An Altercation

It is late when the man who called Chiane a nigger leaves the saloon. His name is Tom Jenkins, a man who owns one of the local farms in the area. He is with two of his ranch hands as he stumbles down the street. He has spent all his money and his friends have decided they don't want to drink with him or his boys anymore now that they are broke.

“Just a minute boys,”Tom slurs,”I have to shake the dew off my lily…”With that, Tom staggers over to a water trough and begins to relieve himself into it. His ranch hands snigger as Tom sways on his feet, missing the trough with his piss more than he is hitting it.

“I'm sick of that little darkie walkin' around like she owns the town.”Tom complains as he shakes the last of his piss off.”…Sheriff shouldn't be letting her walk around with a gun anyhow…”

Tom's ranch hands grunt in agreement, then he continues,”What that little bitch needs is a good hate-fuck put into her…learn her lot in life.”

From out of nowhere, A man appears, His face covered with a kerchief and his hat pulled down low.”Hey Asshole…” the shadowy figure calls out quietly.

Tom wheels on the man, squinting in the darkness in an attempt to see who it is.

“Cody?…I told ya inside, I've no more money left.” Tom pulls out his pockets to prove his point.

The figure steps closer and in a soft voice filled with hate, he states,”I don't want ya ta buy me a drink…I got a message for ya.”

Tom cocks his head and frowns,”I don't know you…who are you?”

The answer comes with lightening quickness as the fist of the stranger smashes into Tom's nose. Tom lets out a muffled grunt and his hands fly to his face as he staggers back from the blow. A rush of blood flows through his hands from his freshly broken nose.

Tom's ranch hands move to take the man but the sound of metal whispering on leather is heard and then faster than a cat, The fat barrel of a pistol is in the faces of the ranch hands.

”I think it would be best if you boys just stood down,”The disguised man cautions,”I'd hate to have to vent ya over a piece of shit like this.”

The shadowy man looks down at Tom,”…Last time I checked, Asshole, Men are to treat ALL ladies with respect…” A hard toed boot catches Tom in the bread basket and sends him to his knees.

Tom's boys wince at the second blow but the unholster pistol seems to be enough to keep the two young men at bay.

“You can't do this,”Tom snuffles,”The Sheriff…”

“The sheriff is nowhere to be seen right now, Fuckhead.”The stranger states bluntly,”…but I am. So ya better heed my words well. If I ever hear you treating a lady with disrespect again, You and I will have some business together…and I deal in lead.” The man pauses for effect then asks,”Am I understood”?

Tom only stays bent over, trying to catch his breath from the kick to the stomach.

The dark man seems to need an answer so he takes a boot heel and grinds it into the prone rancher's hand.”I said, am I understood?”

“Yes…” Tom whimpers in childish pain.

The unknown man gives a nod and backs a step or two away as his gaze moves to the two ranch-hands

“Pick this piece of shit up and get him out of here.”the vigilante instructs.

The two boys hesitate, fearing the big hand cannon that is pointed at them. Then they timidly move to there coughing and sputtering boss and bring him to his feet.

“you'll pay for this.” Tom threatens weakly as His ranch hands lead him away.

The disguised man watches them go until they disappear then he himself melts back into the shadows.

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