The intense sun shined brightly over the town of Dawson, Texas. The intense heat meant that the tourists were spending their time watching moving pictures, or in saloons getting drinks and food. The folks in the outer district didn't have that pleasure. Instead, farmers and other store owners carried on, trying desperately to make a living in a town that was promised the "Best in the West." The districts only saloon stood in the heat, a gust of wind and sand blowing past the entrance. Inside, prostitutes, musical performers, and bartenders tried to keep their customers happy. Most of the patrons at the bar were either weary travelers, criminals on the run, or both. As the clock hit high noon, the saloon doors gave way to reveal two gentlemen dressed in elegant black suits, and hats. They were right on time. One of the men made it to the bar to order drinks. A small group sitting at the table heard the man say: "Four shots of whisky, free of charge, correct?"

"Of course, Mister Grant. Drinks are always on the house for Dawson's Gang." 

"Glad to hear it." He said simply, taking the drinks and making his way to the table.

The second man that walked in had made it towards one of the prostitutes, trying his best to "charm" the women by stating his wealth, and power. The patrons at the bar paid no attention to the hostility that progressed from their conversation, and everyone did their best to stay quiet as the man smacked the woman. The man who brought the whisky was quick to set them down, and pull something from his coat.

"You whore, don't you know who we are?" One yelled, grabbing the woman by the hair.

[color=lightblue]"Now didn't your daddy's teach you how to treat women?"[/color] A man that sat with the small group stood up, lighting a cigarette casually as he stepped forward, waving out the match and lifting his head up to reveal emerald green eyes under his brown hat. 

"You best walk away now, stranger. She ain't worth your life." The whisky man growled. The green eyed man shook his head and laughed a bit. [color=lightblue]"Look's like they didn't. You see, women know that you have money, and power. That's why you're talkin' to them. No point in flaunting your pecker to someone who knows you have it."[/color] As he took a puff of his cigarette a few snickers were heard from the patrons, but it died down when the "womanizer" turned to face him. 

"Who the hell do you think you are, talkin' to the Dawson Gang like that--"

[color=lightblue]"Henry Leopold Adams, at your service."[/color]Leo cut him off, tipping his hat to the men. A small murmur formed among the people. Obviously his name was known around these parts.

"The Coyote? What the hell are you doin' around these parts?" The Whisky man squinted at him. [color=lightblue]"You fellas haven't heard? Richard Dawson's days are numbered. We're gonna hang him high in the streets for everyone to see."[/color] The two men laughed, and Leo joined in, tipping his hat up a bit to swipe the sweat off his brow.

"You think you can walk up to two of his best men, say that, and get away with it?"

[color=lightblue]"Well, when you put it like that I reckon I do. I don't think anyone here is a particular fan of Richard Dawson, especially when you didn't give the nice bartender his payment, you slap women all over the place, and you didn't even tip the musicians for playing such a great number."[/color] He pulled out an old coin from his jacket and flipped it towards the direction of the musician playing, and in the quick instant his other hand pulled out his silver revolver, fully loaded. [color=lightblue]"Don't try nothin' fellas. Dawson claims to be a man of God, but I know you two ain't. Let's take a walk outside. My friends and I don't want to get blood on this floor." [/color]

The two other party members managed to follow Leo and the two out of the Saloon, and into the blazing sun. [color=lightblue]"My friends and I are fully equipped to dissolve any action of escape you might think of, so don't do anything stupid! Bradley Grant, one of Dawson's gang leaders, and Mister Leonard Freemont, a fellow 'priest' and lawyer for the town of Dawson... You two aren't the first we've killed to get to Dawson, and you sure as hell won't be the last. Anything you want to tell your boss when we meet 'em?"[/color]

"You think you can waltz up to a man like Richard Dawson and kill him with just three people?"

Leo turned to look at Roxanne, and then Taheton. [color=lightblue]"We're an up and comin' business group. I'm sure a few applicants will arrive before we reach Mister Dawson."[/color] Leo said casually, gun still pointed at the two men in the dirt road. 

"You ain't gonna win, Coyote. And I don't think we'll be needin' those final words." Leonard Freemont said with a smile. 

[color=lightblue]"Why's that, 'Father'?"[/color] All he did was point behind them, and Leo turned to see at least six men on horseback riding towards them. All in the same fancy suits Bradley and Leonard were in. [color=lightblue]"Well, shit... 'Afternoon, gentlemen!"[/color] Leo called towards them, to which they all stopped and surrounded the group.

"What seems to be going on here?" The leader on horseback called out, looking at the scene in front of him. [color=lightblue]"Oh, just a nice conversation is all. We're workin' out a little dispute--"[/color] Leo started, but was soon cut off by Bradley Grant. "That Son of a bitch is the Coyote! Kill 'im!" 

With a quick shot to the chest from Leo's revolver, Bradley Grant fell to the ground, and the men stumbled to draw their weapons. Leo took this opportunity to get out of the circle, and find cover. [color=lightblue]"Looks like we got a firefight today, ladies and gentlemen!"[/color]

The hunt for Richard Dawson was officially on.