Anyway, my latest effort is a Western, set in 1900 Oklahoma territory and Chicago. This was a fascinating time (as most times are), yet this was especially so. The cowboys and the cattle drives were just starting to be replaced by refrigerated rail cars carrying dressed beef, rather than live cattle to be slaughtered in Chicago in the yards there.
I am basing the theme of the book on the Iliad and the Odyssey; this is another mythic time, like the Old West of the US, that constructed archetypes that remain with us of Western Civilization forever. And I say it again: Western Civilization- no apologies- it is the ultimate achievement, the shining light of the world! Present deluded politics be damned as idiots...
Anyway, here is Part One of this new book that is being written even as we speak!
Part 1
The judge cantered across his dry grasslands, his keen pale eyes scouring his property as he rode across what was the largest ranch in the Dorian area of Oklahoma territory. His ranch boss Adam Memnom rode beside him, always with his free hand near the butt of his scabbarded rifle.
This was still Indian territory, although the judge had wrested control of a large tract of it for his own huge ranch. Constant vigilance was needed though, and while Judge Menelaus sought out green patches of graze land for his cattle, Adam peered out to the horizon, seeking any hostile movement. His free hand always hovered near the butt of his scabbarded rifle as he rode, and he controlled the movement of his horse mainly by skillful leg pressure on the flanks, and by subtle shifts of balance. The horse knew instinctively thereby that Adam was his boss, just as Adam recognised the judge as his.
As the two stirred up dust in the hot sun, Adam thought of his girl, Chris. A fair-haired pioneer girl, she had moved out west with her parents, Will Seis and his wife Nel, who had a small ranch not far from the Judge’s vast holdings. He went out to see her most evenings, and was totally besotted with her. She was a beautiful girl, comely and modest, and he was just of an age where he wanted a wife. He smiled briefly at the thought, and reflexively looked in the direction of her homestead, off to the west- that is when he saw it.
There was a faint trail of smoke, and then the unmistakable sound of gunshots. An Indian attack- he spurred off on his horse instantly, and then heard the judge coming after him. Obviously, he too had seen or heard the sounds of the raiders.
It was a ways off to the Seis ranch, and Adam was cold with fear, while simultaneously hot with rage as he galloped furiously. The judge was just as intently riding immediately behind him, as both were excellent horsemen, easily the equals of the expert Indian warriors that were literally raised as youths amongst their horses. The dust flew from the flying hooves as the men clamped their hats down low on their heads to keep the wind from taking them.
Finally, they crested the last rise before their destination, looking down on the raiding band. It was a small group of young bucks, just out to ‘count coup’, to show each other how fearless they all were by harassing, stealing from, and otherwise teaching these invading whites that they hated them. Perhaps twelve braves, all on horseback, were circling the small ranch house, getting closer and closer, shooting and yelling as they did so. A few shots rang back from the window of the small house, but it was one gun against a dozen- and they were still quite a ways away!
As the Judge and Adam galloped down the long rise towards the ranch house, another figure charged across down below them. A large, muscular man on a huge black horse shot from the other direction, emerging from behind the barn.
He was dressed all in black, from his hat to his boots, and he came like an avenging thunderbolt towards the Indians, who had stopped circling the house, milling in confusion at the entry of this new interloper, interrupting their fun. The man in black held a long barreled revolver in each hand, and rode directly towards the raiding red men, firing relentlessly as he came!
With each shot, another Indian fell. They rallied, firing back, but they were indifferent marksmen, armed with ancient ball-and-flint weapons with smooth bores. They relied on riding right up close, then firing indiscriminately right alongside their victim- they knew not the skill of long distance marksmanship. In addition, the black horse had a type of dark armor on its flanks, and it appeared the man in black also had some type of armor covering his chest of a gleaming yellow metal.
But it was not only the fighting styles and the armor that was different. This was a mission to show how brave, how fearless these Indian warriors were to themselves, each other, and their tribe. And here was a lone white man- charging directly towards them- alone!
Now, he was almost atop them, and two of them- their nerve just broke. They rode away as fast as they could go, leaving the other six that remained to fight- and that is when the large black rider just rammed his large horse into the side of one of the much smaller Indian ponies, knocking it over into another horse and rider. And this is when those that hadn’t broke and run- wished that they had!
