus foiled, Andrew leaned back and shut his eyes, hoping the steady sound of the rails would carry him off to sleep.

The loud screech of a steam whistle jolted Andrew from sleep. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, as a bleary eyed Reverend Jim stretched his arms and back. Billy was already wide awake.

"Mornin' sunshine." Billy laughed at Andrew's look of discomfort. "Bed not to yer likin'?" Andrew made no reply, but gave Billy a look of pure disdain.

"I assume we've nearly arrived?" The Reverend peered out the window at the dusty red landscape.

As if in answer a conductor made his way through the car. "Tombstone, End of the line! Tombstone, End of the line!" He announced every few steps as he rang his small brass bell, rousing the few remaining sleepers. Another blast of the steam whistle and the screeching of brakes soon drowned him out. The train lurched to a stop, jostling the unprepared. Billy swayed slightly and hefted his banjo case. Without waiting for his companions he made his way to the door and out into the September heat. Even in the shade of the new rail station it was clear today would be unseasonably warm.  The dark skinned porters had already begun to sweat as they unloaded the baggage car.

"Look at this town! Not at all what I'd expected" Andrew was beside Billy now, surveying the town of Tombstone. Everything building was beautiful and new. The Confederacy's push to the west had combined with a huge silver strike to make Tombstone a boom town. It had gone from literally nothing but desert and a single mining claim to a thriving town almost overnight.  Now it was the very model of new American frontier town. They could see town hall from the rail platform, it was a large two story building painted a bright white and trimmed with green, the Stars and Bars fluttering out front. Billy grumbled at the sight of it and went to retrieve their luggage.

It took Andrew a moment to notice that for all the prosperity on display, the streets were nearly empty.  Only a few souls walked or rode through the streets outside of the Rail Station. Billy returned, hauling the large travelling trunk the three men shared. Reverend Jim, recently emerged from their car, made his way round the back of the trunk and seized the handle, sharing the load.

"Yer friend supposed to meet us?" Billy asked, surveying the empty main street.

"I'm sure he'll be by presently. Not like Jasper to keep a man waiting, why it's downright impolite."  Revered Jim watched as the porters worked and sweat in the mid day sun, unloading the baggage car. Not a white face amongst them.

"No, heaven forbid any man in this nation be impolite." He stated matter-of-factly, grey eyes turned upon Andrew. He let the implied to any white man, go unspoken. If Andrew noticed he paid it no heed. Andrew was not far from the mark, they had only been on the platform a few minutes when a young looking man, tin star gleaming on his dark coat, approached them. The newcomer looked young, far too young to be the sheriff, his sandy blonde hair sticking out from beneath his broad brimmed hat and beardless cheeks only added to the impression of youth.

"Excuse me sirs, I'm Deputy Banks. Mayor Hawkins asked me to come meet ya'll and show ya'll to your rooms. We've got some real nice ones for ya'll at the Silver Dollar." Billy noticed the gun the youth carried, one of the oddball Lemats so many of the Confederate Cavalry had fancied during the war. Nine shots of pistol and second barrel full of buckshot, it was the damnedest pistol Billy had ever seen. He was also sure there was no way he was old enough to have been a cavalryman.

"Mayor? Well old Jasper is moving up in the world!" Andrew exclaimed clapping his hands together. "By all means Deputy, please do lead on."

"Ya'll need any helps with those bags? I can couple a' them colored boys to handle that trunk for ya'" Billy bristles at the term boys.

"No son, we have it just fine." Revered Jim spoke before Billy could open his mouth. He shot the younger man a warning glance and Billy clammed up. Andrew could see his knuckles whiten as his grip tightened on the handle of the traveling trunk.

"Alright then, if'n ya'll follow me?" Deputy Banks turned and started up the main street. Andrew glanced once back at Billy and immediately moved to keep pace with the deputy, distracting him with small talk about town.

"Where is everyone Deputy? I would have assumed the streets would be full of life at this hour of the day." Andrew glanced over his shoulder again, Billy still seethed.

"Awww they's all yella! Every one of 'em! Hidin' like a bunch of Prairie Dogs from a hawk!" Deputy Banks spit into the dirt of Main Street as he spoke. "Ain't but a handful not shakin in their boots."

"Over some grave robberies? I'd have thought Confederate frontiersmen would be made of sterner stuff." Andrew chuckled as they walked.

"No sir, ain't just that. Had us a thunderstorm, two nights back, worst I ever seen. Well, half the town get up in a tizzy, sayin' they saw some old Injun feller just a standin' and singin' out In the rain or some such nonsense. Ain't nothing but some crazy old Apache, hills are crawling with em." Andrew was about to press further but they had arrived at the Silver Dollar, Tombstone's newest, finest and only hotel. With a tip of his cap Deputy Banks ambled on, without so much as a backward glance.

