If there were three things I hated, they'd be boredom, insects, and loneliness. In that order. Which is why sitting alone, at my desk, in an office that desperately needed a fumigation was essentially hell for me. Across from my flimsy wooden desk was the desk of my late business partner and friend, Eric King. I began thinking of the adventures we had, and tears welled up in my eyes. I needed some air and a stiff drink.
	The Primafrontier Saloon was fairly less depressing than the rest of the town. The interior was lively and full of song and the smell of whiskey. The bar was crowded and I took a seat next to a man sobbing into his gin. I told the bartender to get me the cheapest ale he had and began speaking to my distressed drinking partner.
	"What's the matter, pal?" I said to him.
	"It's my daughter, she ran off with a gang leader, I haven't spoken to her in a month!" He started sobbing again. I had heard the story often enough, daddy's girl meets a dangerous man, they ride off into the sunset and she's never heard from again. Usually, the worst fate that befell these girls was children, but I've seen far worse. Of course, that all depended on the man who had caught her eye.
	"May I ask which gang leader?" I asked politely as can be. Instead of speaking he slowly pointed to the Saloon's bounty board, to a poster bearing the face of dashing young man. He was wanted for enough crimes to stock a jail, and had a superfluous bounty on his head. My eyes slid down the poster to his name, Abner Hogan. I knew him, he was the former right-hand man of Christoper Card and the man who painted a dirt road with the brains of Eric King. As I told the man about how much trouble his daughter was In and how a man of my skills could help, I could scarcely keep a smile off my face. A chance to make a helluva lot of money, avenge the death of my friend, save a girl's life, and possibly learn the whereabouts of Christoper Card? It was just too good to be true.