Chapter 49: A Mother's Love
Johnny grinned wickedly, reached out, and yanked open the heavy flap of his tent.
Just as he'd expected, the scene he'd pictured was right there in front of him.
Delighted, he turned at once to fetch his camera.
Moments later he had the camera in hand; with a mischievous smile he framed the sight and pressed the shutter.
The sudden click startled Arthur awake from his deep sleep.
Blinking groggily, he spotted Johnny aiming the camera straight at him.
Rage flared—Arthur's eyes snapped wide. "Johnny, what the hell are you doing?" he barked.
But as he tried to leap up to teach the brute a lesson, the feel of the bedding beneath him seemed off.
He looked down and realized, to his shock, that he'd somehow crawled into someone else's bunk.
The discovery froze him; for a second he sat there dazed.
Still, his hands shot out, snatching for the camera, demanding the photo be deleted.
Instead of flinching, Johnny raised the freshly taken print with a triumphant wave. "Heh, Arthur—this picture means I've got you by the throat for life!" he crowed, spinning to bolt.
By then Hosea, who'd been sleeping nearby, had been roused by the ruckus.
A few exchanged shouts were all the old veteran needed to grasp the situation.
He rolled out of bed, pulled on his clothes, and stepped between the two to play peacemaker.
Thus began a three-way shouting match, each man talking over the others.
Words flew like bullets; no one would give an inch.
The verbal duel raged for a good ten minutes, ending only when Arthur—out of options—signed an unequal treaty.
The terms: Arthur would procure four weapons belonging to Gunslingers for Johnny, no deadline set.
Johnny strolled from the tent, beaming, utterly satisfied.
He sauntered to the camp's water wagon, hoisted a pail of clear water, and carried it to the trough.
Carefully he tipped the bucket, then headed for the haystack, hefted a large bundle, and laid it in the manger.
Detestable as Micah was, his "my dog" still had to eat.
Meanwhile, across the camp, Dutch flagged Arthur on his way to the chuckwagon and pressed a small novel into his hand.
Dutch's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Arthur! I have a plan. Take this book and photograph every page with your camera.
Today we'll turn those photos into a picture-strip right here in camp.
I reckon it'll be grand publicity—pull more eyes to this fellow."
With that Dutch strolled off toward breakfast, still smiling.
Arthur shook his head, feeling like the camp's overworked mule, but he tucked the book under his arm and followed.
The morning slipped past while Arthur hunched over sketches, turning photos into panels.
At one point he considered drafting the idle John to help—many hands make light work.
Then he recalled John's "soul-stirring" artistic talent and decided he'd rather finish alone.
Out beyond the wagons Johnny was taking shooting pointers from Dutch.
Side by side they stood before a big tree, pistols cracking, bark flying as bullets chewed the trunk.
Now and then they swapped tips, corrected stances, the air thick with powder-smoke and camaraderie.
Noon blazed overhead, baking the earth.
After a solid morning's labor Arthur at last presented the finished strip to Dutch.
Dutch reached for the notebook; Arthur held it back, grinning slyly. "Hey, Dutch—this cost me a brand-new quarter. You footing the bill?"
Dutch blinked, sighed, and dug in his satchel.
He produced a silver dollar and handed it over, already thumbing through the sketches. "Happy now, Arthur?"
Arthur pocketed the coin without hesitation, mouth opening for further verbal jabs—
—when hoofbeats and shouting erupted outside camp.
Everyone turned to see a rider vault from his horse and sprint in.
It was Lenny, panting, face white with fright. "Arthur! Dutch! Micah's killed a man in Strawberry—law's got him!"
Still gasping, he rattled on: "They… they near hanged me too! I ran like hell…" He gulped air. "And Micah's set to swing—soon! We've got to move!"
"Good riddance—the fool asked for it," Arthur sneered.
"Johnny! Ride to Strawberry and fish him out," Dutch ordered, seeing Arthur wouldn't budge.
Johnny agreed at once; after all, it was part of his own plan.
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