This was not just a white man on a horse- this was a near-god juggernaut atop a fearsome warrior beast that reared, stamped, and bit like a wolf; as the rider atop grinned in the sheer lust of death-dealing; his bright blue eyes gleaming as he shot, pistol whipped, and otherwise dealt awesome mayhem. The Indian youths, although fierce, were no match for him, none at all. They fell like ripe corn before the blade of a scythe, sacrifices to this veritable god of warfare.
As the judge and Adam approached at last, they witnessed a scene of carnage. “It’s A.K. Lee,” said the judge, but that was obvious. Marshall A.K. was a legend, the bogeyman that Indian mothers scared their children with. And now, the two witnessed first-hand just why the legend had been born.
Three Indians were left on horseback, and as they turned on their ponies to bolt away, they saw A.K. holster his pistols, out of ammunition, and ride up behind them. As the Indians aimed their pistols at him, AK was right upon them- holding a gleaming, long sword he had pulled from its sheath on the black flank of the vicious horse he rode.
Before they could react, he had stabbed one red raider through the heart, backhanded the blade out and into the face of another. Finally, he viciously cut at the last, who shot a ball that rang off his armored chest- and cut his black-haired head off cleanly at the neck.
Adam and the judge rode up then, and the black warrior turned. Both he and his steed were spattered with blood. He nodded to the two, and then looked upwards, where the two Indian escapees were disappearing up the rise to the north. With a grim smile, he spoke to Adam. “Let’s go get ‘em,” he said, and then the two rode off up the hill, their long-legged horses gaining rapidly on the Indian ponies. AK looked over at Adam, grinning. Adam grinned back, he had admired AK for years, following him around like a worshipful puppy. He only wanted to be like his hero, and now they were hunting Indians together!
While the judge and old Will Seis, his wife, and Chris all looked after them as they disappeared up the hill to the north, the judge said “Thank God he came along in time- we would have been too late I’m afraid.”
Chris, her beautiful face stained with tears of fear and - something more now- just said one thing. “Isn’t he wonderful??” Her parents assumed she was talking about Adam, her betrothed. But the judge, who had seen much more of the world, doubted. Her eyes were shining in a type of adoration.
The sun was just beginning to set when Adam and the Marshall AK Lee came riding down the hillside back to the ranch house. The judge and Will Seis had just finished piling the dead Indians up out of sight in the field. Chris and her mother were making coffee in the kitchen, along with ham and beans.
As Adam and the Marshall rode up beside the house, Will asked “Can you men give me a hand, a’ buryin those Injuns?”
AK asked “Do you have kerosene?”
Will considered, and answered in the affirmative.
“Then burn ‘em,” said AK. Even Adam looked a little startled, but the Marshall had dismissed any further discussion of such a non-issue. He smelled the air, and smiled a white-toothed grin. “Let’s eat! And have you any wine? Killing is thirsty business.”
As the bodies burned outside, Marshall AK Lee, Adam, the Judge and Will fell to eating at the kitchen table, while Nel and daughter Chris kept heaping the plates with ham and beans, along with corn muffins. Will and Adam drank coffee, but the Marshall drank from a bottle of wine copiously, pulling at it with undisguised relish.
“Yup, we killed those last two Injuns,” said Adam, obviously proud of himself. AK didn’t speak, busying himself with eating instead. He ate enough for three men, but Will and Nel didn’t begrudge him that- he’d obviously more than earned it. “Oh, AK- what’d you take those Injun scalps from those two for?”
Marshall AK looked at him grimly, saying “It’s the worst insult for them, and they deserved it- they were cowards, deserting their fellows. I want their people to find them, dead and scalp-less. It’s their ultimate insult.”
There was a pause. “But- where are they- what did you do with them?” Adam asked.
“I threw them on the fire with the rest of the corpses. Those men deserve at least an honorable burning- the deserters get what they earned- to rot on the ground and be devoured by animals.” With which saying, he served himself another plate of ham and beans.
Chris hovered over him, tending to his every need and want as best she could. AK seemed oblivious of the attention, but Adam certainly noticed, and he did not like it- not at all.
Finally, the judge and AK stood, announcing they had to go. “Helen will be waiting for me,” said the judge, and his eyes shone a bit at the prospect. For the judge, who was well along into middle age, had married pretty recently a much younger woman- a woman from out east, one who was known now to be the most beautiful in the territory. He was quite jealous as a result, and was reputed to be almost keeping her under lock and key.
