"Medicine Bow."

"That's the town."

"I know."

"Where the sheriff is."

"I know."

"You're not making sense."

Silas looked toward the rising sun.

"We need someone else."

"Who?"

Silas hesitated.

"An old friend."

They continued toward Medicine Bow.

By midmorning, the town appeared in the distance.

Smoke rose from chimneys.

A train whistle sounded.

People moved along the main street.

Abigail began to relax.

Silas did not.

He noticed the horse tied outside the sheriff's office.

The saddle carried the black diamond brand.

Strake.

Silas stopped.

Abigail looked at him.

"What?"

Silas pointed.

She saw the horse.

Her face went pale.

Then they saw a poster nailed to the sheriff's office.

Silas rode closer.

He read it.

His expression hardened.

WANTED.

SILAS MERCER.

KIDNAPPER.

ARMED AND DANGEROUS.

Abigail stared.

"They're blaming you."

Silas nodded.

"That was fast."

The poster claimed Silas had abducted Abigail Hartwell and murdered two men during his escape.

None of it was true.

But the paper carried an official seal.

People believed official seals.

A man on the boardwalk recognized Silas.

His eyes widened.

He whispered something.

Others turned.

The rumor spread.

The South Pass Ghost.

The name moved through town like wind through dry grass.

Silas pulled his hat lower.

"Come on."

"Where?"

"Stable."

They rode toward the railroad tracks.

There, hidden behind an old livery building, stood a weathered stable.

Silas dismounted.

Abigail followed.

Inside, the smell of hay and leather filled the air.

Then a voice spoke from the darkness.

"Didn't think I'd ever see you again."

Silas froze.

A man stepped forward.

He was older, gray-haired, and carrying a U.S. Marshal's badge.

Jonah Bell.

Silas stared at him.

"You're alive."

Jonah smiled.

"So are you."

Abigail looked between them.

"You know each other?"

Jonah laughed.

"Know him?"

He looked at Silas.

"Miss Hartwell, this man saved my life."

Silas shook his head.

"Once."

"Once was enough."

Jonah listened to everything.

When Abigail finished, he opened his coat.

"Do you still have the papers?"

She nodded.

Jonah's expression became serious.

"Then Gideon Strake is finished."

Silas frowned.

"If we can prove they're real."

Jonah nodded.

"And if we can keep you alive long enough to prove it."

Outside, a crowd was forming.

Gideon Strake had arrived in Medicine Bow.

And he had brought six armed men with him.

Gideon Strake did not look like an outlaw.

That was what made him dangerous.

He wore an expensive black coat despite the heat. His boots were polished. His silver watch gleamed beneath his vest. His horse was worth more than most ranchers earned in a year.

He was a man accustomed to being respected.

More accurately, he was accustomed to being obeyed.

When he rode into Medicine Bow, the sheriff came out to greet him.

The two men shook hands.

Several townspeople watched.

Abigail saw them from inside the stable.

"They know each other."

Jonah nodded.

"Very well."

Silas looked through a crack in the wooden wall.

"How many?"

"Six ranch hands," Jonah said.

"Eight."

Jonah looked at him.

"Eight?"

"Two more behind the store."

Jonah smiled.

"Still counting."

"Always."

Gideon dismounted.

He looked toward the stable.

He knew Abigail was somewhere nearby.

He also knew Silas was there.

That bothered him.

He had heard the stories.

Everyone had.

But Gideon had never believed them.

Legends were useful because frightened people created them.

He believed Silas was simply an aging gunfighter who had survived longer than he deserved.

Gideon walked into the sheriff's office.

"Where is she?"

The sheriff shrugged.

"We're searching."

"You'd better find her."

"Of course."

Gideon leaned closer.

"And find Mercer."

The sheriff nodded.

Outside, the crowd grew.

By noon, almost everyone in town knew Abigail was alive.

They also knew Gideon wanted her.

What they didn't know was why.

Then Abigail stepped out of the stable.

Silas tried to stop her.

She shook her head.

"I'm done hiding."

Jonah looked at her.

"You understand what you're doing?"

"Yes."

She walked into the street carrying the leather satchel.

The crowd became silent.

Gideon saw her.

His expression changed.

"Miss Hartwell."

"Gideon."

"You've caused considerable trouble."

"You caused it."

He smiled.

"You're frightened."

"No."

"You should be."

Abigail raised the satchel.

"These papers say otherwise."

The crowd murmured.

Gideon's eyes hardened.

"You don't understand what you're holding."

"I understand perfectly."

She opened the satchel.

"Property transfers."

"Private business."

"Forged signatures."

Gideon laughed.

"You have no idea what you're accusing me of."

A rancher stepped forward.

"My name is on those papers."

Everyone turned.

The rancher was Thomas Miller.

He removed his hat.

"I never sold you my north pasture."

Gideon stared.

Thomas continued.

"You took it."

Another man stepped forward.

"So did you with mine."

Then another.

Soon the crowd began speaking.

Years of quiet anger surfaced.

Gideon looked toward the sheriff.

"Do something."

The sheriff reached for his revolver.

Jonah stepped forward.

"Don't."

The sheriff froze.

Jonah opened his coat.

His badge caught the sunlight.

"Deputy U.S. Marshal Jonah Bell."

The sheriff's face changed.

Gideon stared.

"You're interfering in a local matter."