A grizzled man of some age, but as much as he was grizzled, he was hard, tanned deeply by the sun, a battered top hat sitting atop his long greyish mane, and a full beard to match. His clothes showed their age as well. Pieces were of military issue and well worn civilian type. Trousers of cotton duck as opposed to wool, knee high cavalry boots that had seen service as well as repair.
Traits & Characteristics
Ornery most times. dedicated to whatever job he is holding.
“Mother nature can be as deadly, if not more than any man. To have not just the blizzard but a fire as well. Now that was a warning from the good Lord that this whitefish was not to be tolerated. Sorta like Sodom & Gomorrah in the good book, if ya subscribe ta thet sortta thing.” Amso offered. “But havin’ this place here fer the survivors, now there tars a blessin’ to be sure.”
“Them plans fer yer hospital and orphanage, don’t you worry none about it. It’s the right thing, a good thing , a necessary thing yer doin’. Tell that to yer lady friend was she to get discouraged. You’ll get ‘er done, mark my words.” Now Amos wasn’t much of a religious man, but, there was the part of him that recognized a God that did right by the righteous.
"Whitefish was it?" He'd heard some odd names out in the west, so it wasn't a surprise to him.
"A bad time of it you say, this Doc Boone, he was the Doc up there then?" A flurry of simple question, mostly repeating what he had heard. A common trait in the west it seemed.
"A man fallin' into a job he didn't seek, seen it many a time out here. And especially lawmen. There's those cut out for it, to be sure. Some come to it naturally, been a number what changed trails, from bad to good, some, well, some changed jobs but kept on the way they was headed in the first place. Still an all, seein' Speed Guyer as a town Marshal, not that's one for the books." Then he laughed as he lifted another fork load toward his mouth.
"Man saved my life back durin' the war. An Infantry Captain he was, so maybe bein' a lawman ain't so far a stretch as one would think. " Amos added. "So there here hospital you're plannin', tell me about it."
"Good to meet you, sir." Jonah smiled as he shook the man's hand. "And not just one, there's another doctor as well. I know it's unusual for a town this size, but it has its advantages. We're even working to bring a hospital to town." A huge advance, if Leah could pull it off, and if anyone could do it, it would be that young woman.
“Two Doc’s in one little town.” Amos declared. “You folks are certainly blessed. And a hospital.My my. I’d believe I was in Omaha or Council Bluffs. This place’ll be boomin’ with that addition. ‘Course folks have been friendly, prices are fair, an she seems peaceable enough.”
He chuckled. "It's friendly enough here, but not without its troubles." It was a territorial mining community, that brought all sorts of characters, criminals among them. "Wasn't long ago some men tried to rob the bank, as a matter of fact."
“You don’t say.” The bounty hunter in him came to life almost instantly. “Well I’d bet my friend Marshal Guyer got ‘em all. Know’d him since the war, I have. Odd to see him him behind a badge though. Mines an’ minerals, that was what he was doin’ last I saw of him. Got me an appointment with a Miss Ada Fetterman at his business this mornin’.”
Amos looked up from his meal, "Doctor is it? Now that's a bright spot in this town. An honest to by-God goodness medical man. Amos Conroy." He reached across the open space, which required a bit of a lean, his hand open. "This here's quite the place. Mostly towns of this sort aren't what I've found here. Meanin' a lot more friendly than most places I've been in my time."
"Real pleased to meet you Doctor. Real pleased." Amos stated. "Got a daughter out to our pplace east of here, she'll be glad to hear of a Doctor in town, I can garen'tee you that."
“Now yer talkin’ ma’am. Coffee’d be right nice.” Amos answered with a grin. Mebee ya got some side meat an’ eggs? Like the meat medium and the cackle-berries over medium if ya do ‘em that way. Name’s Amos, Amos Conroy. The daughter and I got a place east of town. Rafter A.”
So introductions were made from his side of the table, he smiled at the woman, not knowing if she was the owner or hired help.
@Bongo-Maybe move this to the Lickskillet?
As the day was beginning to unfold, Amos Conroy stopped for a late breakfast at the Lickskillet Cafe. The one Speed Guyer had bragged on. He took out his pocket watch noting it was nearly nine and he had a ten o'clock appointment with a Miss Ada Fetterman. Speed's office clerk about the job he had been hired for.
So, there was time for his breakfast. Alice would be at the ranch, awaiting the delivery of their furniture and other belongings. She was a good woman, he reflected as he entered the eatery. Stubborn as all get out, but good none the less. She had stuck with him through thick and thin to be sure. Turned down several men for reasons she kept to herself, but Amos did not worry about her. There would come a time when a man would come along for her where you couldn't say no.
He found a seat and sat down, a fair amount of customers were inside, a couple of hands in town for some reason or other enjoying cooking that was not the cookies, four old times drinking coffee and talking quietly, except for an occasional burst of laughter. He looked up as the waitress approached.
