May I speak?
Mr. Bullock.
I was a marshal in Montana, my father served in the British Royal Army, and my brother Robert was a cavalryman, killed fighting the Comancheros in Texas.
Why are you here, Mr. Bullock?
A man named Otis Russell is laid up in this establishment, he needs protection.
Protection from whom?
Several in this camp. I beat him badly. Others have reason to wish him dead, and the camp sheriff can be bought off for half a can of bacon grease.
Well, while we're here, I will hold Mr. Russell under protection, as a gesture to your brother's sacrifice.
Thank you, sir.
I would add, in a camp, where the sheriff can be bought for bacon grease, a man, a former marshal, who understands the danger of his own temperament, might consider serving his fellows. We all have bloody thoughts.
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