INFANT CURIOSITIES
By: Rhicy
The wind finally died down just before dawn and the approaching morning took a relieved breath and began to break. No sun was in sight yet, but the eastern horizon was changing from a solid black into a dull, silver gray, a white tinge peeking the very edge.
Vin Tanner watched the coming dawn, his back to the low campfire. Three huddled figures lay wrapped in blankets, and Vin lifted his hand from the warmth of inside his hide-coat, to touch the cool ground beneath him. The wind had sucked the earth dry, and Vin doubted if there would be dew come sunrise. Despite the approaching summer, Vin's outer jacket was cold to the touch and the Texan was looking forward to some coffee.
In the quiet time between night and day, a peaceful stillness lay over the country. No wind to rustle the leaves, no passing animals to slip through the grass making their way home. All lay quiet.
A distinct moan of distress brought his head up sharply. Mrs. Jones clutched her stomach, and uttered another groan, her face tightened by the onslaught of pain. Chris lifted a disheveled head, his hair standing on end in a multitude of directions but no trace of sleep or confusion on the gunslinger's face. Sharp green eyes took in the situation immediately.
Before Gill could groan again, the two peacekeepers were at her side. Chris knelt and laid a cautious hand on Gill's stomach. "It's coming!" she hissed through clenched teeth.
"This your first?"
Gill nodded and took a deep breath before the next contraction started. "It's happening awfully quick," Vin pointed out placing his and Chris' rolled bedrolls behind Gill.
"Some women start real sudden - Mrs. Jones here seems to be one of 'em."
"Hate to say it Chris, but this is one of those times I wish I were here with Nathan insteada you."
Chris grunted and helped Gill settle onto the raised bedrolls, her breathing quickening as the labour continued. Darwin Jones remained fast asleep, wrapped tightly in his blanket.
"You done this before?"
Chris' question stopped Vin in his tracks, as the Texan bent to stir the fire up, trying to warm the chilly pre-dawn air. "What? Aint' you done this before?"
Chris shook his head. "Was there when Sarah's labour started, then she kicked me out when the midwife arrived. I've birthed calves and foals plenty atimes, guess I could manage. You?"
Vin shrugged with one shoulder slightly higher than the other, his face unreadable. "Indian womenfolk just do it themselves - ain't a place for a man. But I helped a friend of mine's wife when I was buffalo hunting - twice."
"Twins?"
"Nope."
Chris mock-frowned at Vin to see if he was joking but the tracker was serious. "Her man's name didn't happen to be Coney did it?"
"Matter of fact it was."
"Do you boys mind! I'm having a baby here!" The beleaguered woman's voice rose like a shrill siren drawing the two men's attention back to her.
"Not just yet ma'am, you got some time yet."
"I don't know, Chris. The contractions are kinda close." Vin's face was hidden in the lingering darkness.
Chris paused and then asked quietly, "You wanna check?"
Not even the darkness could hide the blush on Vin's face, but he nodded and said, "Might as well if I'm gonna deliver the baby."
"Do I have a say in this?"
Gill looked very put out, "I am not some cow you all are discussing - might look it at times - but I do gotta a say on who does what."
Chris cleared his throat and turned his head away, hiding the slight flush, but Vin just blushed again and apologised, "Sorry ma'am. What do you want us to do?"
Mollified, Gill grimaced through her next contraction before continuing. "First you boys can get cleaned up. Four hands are better than two. Second, you'll need a lota clean blankets and stuff. Third, you can wake up my butt lazy husband. He ain't missin' the birth of his son."
Chris smiled and stood, stretching his long dark frame like a living shadow. "I'll get the father-to-be up. You get some water boiling Vin."
Chris walked the few steps towards Jones, surprised the man had slept through the noise. Chris toed the still form, urging the outlaw to wake up. "Get up, Jones."
Darwin had slept near the small copse of trees while Chris and Gill had slept closer to the rock face, using it to protect them from the wind. The small copse was swathed in blackness, none of the wane pre-dawn light penetrating the darkness.
Chris nudged Jones again, his push a lot firmer this time, "Get up, your wife's having her baby." Turned at a slight angle to the copse, Chris didn't see the elongated shadow that stepped from the murky depths and placed a gun barrel to the back of his head.
Instantly Chris froze, the cold metal pressing against his upper neck. A gravel rough voice directed at Vin hissed behind Chris. "Reach for it, friend, and blondie here will bite the dust. Drop the piece."