As those two rode away, with the endless thanks and gratitude of the old couple ringing in their ears, Adam sat at the table alone, fuming. He watched as Chris fawned in the Marshall’s wake, looking up at him like an adoring puppy.
After Chris stood watching the retreating horsemen against the setting sun until they were no longer visible, she finally came back into the house, where Adam was waiting for her. She hardly noticed he was there, and announced to her parents that she was going upstairs to bed. Adam had a strong suspicion that she would not be dreaming of him that night!
1900 Chicago was a very far cry from the world of territorial Oklahoma indeed! Rising upwards and in motley congestion on the banks of lake Michigan, it was a crowded, smelly, yet amazing place. Alexander French just thought of it as home, and wouldn’t have dreamt of living anywhere else.
He worked for Swift and Company, who ran their stockyards on the south side of the city, along with Armour and others. But he rarely even visited those stockyards, which were horrid abattoirs of animal killing; hog, beef, and sheep. He concentrated on numbers, and on profits from those animals, and had a fashionable office downtown, in the first high-rise building in the world- The Home Insurance Building. It had an amazing 10 stories of height, and he had his office on the top floor!
Still a young man, he lived on the fashionable Gold Coast on Chicago’s near north side, in a beautiful stone row house of large proportions. A dandy, he was walking downtown on this beautiful day to his office, as the horses and carts trundled by down the crowded streets, using his cane to speed him along. A straw hat kept him sheltered from the hot sun, and he was smoking a candela cheroot as he strode along.
Just outside of his office in the Home Insurance Building, he was surprised to run into his employer, Gustavus Swift! A tall, white haired man with a beard, Gustavus was an imposing figure; besides being Alexander’s employer, he was one of the very richest men in Chicago, and the entire world. He peered at Alexander from under his own hat brim.
“I came up here specifically to task you with an important mission.” He was always direct, and to the point. “I need you to go out west, to Oklahoma territory to be exact.
This was the opposite of Alexander’s natural inclinations, as a dandified city dweller, the West was anathema to him! But, as a skilled politician/businessman, he hid his true feelings well. He smiled tentatively, and his boss Gustavus smiled a rare, brief smile in return. Then, he said just what Alexander did not want to hear: “Leave tonight!”
And so it happened that Alexander French was riding on the train out of Union Station in Chicago towards Kansas City, Missouri that very night. He had been told to meet with an important cattle supplier in Oklahoma territory, and was anticipating with horror a stage coach ride lasting for days from Kansas City to the Dorian area to meet with a Judge Menelaus, who was a major cattle supplier for the Swift company; to whom he was to ingratiate himself, and actually sell him on supplying his cattle, already slaughtered out there, and then sent back to Chicago in the new-fangled refrigerated freight cars that Swift had developed.
It really was a genius idea, and would save quite a bit on shipping costs to have meat, rather than live animals shipped back East… it was just this trip. Alexander French hated anything rustic, anything that he thought of as primitive.
And so, as the train rocked and rattled through the long night, he uneasily slumbered, sitting in his wooden-backed rail car seat. He took a number of trips into the dining car, where he could numb his discomfort with whiskeys. It helped, but not much.
Meanwhile, Adam Memnon had unsaddled his horse, and was walking into the ranch house with his boss, Judge Menelaus. It should have been a happy day for him; it certainly was for the judge, who was talking a mile-a-minute about how they had saved his girlfriend and her parents, thanks mainly to the great warrior AK Lee!
As the judge rattled on, in high spirits about the huge death toll, the normally happy Adam silently fumed. AK Lee, his hero until that day, had shown him up! And in front of Chris Seis too…
The two walked into the house, where the judge had suggested they have a drink or two, and tell Helen of the day’s adventures. The normally happy-go-lucky Adam was too silent, and at length even the self-absorbed judge noticed.
“What’s wrong with you, Adam?” he asked at last. “You are not yourself tonight.” He was concerned, a fatherly concern, since he was 30 years Adam’s senior.
“Well, it’s just that AK! Why does he have to- well- what makes him so great?!”
The judge stopped still, and laughed outright. “What makes him so great?” he chortled his old man laugh through his graying beard. “Because he’s the best warrior anyone has ever seen, that’s what!”
Still laughing, he pushed open the door to his home, while young Adam followed him into the spotless western kitchen, with its cast iron cookstove, and black iron pans hung about it. And standing there, in her prairie woman skirt against a completely rustic backdrop, stood the most radiant woman Adam, or anyone else, had ever seen!
