All three took Henry rifles from their saddle scabbards and ensured the tubes were fully charged with fifteen rounds each. They finished by stuffing their pockets with cartridges.

“How do you want to play this?” Ditch asked Pritchard.

“I’m going to the Atherton Arms, to visit with Burnell and get Ma,” he said.

“I’m going with you,” Ditch said.

“Paul,” Pritchard continued, “you and Idelle take our horses, get back to the schoolhouse, and wait for us. The schoolhouse is built solid and backs up against the woods. Hide the horses there. We shouldn’t be too long. If we aren’t back in an hour, you and Idelle ride to Kansas City and catch the first train out of Missouri.”

“I don’t want to go back to the schoolhouse,” Idelle protested. “I want to go with you, Samuel.”

“Not a chance,” Ditch answered before Pritchard could. “I want you safe. Get back to the Nettleses’ place, pack what you can’t live without, and be ready to ride.” She nodded.

Pritchard, Ditch, and Paul shook hands.

“You boys ready to be welcomed home by the town of Atherton?” Pritchard asked.

“Let’s make ’em regret what they done to us,” Ditch said.

To his surprise and hidden delight, Idelle, without warning, hugged Ditch again. “Be careful,” she said. Then, to his utter amazement, she kissed him.

“Get going,” Pritchard told her, shaking his head.

Pritchard and Ditch watched as Paul and Idelle mounted, took Rusty’s reins, and rode out of the livery.

“You ready for this?” Ditch asked, as he cycled his Henry’s lever and topped off the magazine.

“Ready as hell,” Pritchard said, levering the action of his own rifle.

They walked out of the livery, toward the town square, with their rifles held across their chests. Despite the fact that it was approaching suppertime, and Atherton should have been bustling with activity, there wasn’t a soul to be seen.

The Texas rancher and Texas Ranger scanned both sides of the street as they made their way towards the Atherton Arms Hotel. They felt the countless eyes of the townsfolk upon them, from within the buildings, and searched for those that might be watching from behind a gun.

Suddenly a marshal stepped from around a corner and leveled a rifle. In a flash, Pritchard shouldered his Henry and fired. The lawman fell dead on the sidewalk.

“Looks like they ain’t even gonna try to arrest us,” Ditch said.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Pritchard said, levering his rifle.

Another hat and rifle popped up above the mercantile, two stories above them. Ditch fired, levered his carbine, and fired again. The deputy tumbled down to the street, his gun landing next to him.

As they approached the saloon, three men, two with rifles and one with a pistol, came out shooting. Another broke out a tavern window and began shooting from inside.