After several long seconds passed, Chris heard Vin put his sawed-off Winchester on the ground and step back towards Gill. Jones rolled out of his blankets in a tangle of legs and clothes. "'Bout time you got here, Earl. What took you so long?"
"Some sneaky son of a gun lead us false, laying tracks near clear all the way to Texas. It was only when I realised we shoulda found a camp a coon's age ago that I headed back. Pure luck I stumbled on y'all here. The rest of the boys are nearby, searching the area."
The bodiless voice remained out of Chris's sight, the gun firmly in place. Gill moaned again but neither regulator moved. Jones grinned with pleasure and moved towards Vin's mare's leg. Picking up the weapon, he fired it into the air. "Well, let's just get the rest of the gang over here. I'm about to be a daddy!"
An answering gunshot was heard to the north, another to the west. Chris felt the gun move swiftly from his head, to be buried between two ribs, painfully pressing against the muscle. "Hands on your head, mister."
Silently Chris complied, managing to turn himself as he did so to see the rest of the camp. Vin was standing between Gill and Darwin, his eyes darting from the Winchester pointed directly at him and the man covering Chris. Gill was strangely silent, unsure about the situation, her eyes.
"Get the hell away from my wife, " Jones snarled, waving the rifle toward Vin.
The Texan moved near the opening of the shelter before Jones could force him in another direction. The revolver tucked in his waistband, hidden by his leather jacket, was uppermost in the tracker's mind. He'd have to move quickly before the rest of the outlaw gang arrived.
Chris still couldn't see the man holding him captive, but he saw the message Vin sent in a brief eye contact. When Darwin momentarily glanced at his labouring wife as she tried to stand, Vin made his move.
Simultaneously Chris dropped to one knee as Vin fired at Earl, shooting the light-footed scout in the upper arm. Cursing, Earl dropped the gun and Chris snatched the weapon up, pointing it directly at Darwin. Jones, stunned by the lightning actions, suddenly found himself facing two angry and armed gunmen. Gulping, Jones eyed the lightened skyline trying to see his approaching gang. Vin, too, was searching with one eye hoping the approaching riders were still far away. With his attention divided between Darwin, who still had his Winchester pointed at Vin, and the distant horizon, Vin missed the slight movement of Earl raising a dull blade. Chris sensed the danger too late, having glanced at Darwin briefly; but still managed to turn in time to stop the knife from plunging into his back. Instead, the blade was thrust into his shoulder, scrapping against bone before burying itself to the hilt in the fleshy part of his upper arm.
Trying to switch the gun to his left hand, Chris couldn't stop the half-shout as Earl twisted the knife, Chris' knees buckling from the onslaught. Vin, now found himself with two firearms pointing directly at him, Darwin's aim roving across Vin's chest.
"Drop it, dog turd or Earl'll start carvin' up Larabee."
Vin hesitated, reluctant to part with his weapon and Earl viciously twisted the knife again, his vindictiveness unhindered by the seeping bullet hole in his upper right arm. The left hand was clamped onto Chris' shoulder, forcing the gunslinger to remain on his knees.
Chris couldn't seem to think beyond the poker-hot pain twisting in his shoulder. Desperately, Chris reached with his left hand trying to remove the source of the pain, the gun forgotten in his need. Earl let go of Chris' shoulder and caught the reaching hand, effectively immobilizing the lethal gunfighter by pulling the entire left arm behind Chris' back.
Heart pounding relentlessly in his ears, Chris couldn't hold back the scream as Earl ripped the knife out, twisting it again as he did so. Head swimming with pain, Chris didn't resist as Earl roughly pulled his right arm back as well, and tied Larabee's hands with rawhide. The harsh treatment only garnered an explosive grunt as Chris fought to regain his senses.
Chris struggled to push the surging agony away, and lifted his head to check on Vin. Through pain-dulled green-eyes, Chris realised they were no longer alone.
Somehow in the midst of the moment, part of the gang had arrived. Four additional men stood in the sheltered hollow; their dusky silhouettes were highlighted as the sun peaked on the eastern horizon.
Careful not to move his arm or right shoulder, Chris tried to find Vin's lanky form before him but a callused hand clamped onto his wound. Biting back the cry of pain, Chris continued to search the clearing, his blurry vision unable to distinguish the mass of figures in front of him.
