Cavendish was carrying on about profits and surpluses and the economy and such when there came a knock on the door. "Come in," Cavendish said in his bored sounding tone. Ben Sisco leapt in through the door, and gaped in awe at Luis and Nat. (I've sort of forgotten about him.. I'll try to make him a bigger part of the story now)
"Wow! A real live Mexican Vaquero!" Luis looked at him a little oddly. "Have you ever fought a bull?!" Luis stared at the boy for a long, hard moment, feigning anger. Then, he broke into a fit of laughter.
"No, but I used to be pretty good at riding them, back when I was a little younger..."
"My Pa used to talk about all the fun stuff that Vaqueros and banditos did or could to to farm animals... sheep and goats and boars especially..." Ben jabbered on. "Mostly it was stuff I wasn't allowed to hear, but I know lots of things I'm not supposed to know... anything you want to know, just ask me.. if I don't know it, I'll just go ask my Ma, OK?"
he seemed nice enough, if a little bit wired, and quiet a talker.
"Oh, and if you need supplies and marching dice or something like that, come to my store, I will sell you things... we can talk about discounts for buying bulk, if you come before supper!
So, what is it that you guys do all day? It's kinda stuffy in here, you should open a window or prop the door open with a pewter piglet, on sale this week at my shop for 12 dollars, if you're interested..."
"The best this side of the Mississippi, and the Rio Grande, and the Pacific Ocean... the best mercantile exchange in all of West Texas, well at least all of Taylor county... and we're the best in town, but only because we're the only mercantile in town... are you guys planning a bank robbery with your posse of greasy wetback vaquero banditos? That's so neat! No one will ever expect a darkie a Mexican and a olden timer like you guys in a bank robbery!
I'm gonna be a gunfighter, when I save up enough money for a rifle, so I can hunt the men who killed my Pa... I swiped this bandana from one of those who got killed outside the shop, so I will always know them again, when I see them... then they will die, and I will watch them die screaming... sumbitches!
uh hoh.. don't tell my Ma I cussed... she don't take to cussin', her being a womanfolk and all..."
"Mind if I take a look at this?", Luis asks, leaning over and taking the bandana without waiting for an answer.
"Well I'll be damned...", Nat says from over his shoulder. The article is navy blue, with a small picture of a rattler and the initials "BBB" embroidered into the fabric. "The blue bandana boys... Son, I think we may be able to help you with yo' manhunt."
((I forgot if we already came up with a logo... So I just made one up))
((DR the logo is a Scorpion but other than that, its all good...))
Buddy's eyes lit up, and he made a move as if to enter the tent, but then he hardened, and glared once more at Miko.
"Go to her..." Buddy choked on a whisper to Miko. "Make certain she is well... We will settle this another time."
He looked from Miko to the tent, to Lily. "How is she, Lily?"
"Will you teach me how to shoot?" Ben rambled on. "There was this guy at the mercantile the other day, looking for medicine and flowers for his savage girlfriend, he was going to teach me how to shoot, but then he took his gun and this other guy paid me to shut up and go back to the store... I need to learn quick, before the trail gets colder than my supper... sh!t on a stick, I gotta go, or Ma will tan me good!"
he made a move for the door, then stopped on a dime and turned.
"Oh, that will be 25 cents for the bandana, if you please..." he looked at Cavendish, the white man, expecting that he would be the one pulling the purse strings.
Cavendish laughed heartily, and fished out a shiny silver coin from his pocket, flipping it to the kid.
"A silver dollar! WOW! NEAT!" Ben blabbed. "Thanks Mister! Goodnight, vaqueros!" with that, the lad skipped out of the office and raced home.
The next day, bright and early, when Cavendish arrived at the office along with Luis and Nat, to continue discussing the cattle drive and weigh station depot endeavor, there was the little red-headed, freckle-faced Ben Sisco, already waiting outside the office door.
"G'morning, Sir, and Mr. Mexican vaquero..." Ben smiled. "My Ma says it's OK if I make a bargrain or some such with you folks... if you look out for me this morning so she can get some peas and quiet time or something, then she will cook us all a fine lunch, and then we can talk about a discount for buying bulk marching dice from my Pa's store...
