The Mice Will Play
By Brate
JD Dunne sat across from his companions in the Saloon. He watched as Buck told a story that brought everyone to tears with laughter. And he waited.
Not one.
Not one of his friends had apologized to him for making him travel all over the countryside in order to trick Vin and then failing. He was the one out riding around all day long, and no one even cared. They had just laughed when he arrived... long after Vin. And the worst part was he even missed seeing Vin dunked in the pond!
The youngest regulator watched his friends as they laughed, and as he sat, an idea developed. It would surely work, only he would need a little help. Going through the plan in his mind, he picked which two men he would approach. JD would love to be able to pull one over on Buck, and Chris was gone for a few days working on his shack. Nathan would probably disapprove of his plan, and of course, Vin was the main target. That left Josiah and Ezra. The dark-haired youth was certain Josiah would agree to help, because even though he seemed serious most times, he had a humorous side. And the gambler would be up for anything that would make him a little money while confounding his friends.
The game was afoot.
Catching the preacher in his church the next day, JD outlined his plan and was relieved when the older man started to chuckle, then laugh uproariously. He joined the plot immediately. They worked out a few details, and JD left to talk to the conman.
Ezra Standish was playing solitaire at the corner table when JD entered the Saloon. JD sat next to the gambler and within minutes, they had the entire strategy planned. The young man ran off to locate the tracker and set everything in motion.
Tanner was sitting on the boardwalk near the livery when his youthful comrade approached him. "Hey, Vin, whatcha doing?"
"Jest enjoying the day."
"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing something for me."
"Depends."
"See, I've been practicing a lot, and I think I'm getting awful good at sharpshootin'."
"And?"
"And I was thinking maybe we could have a shooting contest."
"Yer jokin'."
JD managed to look hurt. "Nothing to joke about, I have been practicing."
"I don't mean ta hurt yer feelings JD, but last time I saw, you was still needin' to brush up a mite."
"I done told you, Vin. I've been practicing. You aren't scared are you? Afraid the 'kid' might beat you?"
"You know that ain't it, JD. Look, if it means that much to ya, we'll do yer shootin' contest."
"All right! I have some bottles set up at the end of town, and we'll try them from over here," he said motioning to the corner of the Saloon.
Vin eyed the positioned bottles his friend pointed to. "They gotta be 700 yards away, JD. Ya sure about this?"
"'Course I am," the young sheriff smugly replied. "Unless you don't think you're up for it?" he taunted.
"I got no problem with it." The tracker shook his head. Vin hated to make a fool of his friend, but he couldn't have the kid getting so uppity where he might do something stupid. Maybe this would teach JD a lesson. "You want to go first?"
"Nah, you can have the first shot."
"And may I ask you gentlemen what you are attempting to accomplish?" drawled a voice behind them.
"I challenged Vin to a shooting contest, Ezra."
"You did what, Kid?" yelled Buck, exiting the Saloon closely followed by Nathan. "You are a damn fool to challenge a sharpshooter to a sharp-shooting contest."
"What is the wager?" asked Ezra, interrupting the argument before it could begin.
"There is none," Vin stated with a pointed look toward his opponent.
"What is a contest without a wager? Unthinkable!" the Southerner huffed.
"You'd need someone willing to bet against Vin. And who's gonna bet on this wet-behind-the-ears greenhorn?" Buck asked as he swatted at the back of JD's head. JD smacked Buck's hand away and moved over next to Nathan.
"I believe I have ten dollars that says more bottles will be broken during Mr. Dunne's turns, than during Mr. Tanner's," ventured the conman.
"Yer on, Ez," Buck agreed.
"Sorry, JD, but this is too good an opportunity to miss," Nathan said as he, too, accepted the bet.
Vin shook his head, and then turned to face the bottles at the end of the road. He steadied his rifle, looked down the barrel, and hit the first bottle directly in the center.
JD whistled, "Good job, Vin. Guess it's my turn." He carefully took aim and fired. Down the street the middle bottle smashed into oblivion. JD smiled and turned around to face his friends. "Close your mouth, Buck," he chuckled.
