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Father Kit Cool Gun Garth

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Everything posted by Father Kit Cool Gun Garth

  1. Kit was not expecting the voice on the other side of the door, he heard a woman’s voice say “How may I help you?” “I’m in need of verifying a land deed that was just provided to me,” Kit replied, still rattled, and stumbling with his speech. With that, there was a brief moment of silence, then the slow unlatching of the lock, turning of the doorknob and a small, but usable opening of the door so as to only allow conversation. “I’m not open for business yet, could you come back in say an hour?” she replied. Not wanting to be rude, Kit apologized for the interruption; however, insisted that this matter was of great importance to him. Another moment of silence, then the door opened fully. When it comes to door opening surprises, this was no J. Mark Flint! Standing in front of him was this vision of beauty such that he had never seen since the passing of his wife. Always the gentleman, it was not in his nature to stare; however, her appearance was quickly taken in and seared to his brain. Her petite figure went well with her wafer-thin body. Her complexion was impeccable with a glow to it even in the dimly lit office. Slender arched eyebrows only enhanced her sweeping velvety eyelashes and with a dainty nose surrounded by twin rapture blue eyes that were the centerpiece to her coils of sunrise golden hair. Her heart-shaped lips, though pursed now, shined. Although attired in a flowing overly large plain white shirt and brown khaki pants with boots, it somehow did not diminish her overall appearance. Before introductions could be made, they were both startled by the appearance of another rider, this time on a mule with four trailing horses, bodies laying belly over saddle and hog-tied. As they rode toward the Sheriff’s Office, I turned back around, and the woman had already gone back to her office. Stepping into the room and closing the door behind me, I approached the office and found her sitting at her desk shuffling papers as if to ignore me on purpose. “You didn’t seem to be bothered by the sight of dead men being hauled into town,” Kit asked. “Obviously, you haven’t been in town long enough, as this has become a daily ritual ever since Hammond and his sons laid claim to land that doesn’t belong to them,” she scoffed. Sensing the tension in the air already, Kit attempted to resolve that situation. Doffing his hat and extending a hand in her direction, he introduced himself to her. “Name’s Kit, and it’s pleasure to make your acquaintance. My apologies for the interruption.” Another moment of silence, which he was beginning to think was part of her nature, and then she stood up and took his hand, shaking it while introducing herself, “I’m Venus Lardy, proprietor of this Land Office.”
  2. Although he was a stranger in this town, Kit apparently was not a stranger to acquiring large pieces of property through deed transfers. Having seen J. Mark at his door was a shock, especially after their last encounter. Kit had found him to have an initial reaction to strangers that, let's just say, leaves a lingering taste in your mouth that no matter how hard you try taking your tongue and rubbing your mouth and lips, it won't go away. Maybe, he thought, he was wrong about him. Grabbing his hat, and stuffing the recently acquired deed into his vest pocket, he headed downstairs, out onto the boardwalk and straight for the Land Office. Passing the General Store, he saw the lady inside at the counter that had given him a scrowl when he first arrived in town. Kit gave her a tip of his hat, and a pleasant "Fine morning, isn't it Ma'am?" to which she merely returned the same look as before. Shrugging off her response, he continued down the rickkety boardwalk, past the bank and stopped in front of the Land Office. Before turning the door knob, he glanced back down the boardwalk and as expected, saw the lady from the General Store who had popped her head out to see what he was doing, and quickly jerking her head back into her shop! His attempt to open the door to the Land Office failed. The door was locked. Moving to the left side of the door, cupping his hands on the now dusty window, he could barely distinguish any presence in the office itself. The inside looked dark and uninhabited with lots of paperwork strewn across numerous tables lined up like soldiers waiting for inspection. He could see what appeared to be a door leading to a back office and a shadow moving back and forth cast on the opposing wall. Returning to the door and raising his hand to tap on the glass, he was stopped by the sound of a rider coming down the street with two prisoners, hands tied to their saddle horns. As they all approached the Sheriff's Office where UB and two other men were heading down main Street, Kit caught his first glimpse of the man with the two prisoners. "Well I'll be... If it ain't Texas Jack Caulder", he mused to himself, as he nodded in recognition, too late to catch him, as he joined the others with UB. Turning back to the door, he rapped hard on the glass, hard enough to get someone's attention, but not too hard to break the glass. There was movement from the back office area as someone approached the door.