Amos had gone to the stand of trees where the horse and corps waited patiently, under the circumstances there were more flies than usual, but the animal simply swished his tail in defiance of their assault.
He took up the lead rope and towed his bounty thru town to the undertaker , then back to the bank where he was able to collect on the poster. He hoped Speed would get something of a finders fee, as the bank would surely be gifted for paying out the reward. It was odd to Amos how all this worked, but it was what he had done for sometime. A ‘trade’ he could always fall back on, when needed.
Once he had the cash money the next stop was to the Mercantile, where he loaded up on flour, sugar, coffee, bacon, and beans. Two boxes of forty-fours, and two of forty-four forties for Alice’s Henry rifle. Met the owner, John Anderson and his wife Grayce, a nice couple. They spoke of weather and range condition, his place east of town, which they knew of and remembered the previous owner well.
tow, Amos headed east for the Rafter A ranch, named for Alice, of course. As he left the town behind, in no hurry to be anywhere but where he was he reflected on how good it was to see Speed. It had been since the war, but if the man was anything like him, Speed would have been on the move as well, except for the time they chanced to meet in Kansas.
Speed had saved his life, he reflected. Some Reb got a lucky shot, but off the mark. Shot his horse out from under him and broke his leg, but Guyer, who stumbled on him trapped under the animal, managed to move it just enough before the animal died to get him free, under fire the whole time. He drug him to cover and managed to stand off the Rebs, or they just tired of the fight and moved out
Guyer got him to the New Jersey Infantry’s field hospital, such as it was, more of an aid station where the leg was set. Guyer was also able to look in on him now and again, until the Thirteenth moved out for town called Gettysburg. It would be some time before their paths crossed again That was near 1870 in Olathe Kansas. Speed was mineral hunting at the time so he was on a schedule, but did stay for supper.
He could see Alice standing in the yard from a distance.
Mature Content: Nope
With: Amos and Speed Location: Marshal's Office When: April 21, 1876 Time of Day: Afternoon
The man sat his horse near the end of the street. A grizzled man of some age, but as much as he was grizzled, he was hard, tanned deeply by the sun, a gratified top hat sitting atop his long greyish mane, and a full beard to match. His clothes showed their age as well. Pieces were of military issue and well worn civilian type. Trousers of cotton duck as opposed to wool, knee high cavalry boots that had seen service as well as repair.
His mount? A grulla stud, a mustang by lineage, as tough as the man on his back. A black stripe down his spine, and black stockings added to his grey color, and an aged McClellan cavalry saddle. The pair had seen many a mile together, that much was obvious. Both alert to all that surrounded them, almost out of place in a town setting.
This was Amos Conroy, and he was in town on business, bounty business.
Just outside of town in the trees was a body draped over horse, wrapped in his ground sheet. That man was two hundred dollars, cash money, name of Jethro Dollarhide, wanted by the Allen and Millard Bank of Virginia City Montana, dead or alive.
He eased the mustang toward the large building in the center of town as people stopped to look at the man wondering if he was trouble or not. He stopped, reading the painted sign announcing “Municipal Building 1868.” Then he looked at the glass window with words “Town Marshal” in gold leaf and at the bottom, David S. Guyer, Marshal.
A smile cracked the craggy face and he stepped down, casually flipping the reins over the hitch rail, then stepping up on the boardwalk, nodding and tipping his hat to a couple walking past. He stretched and then stepped to the door, opened it and went inside. The door on his right was ajar, so he simply pushed it open and stepped through saying, “Not THE Captain Guyer is it?”
Speed looked up and after a moment his eyes went wide as he leaped from his chair and the two embraced. “Amos! Amos Conroy! What are you doing in Kalispell?”
The two separated, “Got me a circular and the man to go with it. Lookin’ to collect on it.”
“Damn! Well,” he said as Amos handed him the poster, “The bank will honor it since it’s from Millard Bank. It is good to see you. You’re a long ways from home.”
“Nope, got a spread east of town. Lookin’ to quit huntin’ men an’ maybe set some roots. Maybe hunt a bit of gold ‘er silver.” He said with a smile. “Might ought ta drop around, Alice would like to see an old friend.”
“Alice, you drug her out here?” Speed asked. He remembered her, she was mid-twenties back then, and married.
“Nope. Was the other way around actually. She did the draggin’, I did the follerin’.”
“Wish I could, got me a cell block full that needs my attention, but you bet I will.” Speed was thrilled to see Amos, he had not seen him since the war. Right near the end of it.
“Well, I’ll be up to bank, after I drag the carcass so’s it can be seen, and then to yer undertaker fer proper burial." He started for the door, then stopped and looked back, “Speed, you come out, Alice was widowed back in seventy, no account, well, you come out.”
“Count on it, Amos.” Came the reply. He watched him leave, then saw him mount up and head back up the street.
Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.
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