"You have been practicing, JD. Ready to go again?" At his friend's acknowledgement, Vin aimed and shot, hitting another bottle.
JD aimed, fired, and another bottle was broken. He smirked to the sharpshooter and asked, "Worried?"
"Hell no, Kid. Ya gotta be able to shoot more than one at a time in an emergency. Seconds can count." And Vin stepped up, trying valiantly to ignore his smirking opponent, and shot off three quick rounds: only two bottles were shattered.
"Never seen you miss, Pard," commented the scoundrel.
"Everyone can have an off day, Bucklin," Tanner retorted. "Okay JD, yer up."
Dunne nodded, raising his weapon to his shoulder. Without a pause, he fired three bullets in quick succession. No sound was heard from the regulators as three bottles crashed down. JD grinned in accomplishment and twirled his rifle, before setting it down next to him.
Ezra was the first to speak, "I do believe you gentlemen owe me remuneration. Cash is always acceptable." Grumbling, the two men relinquished their money to the smiling gambler.
"How did you do that, JD?" asked the healer in awe.
"Practice."
"But how did you do it?" Buck asked again.
"Why is it so unbelievable that I'm a good shot?" JD mumbled in frustration.
"That ain't what's in question, JD," Nathan reassured the lad. "What's confoundin' us is how you outshot Vin." He jerked his head at the flushed tracker.
"He got cocky."
At this, Tanner looked insulted. "What?"
JD faced his friend. "I don't mean any offense, Vin," he said, echoing the tracker's earlier sentiments. "But you haven't been practicing lately, and maybe you've been resting on your laurels."
"What the hell does that mean?" questioned Tanner.
Buck answered, "It means you been sitting on yer ass instead of making sure you could still shoot!" The tall man started chuckling. "Hey, JD, if'n we can teach you to track, we can get rid of Tanner altogether."
The other men started laughing at Vin's expression of disgust. "Well, you won fair and square, Kid. Good job," the tracker extended his hand.
JD shook it as he swelled with pride. As a token of his victory, he offered to buy each of the men drinks. His friends happily agreed, moving into the Saloon. Josiah soon joined the men.
"Heard you did well today, Brother Dunne," the preacher said with a slight smile.
"I beat Vin in a sharp-shooting contest," the boy gleefully reported.
"Wish I could've seen it," the big man sighed. He was about to say something else when Mary Travis came up to the table.
"Evenin', Mrs. Travis."
"Ma'am."
"Are you gentlemen done shooting off your guns in town?" the newspaperwoman asked.
"Yes, ma'am, sorry. We were just having ourselves a little contest," explained Buck.
"And Josiah," Mary said pointedly, "next time could you not shoot at the bottles from in front of Potter's store? It made Gloria's customers nervous." She nodded at the gentlemen as she finished her announcement, and then left the Saloon.
Realization dawned as Nathan, Buck, and Vin all exchanged glances and then their glares turned on the youngest regulator. JD was slowly standing up and backing away with his hands raised up in surrender. "Sorry, guys, I have to go. Catch you later." And he took off running through the bar and out the batwing doors.
Buck waited a beat before sprinting after his friend, yelling, "Wait 'til I getta hold a you, Kid, yer not gonna be able to sit for a week!"
Nathan twirled around and confronted the gambler. "I think you owe us some money, Ezra."
"I don't know what you mean, my friend."
"JD didn't shoot those bottles. You two got Josiah to do it."
"I must admit that was the arrangement: I signaled the preacher, and he shot at the same time as our young friend, actually inflicting the damage on the bottles. However, I did win that money fairly."
"How can you say that?" the dark man asked incredulously.
"The wager was more bottles would be broken when JD shot. There was no specification as to how they were to be broken," the gambler rejoined.
"Damn snake's right, Nate," Vin stated quietly.
Nathan nodded his acknowledgement. "Just remember," the healer warned the conman with a smirk, "paybacks are a bitch."