'Where the hell are you, Vin?'
The sun had just fully cleared the hilltops when its yellow-dusted rays found a perturbed JD Dunne stalking through the streets of Four Corners. The young man had been unable to return to his interrupted reading since the first ear-splitting howl had awakened the whole town. After waiting for dawn to arrive, the young man was determined to solve the mystery.
Many of the stores were already open and it appeared that JD was not the only one to remain sleepless last night. With his bowler hat pulled down over his ears, JD stood in the middle of the empty main street and looked around, hoping to spot something unusual.
The detective in his story had looked for something out of place, and now JD bent his mind to trying to do the same. So involved in his study was the young man, that when a large hand was placed on his shoulder, JD just about jumped out of his skin.
"Relax, son. It's just me."
"Damn it, Josiah. Scare a body half to death!"
Brushing his shaky hands over his jacket to hide his trembling, JD glared at the tall preacher. Josiah sent a warm grin down to the young Easterner and patted the jittery shoulder. "Trying to solve the mystery?"
JD straightened his hat and nodded abruptly, "Trying to see what's out of place. What's different."
"Sounds like a good idea. Need any help?"
"Naaah! Thanks anyway Josiah."
The preacher left the young man and walked to the saloon for breakfast, his eyes catching Nathan moving in the same direction.
"Brother Nate."
"Josiah."
Nathan rubbed his hands together eagerly, "Hope Inez has something nice and hot cooking. I'm starved."
Josiah pushed Nathan in front of him through the saloon doors and said, "I'm sure she does."
Josiah's booming voice was cut off as the pair entered the saloon. Alone in the street JD tried to figure out a possible answer.
The newly arisen sun tried to pierce the gloomy depths of the cave, sending fingers of pink light into the confines of the shelter. One long-boned form slumbered on; it's wide-brimmed hat covering tender blue eyes from the questing sunshine.
The dawn sun found an early riser, one for whom it kissed with its noonday heat while the individual was up and about. Well perhaps about was too good a word. Awake could be better used to describe the grumpy riser. Wide-awake. And scheming.
Ezra lay beneath his bedroll, only his thoughtful face visible above the covers. Oblivious to the beauty around him, Ezra's mind was contemplating a different view. A quicksilver mind, elusive and nimble worried at the dapper gambler's problem. Plots and schemes were reviewed, considered, debated, and discarded at a rapid pace. The cause of all this mental activity slept blissfully unaware.
Try as Ezra might, he struggled to find a solution to his quandary. Successful plans of old were resurrected and dusted off, given new polish and life, only to be mentally crumpled up and thrown to the floor in disgust.
'Damn! There has to be some way to convince Buck to let me read that letter and to ensure his silence regarding my activities. The man is a nefarious blowhard without the common decency of keeping his exceptionally large mouth shut. Once we return to our fair municipality, every Thomas, Richard and Henry will know about my indiscretion, including the honorable Judge Travis and the indomitable Chris Larabee. While I do not doubt that I could bluff my way out of this mess, I'd rather not have two such powerful denizens to feel any animosity or ambiguity regarding my position. Lowering myself to mail-fraud is not an image I wish to cultivate.'
The con man's thoughts continued to whirl and twirl around, all the while avoiding the obvious. Ezra hated being caught out at anything.
Vin tried not to inhale any of the dirt as his face was roughly forced against the compact ground. A solid, weighty knee with a good 200 pounds behind it was pressing down on the small of his back, a meaty hand clenched on his neck, another grimy paw relentlessly twisting his left arm behind his back. The outlaw on top of the wiry tracker was breathing hard, and trying to wipe his bleeding nose on an available sleeve, grinding Vin's face harder in the dirt as he did so.
The four outlaw's arrival had sufficiently turned the tables on the regulators, and after a brief but fiercely fought struggle, sheer numbers immobilized Vin. He couldn't see Chris, since he head was turned in the opposite direction but the occasional grunt and painful gasp told the Texan all he needed to know. They were in serious trouble.
During all the commotion, Gill Jones had kept her groans to a minimum and when it became vividly apparent that her husband was now in charge of the situation, she directed her breathless shout at him.
"Darwin! Quit messing around and get over here!"
Darwin Jones took one look at his labouring wife and paled visibly. "Now hon, I ain't gonna be much help ..."
"I ain't doing this alone, Darwin. You're just as much a part of this as I am. Get over here!"