The trio made their way into the Silver Dollar, a small bell ringing as the freshly painted green door swung inward. The Silver Dollar was everything they had been promised, the carpet plush, the brass fixtures gleaming. The promise of a decent night of rest in a comfortable bed hung in the air.

"Good afternoon gentlemen! Welcome to the Silver Dollar. It's such a pleasure to have y'all here."  They hadn't noticed the clerk behind the counter, but he was very much there now. A broad smile framed his startlingly white teeth, his eyes slightly obscured by a pair of highly polished brass spectacles. His hair was dark, parted in the middle and slicked down. The paleness of his features contrasted sharply against his dark grey suit.

"And it's a pleasure to be here sir!" Andrew stepped forward swiftly hand extended. "C. Andrew Rutherford III at your service." Clasping hands, the clerk shook vigorously.

"Oh I know who you are sir! We've been eagerly awaiting your arrival. It's not every day we have genuine celebrities in our little town. If ya'll be so kind as to sign our register I can get you your keys." Billy and The Reverend set down the hefty trunk and made their way to the counter, each signing in turn. "If ya'll like I can call our houseboy to help you with that most impressive luggage there."

"Ain't no need for that, The Reverend and I can handle it. He ain't as old as he looks." Billy turned, grinning at The Revered who was less amused.

"Nonsense! We pride ourselves on our service at the Silver Dollar." The clerk produced a brass bell from beneath the counter and rang vigorously.  Seemingly from the same nowhere that the clerk had appeared from stepped a man in a bellhop's red livery. Billy and Jim took a half step backwards as the largest man either had ever seen stepped around the counter. Andrew simply stood and stared.

He was huge, at least six and half feet tall and broad as a bear across the chest. Small white gloves covered his huge dark hands, a small red cap sat perilously atop his shaved head. White teeth shone against his midnight dark skin. He looked poured into the uniform, as though the biggest size they made was still not large enough for his powerful frame.

"Toby, you get these men's trunk upstairs, room 223. Gentlemen, if ya'll will follow Toby he'll show you to your room. Have a pleasant evening, and a restful night."

"Yassuh Boss." Toby drawled. Grasping the handles of the trunk he lifted it as though it weighed nothing. Billy's eyebrows were raised as he met Revered Jim's gaze. It took both of them to haul their trunk, and neither was a small man. "Ifn' ya'll follow me please suh's." Toby said, beginning to ascend the stairs. The trio followed behind, speechless. Toby climbed the stairs effortlessly, leading them to the far end of the hall, where Andrew unlocked the door for room 223.

"Where you want this boss?" Toby asked, making his way inside after Andrew.

"Anywhere is fine Toby." Andrew answered. Toby placed the massive trunk in the middle of the room, near to a small circular table.

"Anything else you need suh?"

"No, thank you kindly Toby. Much obliged." Toby bowed slightly and turned to leave.

"Hold on Toby." Billy tossed something to Toby, his hand flashing up and snatching it out of the air deftly. He glanced down to see a Silver Eagle in his massive white cloved  hand. Smiling, he bowed again.

"You need anything boss, you lets me know, I kin help you boss!" With another bow he retreated, closing the door behind him.

"Good God! How can anyone call that mountain of humanity 'Boy'?" Reverend Jim was polishing his spectacles, as though disbelieving what he just saw.

"You ain't never been more right Preacher." Billy said over his shoulder before turning to peer out the window. The room was at the far end of the hotel, and gave a fine view out over the town and into the desert beyond.

"Well gentleman, I am in powerful need of a drink. What say we go find old Jasper and begin sampling the town's hospitality?" Andrew produced another key and began to unlock the travelling trunk.

"Ought to hurry." Billy was still staring out the window, peering intensely out in the distance.

"What's that?" Andrew asked as the lock clicked open.

"Storm's coming."

Description
Billy and Andrew made their way back into their car. Snores, sighs and various sounds of the sleeping greeted them. No had moved into their bench, so they took their seats, Billy leaning back against the wall of the rail car. He pulled his Stetson low again.

"Oh no, you sir, are not going to make a pronouncement like that and simply nod off without elaborating!"  Billy didn't move the hat. "William Jefferson Barnes you are insufferable!"

"You sound like my ma' Andrew." He said from beneath the hat. "I don't like it because I don't know a damn thing about it. Some old friend of yer family's tells ya there's a grave robber running rampant in the backwater of the Arizona Territory. So we get drug from the Union to this god damned, red hot chunk o' Hades ta' do what exactly?"

"Find the perpetrators of this heinous offense and bring them to swift justice!" Andrew pounded his fist on the bench for emphasis.

