The first light of day beamed through the small milky pane on the jailhouse window. A narrow white line fell across the corner of Jon Stoudenmire’s oak desk. It was eerily quiet at the jail. Slim Wilson’s suicide hung over the room like a bad dream. Jack and Ed were down at Auggie’s. Camp was at the stables. Jon was alone with his thoughts and he knew what was coming. The telegram the night before had mentioned Judge Oliver as a passenger on the stage. Of course, he didn’t tell Neslteroad, but he now knew that Oliver was coming. He looked out at the tranquil street, not sure how many would die this day, but knew that blood would flow. When Faraday found out it was Judge Oliver, he and his men would try to leave town; Jon would have to stop them; several could die. He prayed silently for the well being of his brave friends, Ed, Camp, and Jack. All of whom would be with him ’til the very end, he knew that. He tried hard, but couldn’t think of Libby; the emotions were too strong.
He thought of how Alex Faraday and Clive Cook had fooled the fine people of Logan’s Crossing. He thought of the murders of Jed Orton and Little Bear and the attempts on Jack Malone’s life, and he grew angry. His goal today would be to stop Alex Faraday and Clive Cook from hurting anyone else, while protecting his friends from harm. The darkness was coming over him. Soon, the power of his tortured soul would be unleashed again with great fury - a fury driven by the memory of a brutal father. Often in the heat of battle, his father’s face would appear to him - the same cruel, heartless face that terrorized him throughout his childhood. How long? Jon thought. How long will this rage live inside of me?
He spun the cylinders on his Army Colts, still warm from early morning practice. He was fully loaded. He stood up and straightened his tie, donned his brown felt hat, and stepped out of the jail. He turned and quietly locked up. The dew glistened on the roof tops as Jon marched toward Auggie’s. It was dawn in the desert, cool and wet.
Jon pushed open the door to Auggie’s, stepped in and walked over to their favorite table by the large front window. “Howdy Boys,” Jon said as he sat down, back to the wall.
“Mornin’ Jon,” the deputies replied, already seated and waiting.
“We’ve got some plannin’ to do, fellas,” Jon said as Auggie handed him a hot cup of coffee. “We gotta make sure Faraday and Cook don’t leave town.” Jon’s elbows hit the table; he made eye contact with each man. “Here’s the plan.”