The White Buffalo Page #3

Doesn't make any sense.

No sane Indian would ride the warpath

in this kind of weather.

No sense at all, not even for a Sioux.

Well, they ain't worried about it none.

Why should you?

Giddyap there, come on.

Giddyap. Come on. Giddyap.

Well, there she is, partner. Fetterman!

Metropolis of the Bozeman Trail!

Prettier than a nine teat sow, ain't she?

Giddyap up there!

Giddyap, there.

...up there, Amos.

What in hades hell you hauling back there?

Couple of buff hunters.

Who beefed them?

Each to other.

After they made glass

out of two quarts of Old Crow.

This one with the grey socks,

said he'd been charged by a white buff,

back in the Black Hills

near the Elk Mountains.

This one with the moccasins,

allowed as how this one

was a fork tongue lying a**hole.

Well, the last white spike

was put in a hole

down on the Cimarron last month.

Amen.

When you get through planting them two,

I got three more customers

for you inside the coach.

And I believe they've got enough money

to pay for their own boxes.

Right kindly of you, Abel.

You better lay 'em out

in the snow till I get back.

Keep 'em fresh.

You think that buff hunter

really did see a white spike?

No! Most likely just Sioux smoke

to keep the whites

from gold hunting in them hills.

Will you look after my plunder

while I find a place to roost?

There's only one place to roost.

Mrs. Schermerhorn's.

God Almighty, the cats!

Hope they're all right.

Yeah. You know, this bad-eyed geezer

gave me ten dollars

to scare up all the stray cats

I could find in Cheyenne.

Would this geezer sporting a bad eye

go calling himself Charlie Zane?

Yeah, that's the bastard. You know him?

I know him.

You can warm your behind at the stove.

Like some coffee?

It's strong enough to float a Colt.

I'd be forever in your debt, ma'am.

Never mind the fancies.

I'm Mrs. Schermerhorn.

My pleasure.

Do I know you?

James Otis, ma'am.

Don't know any Otis.

But you sure as sin remind me of...

Turn around!

Poker Jenny, I believe.

Bill!

You four-flushing son of a b*tch!

You cold decked me.

If you ain't a sight for a widow in weeds!

I always could get you

mounted fast, couldn't I?

Such talk!

How long ago was it

when we pleasured in Hays City, huh?

Seems like forever, Cateyes.

It's been that way for me, too, Jen.

Well, tell me, what

brings you up in this neck, huh?

Custer's gold.

Yeah.

Well, there's a heap up

in those Black Hills.

I'm starving you to death, Cateyes.

You wait right here.

Guess you heard about me and Lucas

Schermerhorn getting noosed, huh?

Just about the same time

I heard you were a widow again.

Don't be a bastard.

Lucas was a lucky man, Jen.

Thank you, Cateyes.

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