//-------------------------------------------------------// The Gun Belt on My Wall -by Starreaper088- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Wild West. //-------------------------------------------------------// Wild West. Applejack stared out the buggy window at the passing country side. She had been on the road for the better half of two days. She was traveling from the city of Ponyville, Kentucky to somewhere in Missouri. Her family had asked her to go and see a man about a possible business expansion. Big Mac, her brother, was looking for more land. He heard of a man out in Missouri that wasn't at his farm much, he wanted the land. So Aj was sent alone with $200 to be spent on the land, plus $50 for the trip and food and a place to sleep at night. She just watched and waited for the trip to be over. Suddenly the buggy stopped and the driver opened her door. “Ma’am we may be in trouble, see up the road there seems to be a dispute between the law and a gang, they’re heading this way.” Aj gasped, she was about 90% sure she was going to die. She was a lady of the farm, she was tough but a gang shoot out was more than she could handle. At that moment a gunshot rang out and many more followed it. Hooves struck earth as the outlaws galloped from the area with rangers in hot pursuit. One saw the buggy and circled around it, he shot the man in the head earning a loud scream from the women next to him. He grabbed her and pulled her up. He yelled for his gang to stop as he put a gun against her head. The Rangers stopped and dismounted. “Easy there boy, that lady ain’t got nothing to do with this. Just let her go” said the head of the rangers. As they set their weapons down a crack of a pistol rang out from close by. The round went through the outlaw farthest to the rights head. Before anyone could react another two outlaws fell. The bandit holding Applejack was struck by a .45 S&W round. As they fell off the horse up walked a tall well-built man in a green poncho and a low brimmed hat. In his hand was a Schofield .45 S&W. He walked up and looked at the last outlaw and motioned toward the ground. The outlaw went for his six shooter and caught a .45 round in the chest. The man spun the revolver around his trigger finger once forward then twice back before shoving it into his gun belt. The rangers went up to him and asked his name. “Warren. Warren Selfridge.” He said shaking the man’s hand. “And I have a bounty letter here for this gang and the man laying down over there by the name of John Rodriguez.” Warren said pointing to the man who he shot first. He pulled out a sheet of paper with a picture of the man with his name and a small description of his deeds on the bottom. ‘John Rodriguez and Gang: Wanted for murder, robbery, cattle rustling, and attempted robbery. A sum of $7500 is to be paid for the death or capture John, $1400 is to be paid for each member of the gang. Signed by Judge Henry Johnson.’ The rangers just looked at the man. “In short here, you owe me… Thirteen thousand, five hundred dollars. I’m now also the legal owner of these horses so I’ll sell them in your town and I believe that the carriage company of one Lousville should know that one of their drivers is dead, so I would be asking to use your telegram station to call them and I figure a reward for the return of the carriage will be issued so I’ll do that as well.” Said Warren adjusting his rifle gloves and inspecting his boots and spurs. The rangers just looked at him. “Also that little lady down there’s father will want her home now so I’ll take her too and her father will probably reward me. I’ll be busy… May we please head out now? I’ll meet you in town after I hitch these horses to the carriage.” Warren said walking toward the horses and grabbing the reins. He pulled the young lady up and motioned toward the buggy. He tied the horses to the back of the buggy and got on the front. He then headed toward the town. He stopped at the Marshal’s office and walked in; after several minutes of talking and messaging the carriage company. After two hours of this he eventually went out, with his satchel being weighed down by the newly added money. As he walked out the girl was standing next to the horses. Warren walked over and grabbed the reigns and led them to the stables nearby. He got about $800 for the lot, they weren't particularly good horses. They were mostly just infested chestnuts. As he put the money away and went to climb on the carriage. “Well get in lady, I’m not waiting all day.” He told her. “Who are you?” she asked sitting next to him on the front. “You heard me tell my name to the rangers. Warren Selfridge.” He said flatly snapping the reins. She gave him an agitated look. “I mean who you are as in: why did you kill four men, save me, collect a bounty, return a buggy and sell horses? No normal person does that.” “I never claimed to be normal… My name is Warren Selfridge, I’m a rancher from Kentucky. I moved here after an accident in Ohio. I've token up bounty hunting, it keeps me fed… well actually my rifle does that. I saved you because it was the right thing to do, I sold the horses because I have no use for them. I’m returning the carriage because it’s the right thing to do. I’m returning you because it isn't safe for your kind out here.” He told her looking into the distance. She couldn't believe what he just said. “So because I’m a women I don’t belong in the west? I’ll have you know I've killed ten men.” She lied to him hoping he’d take it. “Hmm…” he pulled his revolver and gave it to her. “Then shoot the man coming up the road.” He said looking at a man on horseback. She looked up at the rider and couldn't believe what he just said, like killing him would be nothing. She pulled the revolver up and looked at him. He was almost to them, she pulled the revolver up and aimed. She pulled the trigger and… nothing happened. Warren was bellowing with laughter. “It is a single action! You have to pull back the hammer.” Warren said almost falling over from laughter. “Well… least I don’t smell like horse patties!” she said turning away and handing him back his revolver. He put it back in his holster and pulled the reigns to the left, off the road. She gave him a look. “What are you doing?” She asked. “Suns going down, and I ain't gonna ride all night. So I’m setting up a camp, but you can sleep in the carriage, uh your majesty.” He told her bowing slightly. He got up and pulled a sleeping bag off of his horse’s saddle. He saw a small tree and chopped it down with a hatchet from his saddlebag. A fire warms the body and the mind.