He looked inside the kitchen door and called out, “You ladies wanna come on out here for a minute?” They promptly came out the kitchen door, both looking somewhat concerned. “I’m fixin’ to drag his body over by the stable with the other two. It’s kinda late now, so I expect I’ll have to see Fred Carver in the mornin’ to have him pick ’em up. I’ll pay him for it, so don’t you worry about payin’. Before I drag this one away, you might wanna go through his pockets to see if he’s carryin’ anything valuable. I expect you’re gonna need some cash if you’re really gonna run this saloon.” They eagerly jumped to the opportunity. As Hawk expected, Booth was carrying several hundred dollars. He figured the Quakers could spare that contribution. As the women were gleefully counting the money, Hawk said, “I think he’s got a pocket watch. That’ll be worth something. I’m gonna take one of those horses in the corral for a packhorse, but I’m leavin’ the rest of ’em with you. They oughta be worth a little money, especially that big black one he rode. The saddle oughta bring a good price, too.”

* * *

He walked in the dining room soon after it opened in the morning. “Good morning, John Hawk,” Martha greeted him. “Looks like you’re getting an early start.” She had glanced out the window when he rode up and noticed the packhorse. “You leaving town again?”

“I expect so,” Hawk replied, “after I make a few stops here this mornin’.” He gave her a smile and added, “The first one, and most important, was to stop here for some coffee and the best breakfast in the territory.”

She left to fetch his coffee, passing Sophie on her way out of the kitchen with a stack of plates. “Well, good morning,” Sophie sang out. “I wondered who Martha was talking to.” She placed the plates on the long table in the center of the room, then came back to visit with him. “Whatcha got good to say for yourself?” she asked playfully.

“Nothin’ much,” he answered, “except I’ll be leavin’ town after I make a few stops after breakfast.”

The smile on her face seemed to freeze in place and she shook her head as if perplexed. “Gone again, skip to my Lou,” she slowly recited the words to a popular children’s song. “You think you’ll be back this way anytime soon?” This time her tone was serious. At least, it seemed so to him, but he wasn’t sure. He never was about her.

“To be honest, I don’t know for sure. I get up this way every chance I get. I just don’t get as many chances as I want.”