The old cowboy nodded, the events of the previous day still fresh in his memory.

“Few rustlers. Nothing we ain’t used to dealin’ with, but…” He sighed. “The Lyons boy was runnin’ with them. Tried to draw on us. Had to put the poor kid down, damn it all. ‘Scuse the language, miss.”

When she mentioned Indians he grimaced. That would be an ugly business. The locals wouldn’t take kindly to a raid on white settlers, and they’d certainly want to call up a posse to deal with it. Hopefully they’d be able to get the cavalry garrison at Fort McIntosh to handle the actual retaliation. Bill didn’t relish the idea of dealing with a war party if he didn’t have to. Though no coward in any sense of the word, killing was something he did only when he had to. It was better to leave that to the boys who were paid to do it.

“Probably the Apache gettin’ riled up over somethin’. The bas...Snakes do it every now and again. I’ll round some folk up, see what’s what at the site. Maybe they just scalped ‘em and left ‘em behind.”

He thought for a moment, then glanced over at Benny.

“I’ll leave Benny here for you, Miss Coleman. He can help you with the boy, and I’d feel better knowin’ there’s a man with a gun around. If the Apache really have gone on the warpath, it can’t hurt to have some shooters around.”

Bill settled his hat on his head. 

“I’ll be goin’ now, miss. Try to round some fellas up. I’ll come by and check up on you and the boy when it’s all done, let you know how things turned out.”

He turned and headed back to the street, slapping Benny on the shoulder as he did so. 

“Take care of Miss Coleman.”

Walking back out into the road, he looked around at some of the people who were still gathered.

“Alright folks. Sounds like the boy’s family was hit by injuns. Apache most likely, maybe Comanche. I’m hopin’ to get some men together to go out and go see what happened. Any able-bodied men who’d be willin’ to volunteer, I’d appreciate it. Need men who can shoot and ride, and provide their own guns and horses.” 

He glanced over at the well-dressed couple he'd seen earlier, nodding at the man with the coat around his waist.

"You're welcome to come along, if you can handle a gun."

Announcement made, crossed back into the saloon.

“Vasquez. Castillo. [i]Vamanos.[/i] Formin’ up a posse. Sounds like some folk got themselves attack by injuns outside town. You can play cards later.”

The vaqueros tossed their cards on the table and hurried to join Bill, Vasquez quietly remarking, “We were losing anyway.”