The three rebs whirled to face Pritchard, but not fast enough. He fired three times, and all went down. Sergeant Murphy weakly tried to raise his pistol from flat on his back, and Pritchard shot him between the eyes.

Pritchard ran through the church, which was quickly becoming consumed, and threw open the cellar doors. He was met with terrified faces.

“Everybody out!” he shouted. He began to usher people out of the cellar.

“Samuel!”

Ditch and Paul came running into the church. They, too, began to help escort the residents of Independence, Kansas, from the cellar. Within a few minutes, everyone was outside. Pritchard, Ditch, and Paul stood with the congregation and watched the church burn.

“Where were you boys when the fireworks were going off?” Pritchard asked, coughing.

“We were watching your shooting gallery from safely down the street,” Paul said. “We were afraid to get any closer, for fear you’d shoot us by mistake.”

“A wise move,” Pritchard said. “Any reb guerrillas left around?”

“None that I can see,” Ditch said. “About the time you killed more’n half of ’em, and unhinged the top of their commanding officer’s head, the rest decided to skedaddle. Can’t say as I blame ’em.” He noticed the remnant of Pritchard’s death-shadow still lingering on his friend’s face.

Pastor Greer approached Pritchard. “You did it, son. You delivered us.”

“I’m sorry for the loss of your church,” Pritchard said. “For what it’s worth, the money taken from your town’s bank is spread out on a card table down at the saloon. Maybe you can rebuild it?”

“Don’t worry on it too much,” the pastor said, beholding the inferno. “This was God’s will.”

“Iffen you say so,” Pritchard said.

“What now?” Paul asked.

“Yeah,” Ditch chimed in. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know about you fellers,” Pritchard said, “but I’m done soldiering. I’ve got no stomach for killin’ women and children. Besides, it seems to me, it don’t make no difference whether it’s Union blue or Confederate gray we soldier for. Both armies are lookin’ to kill us. I’m leavin’ Kansas a civilian.”

“Where will you go?” Ditch said.

“Reckon I’ll head further south,” Pritchard said, “and seek my fortune in Texas.”

“You want some company?” Ditch asked.

PART TWO - RANGER

PART TWO

RANGER

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Central Texas, May 1869

Pritchard crawled on his belly slowly to avoid disturbing the dry, sandy, dirt. There wasn’t much wind, and he didn’t want to create a telltale puff of dust that would reveal his movement and location. He kept one gloved hand hooded over the top of the spyglass’s lens to prevent a glint that might also give away his position.