On the way back into town, Jack Duane and Lieutenant McCormick remained for the most part silent although both of them occasionally broke out into laughter at the stories and anecdotes proceeding from both Lancer and Ballard. The two men gradually began telling each other of past dangerous episodes in their lives and Lancer was saying: "Well, like I said, them rangers had done chased me half way 'cross Texas. I thought I could lose 'em up north in Palo Duro canyon. Them bastards knew how ta track though. I found one branch of the canyon that I thought would lead me out of there. I went up it an found it was a box canyon. The walls at the back were durn near straight up fer about six-hunnerd feet. I looked back and there was around twenty rangers hot on my trail behind me an I had nowhere's ta go. So I let my horse loose and tried ta climb the cliffs. I couldn't find any footholds though, an pretty soon had ta give up. By that time, them rangers surrounded me an opened fire. I tell ya, that was the worst predicament I ever been in."

"What happened then?" Ballard asked.

"Why hell, ya damn fool, what da ya think happened? They killed me!" Lancer said feigning exasperation, and the other three men broke out in laughter. "Tell me boys, what does yer boss pay ya ta work fer 'em?" Lancer asked suddenly.

"Seventy bucks a month, a hundred extra each time we have to perforate somebody in defense of the brand." replied Duane.

"You job huntin'?" queried Ballard.

"I might be, but then from what I've heard, your boss ain't too fond of Murdoch, and I don't want ta hire my gun out against him. Not my own family. But then I cain't work fer Uncle Moose on account of two gunhand brothers who are also like his family and are out ta gun me down fer killin' their Texas Ranger brother a few years back down in Piedras Negras Mexico."

"Hell, Lancer, we ain't fightin' yer uncle right now, but it looks like we may be fightin' Fogg's boys purty soon, if they don't get off Tanner's land." Colt said.

"We'll take you to see Tanner when we get to town." Duane said.

McCormick just rode on silently. He knew a range war was brewing, and he knew his commanding officer's ties to Tanner. The fact was, there was little he could do to prevent it. Range wars and personal feuds were more the department of the rangers or state police, and at that time, there were mighty few of either in the whole area. The army's job primarily was to guard the trails against marauding Indians such as the Comanche, Kiowa, and Apache, not, to settle range disputes. However, If the Esperanza gang were involved, it might turn out to be a different matter altogether.

In any event, it was rumored that the halfbreed chief Quannah Parker was stirring up the Comanches for war off to the northeast, and it was highly probable that he and the rest of the men stationed at Fort Stockton might soon be called upon to quell an uprising. The ranchers would probably end up settling the matter one way or another between themselves without any army intervention.

Privately, although he seriously doubted it would happen that way, he hoped Murdoch would win. He disliked Tanner immensely, and didn't trust Captain Fogg either. Yet Murdoch, seemed stable and honest, if somewhat gruff, irreverant and uncouth. He was a man one could easily come to admire if one were to spend any time with him. After having done just that, McCormick had come to the conclusion that Angus Murdoch was by no means the stupid, uneducated ruffian he had been led to believe.

The town of Olsen's Falls was filled with talk of Sheriff Orr's demise. Almost to a man, the townsfolk believed Lance Nighthawk to be responsible. Some, had spoken of forming a posse to go after him, but it never got past the stage of talk. Few had the stomach to attempt to go against Captain Fogg's guns. Most agreed; let the army or Tanner handle it. Tanner had gunmen, and the Foggs were on land he claimed for himself. Why should they risk their lives attempting to do what Tanner would probably accomplish on his own anyway?

Morgan Tanner himself was presently sitting in his office. He had not been pleased with the report brought back by Ballard and Duane, nevertheless, he offered no objections as they filled him in on the details. After they had concluded however, he ordered them to keep their findings to themselves. As far as he was concerned, Nighthawk was still the prime suspect, and he wanted the townsfolk to feel the same way. After all, he needed public opinion on his side, and the public outrage now being focused upon the Fogg's, could only further Tanner's purposes. After their discussion, Ballard introduced him to Johnny Lancer.

Tanner interviewed Lancer, and at least convinced him to think about signing on as a gunhand. Lancer indicated that he wanted no part in a war with Murdoch, but would fight anyone else, if the pay was right. Morgan would have hired him instantly, but Lancer told him that he wasn't quite ready. Tanner wished him well and assured him that the job was always open. He was fairly certain Lancer would come around soon. And as to his reluctance to go against Murdoch, well, Tanner concluded he could manipulate circumstances in such a way as to modify the brash young gunman's outlook on the subject. He rose from behind his desk and prepared to go out and meet the noon stage.

He was expecting a new major attraction to arrive that day which would bring far more business to the Silver Palace Saloon. Three of them to be exact. Three beautiful showgirls from back east. Conchita Mireles, The Boar's Head and Mecca would soon have stiff competition, and these girls could do more than simply work on their backs. They could sing and dance as well. Business was bound to pick up considerably.

It wasn't as though Tanner needed the extra money, rather, he wanted anything that was connected to his name, to be the finest and most extravagant enterprise of its kind, anywhere around.

Upon his return to Olsen's Falls, Lieutenant McCormick received word that a courier had brought orders from Colonel Foley at Fort Stockton. Lieutenant McCormick was to gather up his men and return immediately to Fort Stockton to begin preparations for a possible Indian campaign. Off to the north, both the Kiowa and Comanche had been acting up, and Colonel Foley wanted his men to begin drilling in earnest, just in case they were called upon. That was fine with McCormick. This range feuding business was not what he had trained for anyhow. Let the State law officials handle it. In less than an hour, McCormick and his men were on their way back to Fort Stockton.

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