A regular at the Repton Bar, where members include Sheriff Samuel Jones.
“Finally, I confirmed that Samuel Jones was with me on the day of the observation. That’s all!”
It was faster than expected and the information was rich.
Max offered a special reward of twenty dollars, which he planned to pay out of the bounty money, of course.
“So that you can drink and rest to your heart’s content today and tomorrow.”
“Old story!”
An excited Peach led his squad outside.
Colin, poking his face out from under the buffalo blanket, looked at the door through which they had disappeared.
“Is that how it was originally or is it a training effect?”
“Both. If you hone your talent, it will shine even brighter.”
“hmm.”
As Colin’s face began to sink into the blanket, Max sat up in his chair and said,
“Wake up quickly.”
“Why? It’s not time to eat yet.”
“It will probably be time to eat when we arrive.”
“!”
Whirik, Colin opened his eyes wide as he took off the blanket.
“Let’s go. To Recompton.”
Recompton
“But you know.”
Colin spoke to Max, who was busily packing his things.
“Do you know what kind of place Recompton is?”
The heart of Kansas’s pro-slavery movement.
It was a very risky move for Sheriff Lawrence to go there.
“Is there anyone who doesn’t recognize your face? No, you’re the only Asian person in Kansas?”
“Am I an invalid? Let’s go like this.”
Max suddenly parted his hair in the middle and let it fall to the sides. Then he put on a feathered hair band that he had found somewhere in the office.
“You’re thinking of getting a karma by covering your face. You’re not going to ask if I look like an Indian, are you?”
“……Of course not.”
In fact, Lecompton is a town that even Indians are reluctant to visit.
In order for Max to access a world that is exclusively for white people.
A perfect disguise was needed.
“Just wait.”
Max plans to use the camouflage cream he made for training the Jayhawks.
It was made by finely grinding burnt ash and mixing it with oil, and was effective enough to fulfill its original purpose of disguising the body.
Max entered the barracks, took off his clothes, and applied camouflage cream all over his body.
Maybe it was because of the cold, but I got goosebumps, but I rubbed my body here and there to make it perfect.
When I got back to the office.
Colin screamed in surprise.
“Huh! How did you know I was here!”
Colin, who thought Max was a runaway black slave, hurriedly grabbed his hand and dragged him away.
At this, Max grins and reveals his teeth.
“I’m going.”
“What the…!”
Colin circled Max’s body, checking his hands and face. He exclaimed,
“The more I look at it, the more I want to escape from it. It’s perfect, it’s perfect.”
“Then shall we go?”
Max became Colin’s black slave and headed to Lecompton.
*
Lecompton, like Lawrence, was founded in 1854.
It was called ‘Bald Eagle’ when the Indians lived there, but it became the current Lecompton after Samuel Leconte, the chief justice of the Kansas Territory.
Former Governor Andrew Reeder established government offices here, and it is now the seat of Douglas County, and has developed faster than Lawrence.
The eve of Christmas Eve.
The bar in the center of the town, which can be considered a bustling area, is crowded with people.
Multi-faceted, multi-faceted, multi-faceted.
Heeeeeeling!
Max, now black, and Colin, with a large mole on his left cheek, finally arrive at the Rapton Bar.
“Just listen to what I say, slave.”
“Where on your body should I make a hole?”
“Acting, acting.”
Max continued, snorting.
“You know the plan, right? We have to lure George Clark out, no matter what.”
He also knows that the abolitionists are after him. He sleeps with prostitutes and spends most of his time in bars, so he had no choice but to wait for them to come out for even a little while.
Max headed to the barn with two horses, while Colin tried to enter the bar.
But the bouncer stops the bouncer.
“Is this the first time I’m seeing your face?”
“Do you know the faces of all the people living in this land?”
Colin and Bouncer’s eyes met. Bouncer smiled sinisterly and nodded, telling them to go in.
“If you make a fuss, be prepared.”