Darwin took a hasty step back from his wife and motioned Howard, a tall, rangy man, to tend his wife. "Go on, Howie - you birthed calves before. Help Gill out."
"I AM NOT having that lumbering ox fumbling his way through this, Darwin! Ain't any of you cowboys birthed a child?"
Earl sat near a bound Larabee; his half-breed features a stark contrast to the brilliant blue eyes that took in everything. Vin's bullet had passed clean through his arm; and George Foreman, a runt of a giant, his overlarge frame disproportionate to his tiny head and hands, was tending to Earl. Earl watched as the two outlaws helping themselves to a breakfast of leftovers, shook their heads at Gill's question. Joe, the younger of the pair of brothers gulped down his mouthful of cold rabbit and spluttered, "No, ma'am. Neither me or Howie here have ... well you know ... helped a lady ... like that." His brother continued munching steadily, his cheeks chipmunk full as if he was determined to get enough before it was too late.
Vin felt his captor shift and a deep voice rumbled above his head, "Ain't any of us with that kinda experience Mrs. Jones." Shifting his attention to Darwin, the muscle-bound outlaw addressed his boss, "You want that I should take care of this scrawny fella for you, Mr. Jones? Take the pair of 'em aways from here so as not to ... disturb your missus."
Darwin was about to answer, clearly pleased at the prospect of taking out the lawmen, when Gill's shrill voice split the air yet again. "Just one cotton-picking minute, Darwin Jones! Since none of you fine fellas are qualified to help me out here - and I aim to have a little assistance - considering I'm about to give birth in the middle of nowhere because of you, Darwin Eugene Jones - I'm gonna need them two alive and kicking!" Gill had managed to deliver her speech despite the contractions and a stunned silence greeted her initial demand.
"Gill - honey - you don't gotta settle for a pair of no-account lawdogs as your midwifes. 'Sides Larabee's hurt, ain't gonna be any use to you and I sure as hell ain't having that ... low-down yella-belly Indian lover - no offense Earl - anywhere near you. Don't worry that pretty little head of yours, we'll get by. Now, just let Bob ...."
"DARWIN!" Gill snapped, her brown eyes flashing in anger, "I don't care what you want. Right now I need 'em - both of 'em and I aim to have 'em. NOW!"
Vin tried to ignore the sharp little stone cutting into his cheek as the husband and wife continued to argue. His right hand was trapped beneath his body and Vin really wanted to get rid of the increasingly painful pressure on his lower back. Bob showed no inclination of letting up. Abruptly, Bob changed the angle of his knee, angling it higher and shoving Vin's ribcage against the ground. Vin tried to get a knee up and gain some leverage in order to toss his captor, but Bob leaned heavily onto his knee, all 200 pounds pressing against taut muscle and spine. Groaning in response, Vin nearly missed the end of the argument.
"Fine! You win! Bob, let the damn lawdog up."
Reluctantly, Bob removed his knee and jerked Vin to his feet. Maintaining his hold on Vin's arm, Bob pulled so far back that Vin swore it was about to break. Grimacing, Vin finally got a look at Chris. His partner was laying against the rock face, his arms tied firmly behind him. The half-breed Earl was guarding him.
The ugly mug of Darwin Jones stepped in front of Vin's line of sight and Jones got into Vin's face. "You listen up dirt-pile. You're gonna help my wife have her baby and you ain't gonna try anything - anything at all, else Larabee is gonna pay the price - in blood. You understand?"
"Damn Jones. You could kill abody with breath like that."
Snarling, Darwin sent a hard punch into Vin's stomach. Vin would have doubled over in pain, but Bob's hold on his arm prevented his instinctive curl. Darwin grabbed the front of Vin's shirt and drew the dusty tracker close to his face. "You got a lot nerve boy. I'll shoot you and Larabee and just let Gill do it on her own. Don't give me a reason to make my wife upset. Got it?"
"Yeah," Vin groaned.
"Good." With a dismissive nod Jones stepped away and Bob released Vin, shoving the lean Texan so that Vin stumbled forward. Vin played out his strained left arm, trying to get some feeling back and noted Bob admiring his stolen bowie knife. "I'll expect to get that back."
Bob looked mildly surprised at Vin's statement and smiled a gapped-tooth grin. "You'll try, boy. You'll try."