Though he had seen her many times, she always took his breath away. She did that to anyone who saw her, and it never ceased to be a startling event. She was in her twenties, in her womanly prime, while her husband, Judge Menelaus, was easily in his fifties.
He glanced at the judge. Adam saw pure love and adoration suffuse his gray-bearded face, as he rushed to the side of his perfect wife. Adam looked on with a sort of interest like that of a scientist- she was almost too perfect; in fact, Adam Memnon felt no desire for her himself. She was beautiful, but almost like a perfect statue or painting; something too good for this world. Not really flesh and blood, more like a goddess.
“Welcome, Adam,” she said, in dulcet, musical tones. Her voice was cultured; definitely not of the wild west. Not like his Chris! Now she was a real woman! But with that thought, he instantly remembered his jealousy, how his betrothed had fawned over AK Lee. He knew it was crazy, but he couldn’t stop himself.
It should have been a wonderful evening, and it actually was, as long as Adam could stop himself from thinking about his girl. Helen tended to them beautifully, bringing them brandies and then remaining to chat, listening to their stories of the battle and the day’s events with undisguised interest. The judge and Adam smoked their cigars in front of the fireplace, drinking as the judge told every detail of the exploits of AK Lee, which only inflamed Adam all the more in his jealousy.
Helen looked at Adam, and when the tale had concluded, spoke to him with concern. “Chris Seis is a lovely, wonderful girl, Adam! Marry her soon- you don’t want anyone taking her away from you.”
Thinking of AK Lee, Adam just frowned, and said he had go to the bunkhouse for bed.
It had seemed like forever, but at last Alexander French had made it to the Oklahoma territory! From the first high-rise modern building in the world, he had traveled to the Wild West of Oklahoma, which was not even a state in the United States of America. He saw nothing out here he liked, except the possibility of profit- which, for a dandy like himself, who loved money and all it could buy- well, that was enough.
He found a coach that would take him out to the ranch of Judge Menelaus, and so he found himself rattling along down a dry, dusty path to the middle of nowhere. The driver, who was a loquacious fellow, talked on at length about the greatness of the judge, and how just the other day he had exterminated a bunch of low-down Injuns with AK Lee- but at some point, Alexander just tuned him out. ‘The sooner I get him signed up on this cattle deal, the sooner I can get back to city life!’ is what he was thinking.
With that thought came the vision of his current paramour, the lovely Rebecca, who had been courting back in Chicago. ‘Oh Rebecca,’ he thought, ‘what I would give to see you again!’ So he ruminated, until the rustic coach rumbled up to the stately log ranch house of Judge and ranch boss Menelaus.
Alexander jumped down, and after paying the driver ‘to leave and stop talking at last’ he thought, he walked up to the huge log doorway. He was about to knock, when the door swung open, and he saw what was the most important, amazing, and exciting vision of his entire life! Rebecca was instantly gone, swept from his mind, never to return.
There before him stood Helen.
Now, it was as if they had both been frozen in place. They just stared at one another, as if hypnotized. Helen, as you know, was a perfect woman, at least physically. She glowed, she shone, she sparkled like a goddess!
Alexander French was a dandy. He was anything but a man’s man- he was a citified pretty boy, to be exact. From his waxed pencil mustache, to his perfectly coiffed and oiled hair, he was just what was featured in the magazines of 1900 USA as the ideal of cultured manhood. The type of man who women doted on, and that men decidedly did not.
That’s when the judge Menelaus strode up, thrusting out his big hand to Alexander. He grinned. “So nice to meet you, Mr. French! I know it has been a long trip, how about a drink?”
As the two men settled down in the spacious, high-ceilinged living room next to the crackling fireplace, Helen entered that room carrying two large glass tumblers filled with brandy. In spite of himself, Alexander could hardly take his eyes off of her, although he did manage to keep up his end of the conversation with the judge.
Judge Menelaus even smiled slightly in acknowledgement; he was used to men and women too simply gawking at his wife. He knew that he certainly had, and had sworn to obtain her for his wife upon their very first meeting.
“So, I understand this proposal of the Swift meat packing company is to drive the cattle for slaughter over to Kansas, next to the railway line there. Then, your employer will ship the dressed meat back east, to Chicago and even further eventually,” said Judge Menelaus, peering within his glass to see how much he had left. He indicated to Helen that he needed a refill.
