Pritchard placed the rifle’s front sight on the neck of a large tom, intending for a head shot. A .54 caliber ball could do a lot of damage. He wanted a clean kill and as much of the bird’s meat intact as possible.

Though only a few days shy of his eighteenth birthday, Samuel Pritchard was very big, like his father. He stood well over six feet and, also like his father, possessed a powerful physique born from a lifetime of cutting, loading, and hauling lumber. Thomas Pritchard took pride in the fact that his son was one of the strongest youths in Jackson County. Had he known Samuel was also one of the best rifle shots, which he didn’t, he’d have been furious. Skill with a gun was something the elder Pritchard frowned upon.

Most of the men in the county, some even as young as Samuel, had already volunteered and gone off to fight on one side or the other. Ditch’s older brother Paul was a Confederate volunteer, and last anyone heard was serving with Shelby’s Missouri Iron Brigade somewhere in Arkansas.

Those who hadn’t volunteered had been conscripted by the Union. The Enrollment Act, passed the previous March, required all males age twenty and above to join the Federal army. Thomas Pritchard hoped the war would end before Samuel attained conscription age. Should the war still be raging, however, he had more than hope to keep his son from participating. Thomas Pritchard had a plan.

Though Samuel didn’t know it, it was his father’s intention to buy out his enlistment. This practice was legal, and would be carried out by paying a local family to have their son enlist in his place. There was no shortage of impoverished families with boys of eligible age in Jackson County who would welcome the cash money Thomas Pritchard would pony up to keep his own son out of harm’s way. If that didn’t work, Thomas had a backup plan; he could pay to have Samuel’s enlistment commuted. This would be far more expensive, but could be accomplished by direct payment to the district provost marshal who headed the local Federal enlistment board.

The Federal district provost marshal, hotel and saloonkeeper Burnell Shipley, also happened to be Atherton’s mayor. An easier man to bribe didn’t live in Jackson County.

In the meantime, Thomas Pritchard was careful to remain neutral. He refused to publicly take sides and kept his family, especially his son, from doing the same.

Tensions were high along the Missouri River since the “War of the Rebellion,” or the “War of Northern Aggression,” as it was called, depending on which side you favored, began. Folks in Jackson County were split down the middle into which camp they fell, with the greater number of rural residents siding with the South, and the majority of Atherton’s townsfolk aligning with the North.