"Hey mister! Stick 'em up!"

For most of the trip, Taylor had kept his silence. Barnabus Johnson. Bounty hunter. That was all anyone else in the party was to know of him. After a while he had gotten to know the names of the others: Billy, Finney, Big Knife/Mistycow/Mistheekou/whatever (he was never very good at Indian names and never bothered to get better), and Sergio. He was going on a train ride with a bunch of strangers, leaving the gold behind at Sweetwater, to escort some big-ass mining contraption for a couple of dollars. All he had on him was his repeater, Buck and Belle, and a bag full of rations and some spare traveling things. All that time away from the gang had really fried his brains. Oh, well. He knew the drill. Keep quiet. Stay alert. And be ready to shoot your way out of this fools' errand if you had to.

Oh, if only that applied to small children. 

"Git off me, kid." He crudely slapped the toy gun from the boy's hand. "Scram, before I [i]eat[/i] ya!"