“Exactly,” replied Alexander French smoothly, as he took a delicate sip of the brandy. He was not much of a drinker, preferring port or sherry to hard liquor. “And I’m sure you can see the incredible profit potential of not having to drive the cattle all the way to market, and then shipping the live beasts before slaughter in Chicago. The whole civilized eastern cities are a vast market, all reachable by my- well our new refrigerated rail cars!” He smiled with even white teeth, and stroked his mustache as Helen glided by, refilling her husband’s empty glass. He spoke to the judge, but his smile was fully shown on Helen. She blushed as she poured.
The judge didn’t notice, he was totally taken with the idea of the incredible profits that were dangling before him! He could double, triple, and vastly expand the size of his operation, selling beef in quantities nearly limitless. His eyes glowed with cupidity the more he thought, and a large smile emerged on his rough-featured, gray bearded face.
“Well, Mr. French, we’ll have to talk to my attorney tomorrow, but I’m pretty sure that you and Mr. Swift will have a deal with me that will make us both very wealthy indeed!” He stood then, walking over to rest his booted foot on the hearth, seeming to see his future wealth within the flames. Draining his glass, he gestured again to his wife for a refill.
As she passed close by Alexander French, she looked down upon him with a smile that was just radiant. Alexander smiled back, as if he was intoxicated, and he was- just not with alcohol, as his drink was barely touched. He was overwhelmed, but not with the deal either.
“Mr. French,” said the judge then, holding out his glass for another refill, “I believe we will become great friends, for what better cements a friendship than the founding of a very profitable business venture?”
He had no idea just how wrong he was.
Marshall AK Lee was back at his own ranch. While not as big as that of the judge, it was a very well run, profitable enterprise. He had a small crew of ranch hands, and his ranch boss was his best friend in the world, the young Peter Klaus. Actually, Pete was more than a friend, he was almost AK’s adoptive son, his nephew; and so protective was the older man of the younger that he had chosen to mentor him. In addition, as a bachelor, AK had actually been given to thinking about taking a wife; and as he thought on it, the more appealing the notion of choosing Chris Seis appeared to him.
She might be considered a bit young for him, since he was in his early 30’s, while she was probably about 19, but then, look at the old Judge Menelaus! AK smiled at that, knowing the old goat was probably about 50 or better, and his young wife was about half that.
He spoke with Pete about it, as Pete even knew Chris from school, since they were the same age. Pete thought it a good idea, since he had a high opinion of Chris, and knew she was bright and energetic, aside from being very comely.
“All right, Pete,” said AK. “I just wanted your feedback, before taking such a big step. I think I’ll ride down and pay a visit to the Seis family tomorrow morning .
And so it was that AK found himself riding down on his big black horse, sans armor, for a simple social call. As he again approached the Seis place, he noticed that another horse was tied up outside- it was the brown roan owned by Adam Memnon. AK smiled, he had always liked Adam, although the kid was pretty hot-headed. And he had been eager in the fight earlier against those Indians. As a born warrior himself, AK appreciated the trait in others.
He rapped on the door, and it was opened quickly by Chris herself. She was fetching beyond belief, in her simple homespun dress, and when she saw AK standing there on her doorstep- her face lit up with joy!
“Oh, Marshall,” she cooed, almost fainting with delight. “Come in, please, do come in!” She backed away, allowing him room, while he strode inside.
There at the rough-hewn wooden table sat Adam Memnon, a cup of coffee before him. He did not look happy, not at all.
“Sit down, sit down,” said Nel Seis, who was already pouring the marshall a cup. “Our heroes return,” she said, putting the mug before AK. The chair creaked as he sat; the marshall was a very heavily muscled man.
“Hello, Adam,” said AK, eyeing the smaller, slim man with curiosity. “I see you’re visiting as well.”
At this point, Chris came up behind AK, and stood as close as she could to his chair. She was just about at his eye level as he sat, and she gazed at him with what was obviously besotted love. For without his hat, AK Lee was a very handsome man indeed, with waving longish blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. Even her mother Nel could hardly look away from him.
Adam didn’t answer, but he started burning with jealous indignation. AK just drank his coffee, pretending not to notice. He decided then that it would be best just then to leave, since he had no ill will towards Adam, and it was obvious the man was distraught. AK had had no idea that Adam had feelings for Chris Seis, none at all- but then, he rarely thought of such things.
AK stood, and while walking towards the door as Chris and her mother both ran after him to dissuade him from leaving, he stopped at the doorway. Looking back, he said “I just came for a visit, and to make sure you were still all right. Farewell.”