Colin entered the bar through the cold, took off his thick coat, and sat down on a bar stool.
‘The bar is somewhat warm.’
I ordered a glass of whiskey, not caring about the glances from people.
Colin was thinking about Max, who was outside tending to his horse in the bitter cold.
Among the noisy noise, one voice, particularly loud one, thumps his eardrums.
“What the heck, Thomas… I can’t even remember his name. Anyway, that abolitionist slave owner and his brothers were coming towards where I was hiding. So I had a hunch. Oh, these guys are going to help the town of Lawrence.”
“so?”
“So what’s the big deal? Here’s my revolver… My slave bastard’s still fixing it. Anyway, I put a hole in his heart with the pistol.”
George Clark cherished his Colt Dragoon M1848 pistol. He would always show it off to anyone who asked about it that day.
But George Clark wasn’t holding his gun, perhaps because it was broken.
“Anyway, they say abolitionist bastards need to be shot to come to their senses. I wish Lawrence had been torn to pieces that day.”
widely!
Someone slammed a beer mug down on one of the tables. Samuel Jones’ face was distorted. He looked at the man who had just opened his mouth with sharp eyes.
“I, I just said that because I felt sorry.”
“Yeah, Sheriff. He’s upset too, so he said something.”
Jones, who had been glaring as if he was going to devour me, silently lifted his glass and poured beer into his mouth.
All I could think of was an Asian man, Sheriff Lawrence.
“Okay, let’s start the game a little early today. I have a good feeling that these coins will make a lot of money.”
George Clarke lightened the mood by laying out a few two-dollar coins on the table.
Clark, shuffling the cards while smoking a cigar, glances around. Soon, people of interest are gathered around the table.
“Oh my, are you okay, Dotty? It looks like you got hurt yesterday too.”
“Don’t worry about others and just shuffle the cards properly.”
‘It’s poker.’
Colin’s mouth lifted as he sipped his whiskey. The easiest way to approach George Clarke occurred to him.
The action was in full swing, and two prostitutes from the Rapton Bar added the scent of cheap cosmetics to the pungent cigarette smoke.
Men of a pioneer village after the sun has set.
Especially single people without families don’t have much to do. Their lives consist of spending what they earn each day, and squandering it on women and gambling.
Yesterday and today were the same, but the Christmas spirit was a little stronger.
The stables next to the Rapton Bar.
As soon as Max entered, he saw a bear. Startled, he was about to take out his gun when the bear spoke to him.
“He’s a person.”
A black man, about the size of Nathan Rohr, was curled up under a black blanket.
“Are you a slave?”
“Why would you ask such a thing to a slave?”
“…… Everyone else is outside the stable, what are you doing here?”
“Master, I’m fixing your stuff.”
Looking closely, I saw that he was fiddling with small iron objects with his hands.
‘It’s a gun part.’
Max, intrigued, crouched down next to him. The slave laid out a wooden board on the stable floor and laid out the parts on it until they could be disassembled.
“Colt Dragoon?”
“You can tell just by looking at the parts.”
“Well, I do this sometimes too. But I guess your master is kind because he entrusts you with the gun.”
The slave silently rubbed the parts with a sharpening steel.
“It has a peculiar shape.”
“I made it. It can even scrub small holes.”
“Wow, you did the engraving on this barrel too, didn’t you? And the hammer assembly and nipple (cylinder retaining pin) aren’t from Dragoon?”
The slave looked pleased as he saw Max recognizing what he had done.
But soon he turned his gaze to the parts and opened his mouth.
“The master asked me to carve it, and the parts are from other guns. This is a Patterson, this is a Walker. They are made of cast ballistic lead and use Miniethane.”
At present, Mini-Et is mainly used in rifles. In the case of revolvers, the .44 caliber Mini-Et has been used universally since the Civil War, so the slave was saying that he knew exactly the advantages of the bullet.
“You’re no joke with your dexterity.”
“Because this is my job.”