  3. I've never been called a racist...yet. But just to be sure....
  4. https://www.espn.com/nba/story/_/id/29765226/former-portland-trail-blazers-great-cliff-robinson-dies-53
  5. Ms. Allie, Unfortunately a lot more people know about it now!
  6. Having only arrived in town recently, Kit left the livery heading for the Boarding House, stepping from the boardwalk onto the dusty street and then through a short cut behind the stables. As he approached the boarding house, Kit heard voices coming from an adjacent lot. There he saw four men discussing troubles they were having with the Town Marshal. They were making threats that they would kill him on sight the next time they saw him. One of the men even suggested taking out all the lawmen in town. Concerned for their safety, Kit continued to the boardwalk in front of the Boarding House and down the street. Catching the first stranger heading his way, he queried as to where he could find the Town Marshal. After the man pointed him out, I approached him and introduced myself. “Marshal, if I may have a bit of your time?”, Kit said as he motioned toward a less crowded section of the street. “What can I do for you stranger?”, the Marshal responded. “I just came from the livery and heard four or five men making threats toward you and the other lawmen in town. One of the men had a bandage around his head.” Kit continued. “Well I take this kind of threat seriously,” the Marshal replied. “I’ll certainly take care of it and thank you for your concern. You say they were down next to the Boarding House?” Kit merely nodded his head in agreement. With that, the Marshal placed a firm strong hand on Kit’s shoulder stating, “You’re a good man,” turned and headed back in the direction he had come. Kit did likewise heading back to the Boarding House; however, instead of entering the building, he crossed the street and found a spot in an alleyway just off the boardwalk. It wasn’t long until he spotted what appeared to be five lawmen making their way to the vacant lot directly in front of him. One of them was arguing with the Marshal, but eventually the one gave way to the other four as they approached the lot. The four lawmen were now facing six cowboys. I heard the Marshal state, "Throw up your hands; I have come to disarm you!" Three of the Cowboys took off almost immediately. That was when I saw one of the cowboys start to draw his six-shooter and my instincts kicked in as I drew and fired in his direction. Although I missed, I believe I caused him to miss his intended target. Shooting continued and there was black powder smoke everywhere and as quickly as it started, it had ended. Suddenly, the one that had used the scatter gun turned around and looked in my direction. I froze, as he bent over picking up the shotgun and began to approach me. "I heard what you did there stranger" he said in between bouts of coughing. "I'm much obliged for saving my best friend." With that he held his shotgun with extended arms in a sign of thanks and gestured for me to take it. "It's yours to remember this day." "That I will do, Sir," Kit replied. The man then tipped his hat, smiled, and as he turned away said, "Call me Doc." A knock on the door to his room caused Kit to awake from his dream. "Ah, that was a good day," he whispered to himself with a smile appearing on his face. "Be right there," he responded to the person who knocked on the door. Kit was completely unaware of how tired he was and how long he had been sleeping, but he knew he was more rejuvenated and refreshed than he had ever been since his long journey to East Fork. Rising out of bed, he slowly approached the door, swinging it wide open. His eyes grew large and his jaw dropped at the person standing in front of him.
  7. I knew UB had many uniforms in his collection, but didn't think he had this one!
  8. @Wild Will Bartell The SASS F.A.Q. Forum has great reference information on it. https://forums.sassnet.com/index.php?/forum/25-sass-wire-faq/ For your topic:
  9. I respect that comment! https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Beaver_(wrestler)
  10. Means even more that he appears dressed in full uniform.
  11. He is Jamaican. Were his parents of African descent?
  12. Please clarify my understanding of race and it's associated terms. This post is, by no means, intended to disparage any one or any race. It's come about with the recent decision by Mr. Biden to choose Kamala Harris as his VP running mate. Now it's a known fact that her father is Jamaican and her mother is Indian (clarification needed, as she is from India and not a Native American Indian) and she was born in California. Not only the MSM, but others, are using terms such as "Black", "African-American" , and woman of color to describe her. My understanding is that to be categorized or called "Black" one must have African black ancestry or lineage. Likewise, to be called African American, one must be a descendant of enslaved black people who are from the United States. As Kamala Harris has no African black ancestry or lineage, nor is she a descendant of enslaved black people, the terms " Black" and "African American" are not appropriate or acceptable to describe her. Use of the term "woman of color" is so vague that it's use becomes meaningless, as it denotes ANYONE who is not white. It dates back to 1977 when it was used by a group of black women. Ms. Harris, IMHO, should either be referred to as Asian American or of Jamaician-Indian descent. Please correct me if my view is skewed.
  13. German Shepard realizes owner is no longer behind him!
  14. O.K., we all know why he's taking up this new hobby!
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