As AK rode away, he ruminated on his next actions. It was obvious that Adam, who he considered a friend, wanted Chris. While they were about the same age, Adam had no real claim upon her. He decided to go talk with the judge, who always had sound, practical advice.
The judge welcomed him into the vast log structure with delight. They sat in the large kitchen, next to the wood cook stove, upon which bacon and eggs were frying. “You are just in time for breakfast my friend!” said the judge.
Marshall AK Lee was a man of huge appetites, whether for battle or food, and he sat down with pleasure at the wooden board. “I am cooking today,” said the judge, cutting AK a huge slab of sourdough bread and slathering it with butter. He poured out two huge cups of coffee, and started dishing out the bacon and eggs onto two giant platters.
“Where is Helen?” he asked, as he helped himself to large bites of food, washed down with copious draughts of coffee. Not that he really cared, he was just trying to be polite. For, truth be told, he didn’t care much for Helen. She was perfect of beauty and form, true, but for some reason she irritated him.
The judge, who was really a wise man, looked at him and chuckled. He had long known that AK, unlike any other man around didn’t like his wife overmuch, and he had figured out why. “You are both too much alike, that’s why,” he said, mainly to himself. The marshall was enjoying his food too much to do more than half-listen. “The perfect man could never get along with the perfect woman.” He said it very softly. “Too much competition!”
“What’s that, judge?” said AK, grabbing another handful of bacon, and another slice of the bread. “Too busy eating to listen, I guess…”
The judge just smiled, replying with “Helen is entertaining a business guest- a Mr. French from Chicago. But, tell me why you are here? You always do things for a reason.”
And so, as they both ate, AK told the judge of his problem. Adam was besotted with the same girl that he wanted to marry, and since Adam was the judge’s own ranch boss, he wondered what he should do. AK always wanted to do the right thing, and sometimes he worried about it too much. This the judge knew to be true.
“Adam has no claim on the girl, and she is free to choose,” he said. “If you want her, I’d say take her- like I took Helen!” He looked incredibly satisfied as he said these words- Helen was his whole life, really, aside from his ranch.
This kind of bothered the judge- despite AK’s disinterest in Helen, Judge Menelaus had always been envious of the marshall. When he compared himself to him, he knew he wasn’t even in the same league as AK, not at all. The marshall had the looks, the strength, the warrior ethic- he liked the marshall, but envy is a strong motivator.
And so, after they had both eaten their fill, and the judge had filled AK in on his cattle-to rail business venture from Chicago, AK left. As he rode his horse over the dry plains, he headed back towards his own place. He was thinking of going in with the judge on the refrigerated rail car plan, when a shot rang out!
With a shudder, his great black horse slowly began to fall. AK leaped off, and noticed instantly that the bullet had gone right through the beast’s torso, probably to the heart. Another shot rang out, and the marshall, hiding behind the body of the dying beast, shot back towards an arroyo that snaked across the arid landscape nearby. He could tell that the shooter was hidden in that dry old creek bed, and he waited.
Suddenly, a man jumped up from where he had been hiding, and started running. His gun must have jammed. AK ran after him, his pistol forgotten- he wanted revenge- for his horse- and for the fact that this sniper was a coward, shooting at him from a blind. He was utterly possessed with rage.
He was closing in on the man, when a horse, tied to a small tree, appeared. The man leaped upon it, and turning his mount, rode directly at AK Lee! The horse reared above the marshall, flailing its hooves down at him like sharpened blades.
AK drew his pistol, and shot the horse in the face, toppling both horse and rider. The man on the ground was Adam Memnon, face twisted in wrath and frustration, as he lay pinned beneath his dead horse. AK was stunned.
“You were going to take my girl- the judge told me, just after you left! I couldn’t live without her, and you were going to take her- I hate you!”
AK Lee was stunned. Such unmanly behavior disgusted him, but what he really couldn’t believe is that the judge had told him. He had spoken in confidence, and this was the result? It was done without honor, and honor was the most important thing in the world to the marshall.
AK walked away, not looking back. He left Adam lying there, obviously with a broken leg, and headed towards his ranch. The man was beneath his contempt, and he left him to live or die beneath his dead horse. His faith in his fellow man was destroyed, and he went to his ranch to sulk. Despite the needs of his fellows, despite his great abilities- he would no longer help.
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