"Now yer soundin' like the preacher. What makes you think we'll have one lick a' luck more'n the sheriff or the rangers?"

"Have we ever failed before?" Billy let the question hang in the quiet of the car before answering.

"No one does, till they do. Get some rest Andrew; I got a feelin' we ain't gettin' much come Tombstone." Andrew was about to protest but a rumbling snore cut him off before he could open his mouth. Billy was out in an instant.

"Damnable man! How does he do that?" Andrew thought about shaking him awake to continue the conversation, but thought better of it. The last time he caught Billy by surprise he ended up getting an altogether too good a look at the business end of one of Billy's Dragoons. He knew the impressive arms were safely hidden away, but had no interest in discovering what weapons Billy had secreted upon himself. Thus foiled, Andrew leaned back and shut his eyes, hoping the steady sound of the rails would carry him off to sleep.

The loud screech of a steam whistle jolted Andrew from sleep. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, as a bleary eyed Reverend Jim stretched his arms and back. Billy was already wide awake.

"Mornin' sunshine." Billy laughed at Andrew's look of discomfort. "Bed not to yer likin'?" Andrew made no reply, but gave Billy a look of pure disdain.

"I assume we've nearly arrived?" The Reverend peered out the window at the dusty red landscape.

As if in answer a conductor made his way through the car. "Tombstone, End of the line! Tombstone, End of the line!" He announced every few steps as he rang his small brass bell, rousing the few remaining sleepers. Another blast of the steam whistle and the screeching of brakes soon drowned him out. The train lurched to a stop, jostling the unprepared. Billy swayed slightly and hefted his banjo case. Without waiting for his companions he made his way to the door and out into the September heat. Even in the shade of the new rail station it was clear today would be unseasonably warm.  The dark skinned porters had already begun to sweat as they unloaded the baggage car.

"Look at this town! Not at all what I'd expected" Andrew was beside Billy now, surveying the town of Tombstone. Everything building was beautiful and new. The Confederacy's push to the west had combined with a huge silver strike to make Tombstone a boom town. It had gone from literally nothing but desert and a single mining claim to a thriving town almost overnight.  Now it was the very model of new American frontier town. They could see town hall from the rail platform, it was a large two story building painted a bright white and trimmed with green, the Stars and Bars fluttering out front. Billy grumbled at the sight of it and went to retrieve their luggage.

It took Andrew a moment to notice that for all the prosperity on display, the streets were nearly empty.  Only a few souls walked or rode through the streets outside of the Rail Station. Billy returned, hauling the large travelling trunk the three men shared. Reverend Jim, recently emerged from their car, made his way round the back of the trunk and seized the handle, sharing the load.

"Yer friend supposed to meet us?" Billy asked, surveying the empty main street.

"I'm sure he'll be by presently. Not like Jasper to keep a man waiting, why it's downright impolite."  Revered Jim watched as the porters worked and sweat in the mid day sun, unloading the baggage car. Not a white face amongst them.

"No, heaven forbid any man in this nation be impolite." He stated matter-of-factly, grey eyes turned upon Andrew. He let the implied to any white man, go unspoken. If Andrew noticed he paid it no heed. Andrew was not far from the mark, they had only been on the platform a few minutes when a young looking man, tin star gleaming on his dark coat, approached them. The newcomer looked young, far too young to be the sheriff, his sandy blonde hair sticking out from beneath his broad brimmed hat and beardless cheeks only added to the impression of youth.

"Excuse me sirs, I'm Deputy Banks. Mayor Hawkins asked me to come meet ya'll and show ya'll to your rooms. We've got some real nice ones for ya'll at the Silver Dollar." Billy noticed the gun the youth carried, one of the oddball Lemats so many of the Confederate Cavalry had fancied during the war. Nine shots of pistol and second barrel full of buckshot, it was the damnedest pistol Billy had ever seen. He was also sure there was no way he was old enough to have been a cavalryman.

"Mayor? Well old Jasper is moving up in the world!" Andrew exclaimed clapping his hands together. "By all means Deputy, please do lead on."

"Ya'll need any helps with those bags? I can couple a' them colored boys to handle that trunk for ya'" Billy bristles at the term boys.

"No son, we have it just fine." Revered Jim spoke before Billy could open his mouth. He shot the younger man a warning glance and Billy clammed up. Andrew could see his knuckles whiten as his grip tightened on the handle of the traveling trunk.

"Alright then, if'n ya'll follow me?" Deputy Banks turned and started up the main street. Andrew glanced once back at Billy and immediately moved to keep pace with the deputy, distracting him with small talk about town.