Ignoring the oafish man, Vin walked towards Gill, preparing to bring another life into this world and hopefully prevent his and Chris' departure.
Nathan pushed the saloon doors open and was startled to see the bottom half of one JD Dunne sticking out from under the saloon porch. A brown, dusty behind was wiggling in the air as the top half of the young man wormed his way under the porch.
Behind Nathan, Josiah strode onto the porch, his large frame resounding across the wooden planks. A muffled cry of annoyance came from JD and both regulators vaguely heard the young man shout, "Quit stomping around up there! You're gonna scare it away!"
A furious hiss was heard next, followed by a hurt yelp and soon JD's behind was wiggling vigorously. Creating a tiny dust cloud, JD shuffled backwards and emerged from under the porch, holding a bedraggled cat. The sleeve of his white shirt was torn; and judging by the cat's energetic attempts to gain freedom, JD would suffer far worse if the flailing claws came close enough.
A rather dusty face peered at Nathan and Josiah, and a row of white flashed at the pair. "What'd ya think boys? Think this could be the cause of that howl last night?"
Nathan shrugged and said, "Don't think so, JD. I think we'd recognise a cat howl. And that weren't no cat screech last night."
Josiah nodded, "Seems you'll have to keep looking, JD."
Flinging the squirming feline away from him, JD frowned and stood up, dusting himself off. "Didn't think it was a cat. I thought maybe one got stuck under a porch or something, but then it'd probably have kept on screeching until it got free."
"Found any other clues yet?" Nathan stared curiously at Josiah, but JD seemed to deflate at the question.
"Nope. Nothing. I don't know Josiah. It seemed so easy in the book but here ... there isn't a single clue!"
JD pulled on his jacket, and slouched against the saloon rail. He had spent the morning trying to find something, anything - but nothing was any help.
"Maybe Nate and I can help."
"We can?"
"Please Mr. Wilmington - just consider my proposal. We both stand to benefit from the bargain."
Ezra tried to maintain pace with Buck; but every time he caught up with the ladies' man hoping to engage Buck in conversation, the frustrated gambler would lag behind yet again as Buck forged ahead.
Finally cursing in frustration Ezra grabbed Buck's reins and pulled the gray to a stop. Buck was grinning - fit to burst; he was so tickled with having the gambler over a barrel. 'Who'd athought that ole Ez would get so flustered over a letter. It's just like when that one-legged gambler conned him. The fancy Southerner can't stand not knowing. He's more curious than a three-legged, one-eyed cat.'
"Well?"
"Well what, Ez? I stopped listening to you yabbering three miles back."
Ezra almost asphyxiated himself with outrage. "I've been offering you a deal that could make us both very happy, Mister I-have-the-attention-span-of-a-gnat Wilmington!"
"Well, if you're gonna be uppity." Buck made as if to leave and Ezra's rather firm grip stopped him. Before Ezra could interject, Buck twitched a bushy eyebrow at the gambler and said, "I ain't interested in any deal, Ez. The judge's letter stays unopened. I've seen the error of my nosy ways and I'm gonna take your advice and not read the letter."
"B.. Buck - now just listen a moment. I am not proposing that we read the letter - merely that we open it and restore it to its pristine condition."
"Restore? How in the world do you plan on doing that, Ez? Ya just about burnt it to a crisp ... and don't think you have me fooled. I know you'll read the 'opened' letter first chance you get."
"You slander me, good sir. The letter is redeemable. I have the exact stationery back at Four Corners and I am a fair hand at forgery, enough so that the Judge will not know the difference."
"That right?" Buck queried, raising his eyebrows quizzically. "What's in it for me? Since I ain't interested in reading the letter."
Ezra paused momentarily, his lithe mind considering the problem. Coming to a decision Ezra cleared his throat. "Well, hear me out, Buck. You allow me to - restore - the letter and I will ...ah ... forget our deal .…"
Buck interrupted with a sharp snort of laughter, "That poker deal? Hell Ezra, you didn't actually expect me to go through with something as stupid as that? Give you everything I own? Right!"
Ezra mouthed silently for a few precious seconds before collecting himself. "Mr. Wilmington I ...." He took another deep breath. "Mr. Wilmington, I seriously considered you to be a man of your word."
The mocking smile fell off Buck's face, and he stared at Ezra unsure if the gambler was trying to con him. Tilting his head to one side as if the new angle might shed some light on the situation, Buck quietly said, "OK Ez, you got a deal. When we get back home, you can fix the letter and our little bet is forgotten."
