As the dust settled, a sliver of dawn crept over the horizon.

  On the nearby train, passengers were celebrating their escape, and the rescued women wept with relief.

  Stephen, atop his horse, stretched languidly, facing the sunrise.

  What a night!

  He was uninjured but worn out. Thankfully, he'd slept along the way, so his spirit remained quite full.

  "Ha! I knew someone would have the guts to take on the O'Driscoll gang! It's you, kid."

  A man in a Sheriff's uniform approached. Stephen dismounted to greet him.

  "Sheriff Sam! Are you on duty at Riggs Station today?" Stephen greeted him with a smile.

  Sheriff Sam, from Strawberry, and Stephen had a good working relationship due to their professions.

  They were good, having cooperated many times, almost comrades.

  "Yep, happened to be patrolling around Riggs Station last night and stayed the night."

  Sheriff Sam chuckled. "Looks like it wouldn't have mattered if I had or not."

  "Nonsense! Your timing was impeccable." Stephen said with smile.

  American law enforcement always tends to arrive late, once the crime has ended, that has become the custom.

  Sheriff Sam had elevated their average response time with arriving just before the case had ended.

  Sheriff Sam picked up on Stephen's meaning. He laughed, "I was coming as soon as I heard the gunfire, but I couldn't just charge in with a few deputies. That would be irresponsible."

  "I understand," Stephen said, shrugging.

  "So, where are you headed?" Sheriff Sam produced a pack of cigarettes, offering Stephen one.

  Stephen accepted, lit it, took a satisfying drag, and said, "I'm exhausted, thinking of a vacation in Blackwater."

  "That doesn't sound like you." Sheriff Sam grinned. "A guy like you takes vacations?"

  "Why not?" Stephen asked, feigning hurt. "I'm human, too. I need a break, you know."

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "Then go. Good time to relax." Sheriff Sam inhaled deeply. "Things have been rough recently. With the Blackwater mess, we're on high alert here."

  "The Van der Linde gang's job?" Stephen asked curiously.

  Sheriff Sam nodded, looking weary. "Those guys are crazy. Not only did they steal $150,000, but they also caused a massacre in Blackwater. Dozens are dead that I know of."

  "And those were just civilians, cops, Pinkertons, and bounty hunters. The casualties among those guys are much higher."

  Stephen smoked in silence.

  Sheriff Sam took out a stack of small cards, then a pen, scribbled on one, and handed it to Stephen.

  "What's this?" Stephen asked, taking the card, and seeing the words, "Transit Permit".

  "Blackwater's crawling with cops and Pinkertons. Everyone going in and out is being checked." Sheriff Sam smirked. "Without that, someone like you won't get in."

  He gestured to Stephen's long knife and rifle, implying that carrying them would draw extra scrutiny.

  "I'm the Sheriff of Strawberry, so being from the same state, my permits have some weight in Blackwater."

  "Thanks." Stephen nodded. "I owe you one."

  "Forget it. Just cut me a deal on a future bounty. Our dear Mayor won't allocate much funds for crime fighting due to his tourist town plans." The sheriff threw up his hands in resignation.

  As they spoke, the cleanup wrapped up, and the mounted police led away the remaining bandits.

  "Oh, and when you get back, interrogate them for me. See if any of them know where Colm is." Stephen clapped the sheriff on the shoulder.

  "Alright, I'll keep an ear out." Sheriff Sam waved goodbye and left.

  Watching the police depart with their captives, Stephen prepared to leave too.

  He spurred his horse to action and no sooner when Maria Ivanova caught up with him.

  "Hey, give me an address, and I'll send you a new gun when I get back." She called to Stephen's back.

  "Strawberry. Just send it to Strawberry." Stephen shouted back without turning around, and galloped off.

  The train couldn't reach Blackwater; after Riggs Station, he had to ride a long way.

  Stephen rode his horse slowly across the Dakota River.

  That river marked the border between Strawberry and Blackwater. Crossing it meant he was in Blackwater territory.

  Blackwater was the largest town in these parts of the state besides Saint Denis.

  Connected to the Flat Iron Lake, Blackwater linked to Mexico in the south, and he could even travel the waterways all the way to the Pacific.

  The sprawling waterways had made it the freight center of the West, and merchant ships arrived daily.

  But now, the bustling town was thick with tension.

  Stephen barely crossed the river before several patrolling cops swarmed him.

  Seeing Stephen's long guns, they surrounded him immediately.

  "This is a transit permit signed by the Strawberry Sheriff. I'm a good guy."

  Facing the nervous cops pointing their guns at him, Stephen reluctantly raised his hands.

  "I have a permit. It's in my shirt pocket. I'm using my left hand to slowly take it out."

  Under the cops' gaze, he pulled out Sheriff Sam's permit and proof of his bounty hunter identity.

  A leading cop walked over slowly, cautiously checked the documents, then relaxed and waved for his partners to lower their weapons.

  "There's been a horrendous massacre in Blackwater, so we have to be careful."

  The man locked eyes with Stephen and asked with a firm voice, "What's your purpose in Blackwater?"

  "Vacation." Stephen answered without hesitation. "Bounty hunters need rest too, so I wanted to find a lively place to enjoy a drink."

  The cop studied Stephen intensely. Seeing no obvious signs of trouble, he waved to let him pass.