"Where is everyone Deputy? I would have assumed the streets would be full of life at this hour of the day." Andrew glanced over his shoulder again, Billy still seethed.

"Awww they's all yella! Every one of 'em! Hidin' like a bunch of Prairie Dogs from a hawk!" Deputy Banks spit into the dirt of Main Street as he spoke. "Ain't but a handful not shakin in their boots."

"Over some grave robberies? I'd have thought Confederate frontiersmen would be made of sterner stuff." Andrew chuckled as they walked.

"No sir, ain't just that. Had us a thunderstorm, two nights back, worst I ever seen. Well, half the town get up in a tizzy, sayin' they saw some old Injun feller just a standin' and singin' out In the rain or some such nonsense. Ain't nothing but some crazy old Apache, hills are crawling with em." Andrew was about to press further but they had arrived at the Silver Dollar, Tombstone's newest, finest and only hotel. With a tip of his cap Deputy Banks ambled on, without so much as a backward glance.

The trio made their way into the Silver Dollar, a small bell ringing as the freshly painted green door swung inward. The Silver Dollar was everything they had been promised, the carpet plush, the brass fixtures gleaming. The promise of a decent night of rest in a comfortable bed hung in the air.

"Good afternoon gentlemen! Welcome to the Silver Dollar. It's such a pleasure to have y'all here."  They hadn't noticed the clerk behind the counter, but he was very much there now. A broad smile framed his startlingly white teeth, his eyes slightly obscured by a pair of highly polished brass spectacles. His hair was dark, parted in the middle and slicked down. The paleness of his features contrasted sharply against his dark grey suit.

"And it's a pleasure to be here sir!" Andrew stepped forward swiftly hand extended. "C. Andrew Rutherford III at your service." Clasping hands, the clerk shook vigorously.

"Oh I know who you are sir! We've been eagerly awaiting your arrival. It's not every day we have genuine celebrities in our little town. If ya'll be so kind as to sign our register I can get you your keys." Billy and The Reverend set down the hefty trunk and made their way to the counter, each signing in turn. "If ya'll like I can call our houseboy to help you with that most impressive luggage there."

"Ain't no need for that, The Reverend and I can handle it. He ain't as old as he looks." Billy turned, grinning at The Revered who was less amused.

"Nonsense! We pride ourselves on our service at the Silver Dollar." The clerk produced a brass bell from beneath the counter and rang vigorously.  Seemingly from the same nowhere that the clerk had appeared from stepped a man in a bellhop's red livery. Billy and Jim took a half step backwards as the largest man either had ever seen stepped around the counter. Andrew simply stood and stared.

He was huge, at least six and half feet tall and broad as a bear across the chest. Small white gloves covered his huge dark hands, a small red cap sat perilously atop his shaved head. White teeth shone against his midnight dark skin. He looked poured into the uniform, as though the biggest size they made was still not large enough for his powerful frame.

"Toby, you get these men's trunk upstairs, room 223. Gentlemen, if ya'll will follow Toby he'll show you to your room. Have a pleasant evening, and a restful night."

"Yassuh Boss." Toby drawled. Grasping the handles of the trunk he lifted it as though it weighed nothing. Billy's eyebrows were raised as he met Revered Jim's gaze. It took both of them to haul their trunk, and neither was a small man. "Ifn' ya'll follow me please suh's." Toby said, beginning to ascend the stairs. The trio followed behind, speechless. Toby climbed the stairs effortlessly, leading them to the far end of the hall, where Andrew unlocked the door for room 223.

"Where you want this boss?" Toby asked, making his way inside after Andrew.

"Anywhere is fine Toby." Andrew answered. Toby placed the massive trunk in the middle of the room, near to a small circular table.

"Anything else you need suh?"

"No, thank you kindly Toby. Much obliged." Toby bowed slightly and turned to leave.

"Hold on Toby." Billy tossed something to Toby, his hand flashing up and snatching it out of the air deftly. He glanced down to see a Silver Eagle in his massive white cloved  hand. Smiling, he bowed again.

"You need anything boss, you lets me know, I kin help you boss!" With another bow he retreated, closing the door behind him.

"Good God! How can anyone call that mountain of humanity 'Boy'?" Reverend Jim was polishing his spectacles, as though disbelieving what he just saw.

"You ain't never been more right Preacher." Billy said over his shoulder before turning to peer out the window. The room was at the far end of the hotel, and gave a fine view out over the town and into the desert beyond.

"Well gentleman, I am in powerful need of a drink. What say we go find old Jasper and begin sampling the town's hospitality?" Andrew produced another key and began to unlock the travelling trunk.

"Ought to hurry." Billy was still staring out the window, peering intensely out in the distance.

"What's that?" Andrew asked as the lock clicked open.

"Storm's coming."