“Anything else besides guns?”
“I’ve been fixing and building machines since I was little. That’s why my master brought me from the cotton farm.”
Max was envious of the skill of the cotton gin, which he said had been repaired several times to remove the cotton seeds.
‘If you give me the scope diagram, can I make it?’
“What is your name?”
“Alfredo.”
As Max was recalling the name, someone suddenly approached the stable.
He was a bouncer at the Rapton Bar.
“Two little slave boys are sitting there chatting peacefully.”
The tongue-clicking bouncer starts urinating on one side of the stall.
After shivering, she came over and wiped Alfredo’s body with her hands.
“I know your master took my money yesterday, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
puck!
The bouncer who had hit the back of his head then kicked Alfredo. With his bear-like physique, instead of fighting back, he crouched down to protect himself, fearing that his master’s gun parts would scatter.
“I feel a little better now.”
The bouncer spat and left the stall.
“Hoooo.”
Alfredo let out a long sigh.
“Aren’t you upset?”
“What if it’s unfair? It’s just like this. This is why we’re slaves.”
“So, why are we slaves?”
“Because I was born a slave.”
“There are free black people, too.”
Alfredo bursts out laughing. He continues, gathering up the slightly disheveled parts.
“Freedom? What good is freedom when you’re cold and hungry? You and I, without a master, we’ll starve to death.”
“With your skills, there will be many places to work.”
“You’ll probably get killed by slave hunters before then. Or you’ll get shot by white people for no reason.”
“Do you have a dream? Or not?”
“There is a dream that cannot be achieved.”
Alfredo’s unfocused eyes stare at one spot.
“I wish I had my own blacksmith shop.”
“smithy?”
Suddenly, I looked at Alfredo, thinking of James of Leavenworth.
“Who did you say your master was?”
*
Inside the bar.
In the midst of a poker game, George Clarke glares at his opponent.
“Is this where you bet?”
“Ask me anything. If you have the guts, just follow me.”
George Clark, his lips quivering, was starting to get angry. The reason was that he had been given five plates.
‘I don’t like the way you speak or the way you act.’
This time, I vowed to myself that I would definitely find out what that bastard was doing.
As George Clark followed suit, putting up a ten-dollar bet, his opponent, or rather Colin, nodded and gave a thumbs-up.
“I like your guts. If I were a girl, I would want to sit next to you.”
“Stop whining and start talking nonsense.”
As the stakes grew, people naturally started to gather. Jones, who had been drinking indifferently on one side, was one of them.
George Clarke’s hand is J, 8 two pair.
And then Colin, who had been covering it with his palm, turned the cards over.
A, J two pair.
It was Colin’s victory.
“Ha, shit.”
George Clarke’s face was distorted.
Then he grabs Colin’s hand as he sweeps up the stakes.
“You little punk···.”
“Why are you like this? You’re losing your charm. I take back what I said earlier.”
“Don’t even think about going anywhere today.”
“You should give me at least some time to pee. How about we go and pee together so we can be friends?”
George Clarke slammed his fist on the table at Colin’s tirade.
“Give me back my defeat right now!”
‘They say that people who are crazy about gambling don’t even go to the bathroom.’
George Clarke is just that kind of guy.
At this rate, it seemed like it would be hard to send him out until daybreak.
‘Damn, Max is scary when he gets angry.’
Two hours have already passed.
It’s a little cold outside. What will happen if Max, who has been waiting, can’t stand it anymore and comes in here?
I racked my brain with frightened thoughts.
Then suddenly I glanced at George Clarke’s empty holster.
– Here’s my revolver… My slave bastard is repairing it.
Colin looked at George Clarke with shining eyes.
If we get it out somehow, Max will take care of it.
“You killed an abolitionist?”
George’s eyes narrow at the unexpected question.
“Why are you suddenly talking about that?”
“I’m tempted by that glorious gun. How about a bet?”
“That crazy guy.”