Ezra solemnly extended his hand preparing to shake on the deal but Buck paused, "On one condition, Ezra."
With his hand still extended Ezra asked, "What condition?"
"That you swear, as my friend, that you will not read the letter."
Caught in his own trap Ezra was stunned. Calling Buck on his honor was one thing, but Buck expecting the same in return. … "Fine. It's a deal. I will not read the letter as I restore the envelope and your debt to me is forgotten."
Shaking on the deal, Buck turned his horse and started forward, his serious voice drifting back to Standish, "You'd be surprised how much we all trust ya, Ez. Including Chris."
Ezra stared at his friend's back, surprised that he believed the tall ladies' man.
"You coming Ez?"
Silent for a moment, Ezra called, "Indeed, Mr. Wilmington, indeed I am," and nudged his horse Loki forward as he hurried to catch up with his friend.
"Nearly there, ma'am. I can see his head."
Gill Jones let out an explosive gasp and sucked in a deep lungful of air, her blond locks darkened with sweat and clinging to the sides of her face. All the outlaws save Earl and Darwin had moved to the far side of the camp in order to give Gill some privacy. The combination of angle and manly embarrassment had ensured that the looks directed Gill's way where brief and seldom.
Chris had managed to help Vin in the preparations. Vin was down to his shirt, the sleeves rolled above his arms, a waiting pile of clean clothes beside him. Chris was impressed by how calm his best friend was. Vin was all business and kindness, gently assuring Gill and being completely calm about the whole situation.
Chris sent a glare in Darwin's direction as the gunslinger wiped Gill's forehead with a cool cloth. The lady's husband should be doing this for her; instead Darwin was sitting a few feet away, Vin's gun in hand and a small whiskey flask in the other. Gill obviously thought Darwin was neglecting his duties as well, since she hadn't stopped haranguing him when she got a moment to gather her breath. Darwin had been spared her barbs as the contractions increased, but now as the baby was about to be born, Gill was able to get enough air to hiss at her slouching husband, "You don't want to see your son being born? Quit acting a fool and get over here."
Face pale and sweaty, Jones shook his head and took another swig at the flask, his eyes resting on Vin, and not his wife. "Don't try anything. I got my eye on you."
Vin glanced at Chris and muttered under his breath so Jones wouldn't hear. "I'm startin' to be real sorry we made that bet with Ezra."
"Starting?" Chris hissed incredulous. "I wanted to punch his lights out back in town. You started only regretting it now?"
"Had a real nice picture of Ezra shoveling out those stalls in my head to keep me going. Only now ... well, the picture of me pounding Jones is looking mighty tempting."
"You're telling me!" Chris bit out, glaring at Jones.
"But then, I remember our half of the bargain and let's just say, it works as a real fine reminder just why I ain't introducing him to my knuckles."
Chris grunted in agreement. There was no way he was gonna spend a whole day mucking out stalls, although seeing Vin sharing the task with a disgruntled, moaning Ezra would be very entertaining.
"Don't even think about it, Cowboy. Ain't gonna happen."
Chris grinned, hiding the momentary amusement as he wetted the cloth. Gill had marked the conversation silently, her face strangely guarded. Finally she whispered, "You boys ain't concerned about what's gonna happen after the baby comes?"
Chris didn't even look at Vin as he said, "Nope."
Vin ducked to hide his smile, muttering to Gill, "Yeah, Chris plans to use his glare to get us outta here. I ever tell you how he once ...."
A nudge from a black leg had both Gill and Vin chuckling, the moment of levity a release in the tense situation. "You boys sure are something."
"You ready Miz Gill?"
Gill nodded, finding herself strangely calm and prepared.
Three heads bent over the clue.
"What do you think Josiah?"
One hand fingered it.
"Not too sure son."
Another darker hand nudged the object.
"I'm pretty sure this is crap, JD."
A head full of black hair shook violently.
"No. No, Nate. I know this is something. It's gotta mean .... Something."
A rumbling laugh.
"No JD, I meant this here 'clue' is crap - a buffalo chip, a cow pie, a piece of crap!"
"Ohhhh."
Undaunted, a hand brought out another clue.
"What about this? It was near the general store."
"Son, that's a owl dropping. You know - dead mouse."
"Ugh!"