I don't reckon you all know what marching dice is, but we all need it, and so we buy it, and when you need to buy it, you buy it from us, cuz we gots the best marching dice in the town..."
he took a breath. "And, that's my final offer!" then he went into the office as Cavendish unlocked it, and was setting his reading and cyphering books on the desk before the men had all entered...
Meanwhile, in Abilene...
Commander Jericho spent the better part of the week putting the city back in order, keeping the peace while a new Marshall was sought out. In that week, in the back of his mind nightmarish thoughts taunted him.
The Army regiment began to rebuild the city's trust in them, it would be a tricky situation for awhile, but they would make it work. Only one thing kept Jericho himself from fully focusing on regaining the faith of the city-folk; more than the attempted deception by the small-town law dog, Deputy Steven Sanders; more than the repeated jail-breaks by so many simple thieves and petty criminals; more even than the mockery that was made of the justice system when those two forces, Sanders Scorpion mercenaries and the renegade outlaws, merged and converged on the execution proceedings; something was eating away at Commander Geoffrey Jericho's mind, heart and sanity...
"Buddy Reno..." He was alive, and he was back, taunting, teasing, mocking the system of justice and the code of the military, insulting everything that Jericho stood for, everything which Jericho had tried to instill upon Sergeant Walter Reno, Jr during Buddy's tour in the Confederate Army Special Forces.
"He has taken to living among the savages and scuzz-bottom vagrants of the lands... we will rid these lands of those scourges, until we find whichever rock Reno and his renegades are hiding under... then, we will exact proper military justice upon Sergeant Reno for his crimes against the Confederacy!"
"Where do we begin such a search?" his regimental squad leaders wondered.
"The Comanche camps to the west and south..." Jericho ordered. "He won't have gone far... and if he returns of his own free will, Hell-fire will follow with him again, and we will lose our foothold here, the region will fall into anarchy again!
We must find Buddy Reno! Find him, and KILL HIM!"
Jericho crumpled the ratty and wrinkled week old WANTED POSTERS that were no longer being circulated, since it had been brought into question who could be trusted to decide and maintain such things as law and order and justice. Deputy Sanders was quite insane, mad with power, but he had brought disdain and discredit upon the good name of the Army before his death. Jericho had to save face, recover some dignity, and return some level of justice to this city...
... mostly though, he needed to clear his head of the nightmares, to get some much-needed sleep again. The death of Buddy Reno would accomplish all of that!
In Abilene...
Logic and reasoning were winning out, against Commander Jericho's direct orders to his troop leaders.
"Sir, we have pushed the Comanche and other Native tribes from as much of their lands as we can... if we push them further into a corner, there will be massive casualties on both sides. They will not take to more abuse from the white man, and lately, we have been getting resistance to military presence in Indian-friendly territories, from the white communities, like New Hope and others..."
"We can no longer afford to exterminate an entire race or tribe of people, Commander... the people will not stand for it! We are The United States Army now, UNITED, Sir..."
"You are a Confederate soldier, son, under my command.." Jericho threatened.
"Sir..." the Captain countered. "I understand, Sir... but, it's gotten to the men Sir... all the killing, all the losses we have already suffered from the Revolution and all the Indian uprisings... The men, Sir... they won't fight the battles for the 'good of the Confederacy'... did we learn nothing from the Reno Revolt 5 years ago?"
"RENO? Buddy Reno was a coward and a drunk! Never mention that name again in my presence, Captain... or you will face court martial and death, by my hand..."
Geoffrey Jericho had learned plenty from Buddy Reno's various acts of treason and revolt.
"There is no room for cowardice and treason in this mans' Army..." Jericho decided. "If this is what it has come to, it is not my Army any more..."
Commander Geoffrey Jericho removed the sabre and scabbard from his belt, and the medals and insignia from his uniform, and lay them on the table. He them proceeded to write his last and final letter of order and instruction as a military officer.
"Reno's Renegades..." he muttered to himself. "I'll show you RENEGADES!"