Craig Ch 4 The home cumming
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Craig MccallisterChapter 4 free porn video
I moved the rock out of the way before the stagecoach got to the ambush site, so they never slowed down as they rattled past. I picked up about $100 from miscellaneous stuff the bandits were carrying, along with their horses, and I got my $300 for the bandits from the stage line. I asked if the deal still held, and I was told that they would pay $100 each for any more bandits I delivered. That was reasonable, so I decided to stay with it for a little while longer.
I'd had so much luck with the shotgun that I kicked myself for giving the others up. That day, I bought a matching shotgun to go with my first one. I hooked both of them on my saddle horn and now had four loads of buckshot that I could deliver on very short notice. I just wished that I had some way to get a 21st Century modern pump shotgun, but I would have to settle for what I had. Hell, I might as well wish for smokeless powder while I was about it.
I had so much time to get there that I decided to work from the Sweetwater end of the run this time. There was no good reason for it, but I had a hunch, and all of my hunches, so far, had worked out well for me. On Wednesday, I left very early for Sweetwater and got there about dark by pushing my horse a little too much.
I spent the night in the hotel and got up early to beat the crooks to the first ambush point north of town. I screwed up and didn't leave early enough to get to the ambush site before the stagecoach. However, there was no holdup on this day, so it made no difference. I was already there, so I decided to spend the week in Sweetwater, instead of heading back to Roswell. That way, I could ride out to the ambush site and spend Wednesday night there. I can't say that I liked the prospect, but it was the better of the two choices.
Sweetwater was a big town as a result of the railroad. There were three saloons and the prospect of a fourth. I spent most of my time playing penny ante poker, and I began to develop a reputation as a poker shark. I was not really all that good, it was just that everybody else was that poor a player.
Finally, Wednesday came, and I rode out to the ambush site. I had already selected my camping and observation locations on my first trip the previous week, so I had a pretty easy time setting up my camp. You can be sure that I was careful to set out the charms against rattlesnakes.
This time, I had guessed right, and four bandits showed up to ambush the stage. There was not much in the way of available trees for a roadblock, so these guys also used a boulder. I was not real anxious to sweat in the hot sun, so I acted as soon as they started working on getting that boulder onto the road. I figured that by acting soon enough, I could save myself the work of moving the boulder out of the way about the time the sun got really hot.
All four of the bandits were occupied with the boulder when I struck. I was real happy to have the second shotgun for this attack. I got one shotgun ready and charged at the four men while they were concerned with the boulder. I got pretty close before they even heard me, and I fired my first shot before more than one of them had looked up. One dead man. I fired my second shot as quickly as I could move the barrel back from the recoil jump. Another dead or badly wounded man.
The other two men were still frozen in a kind of shock at what had happened to their friends, so I was able to knock them off with the other shotgun while they were still standing there. Humph! This business was too easy. There just had to be a catch to it somewhere, but I hoped I never found it!
Anyway, I did the usual things and picked up my mule. This time, I had not found much shade for him, so he was not as happy as he might have been. Anyway, we were back in Sweetwater in time for me to eat lunch at the railroad restaurant
They menu had a choice of two items: a beef and beans stew containing what they claimed to be potatoes and carrots, or beans and beef served separately on the same plate. Hell, I felt adventurous, so I took the stew. To my surprise, I actually did see a carrot in there among all of the grease.
This time, with four bandits, I came close to $600 when I had sold everything I didn't want and counted in the $30 bounty on one of the bandits. Man, I really was getting rich! I had no idea that this line of work paid so well.
I decided to hang around Sweetwater to wait for news on any more stagecoach robberies. After three weeks of no more robberies, I figured that I had taken care of all of the gangs. The weather was getting too hot for my tastes, so I looked around for a job that paid well, but did not involve standing or riding in the hot sun. The only thing that looked promising was becoming a poker pro.
There were no pros in Sweetwater at the moment, so I asked the bartenders what was the usual procedure for setting up a game. That was when I found out that the bartender got a small percentage of the pros winnings in exchange for providing the place for the game. One of the saloons seemed to have more customers than the others, so I made an agreement with the bartender that I would pay him a flat $10 to set up a game in his place. I pointed out that I was a beginner and he would probably take in more money that way. The bartender thought about it for a minute or so and agreed. I gave him an Eagle and picked up a deck of cards from him.
I found a suitable table and soon had a friendly game going. I explained to everybody who joined the game that I was a novice at being a poker pro, so I was open to suggestions as we went along. That brightened things up, and we soon advanced beyond the penny ante game I had been expecting. That was fine with me; I needed a bigger pot if I was going to make a living at poker. Fortunately, I had a pretty big cushion to fall back on if I ran into some bad luck, so I was not afraid of big pots.
I ran an honest game, and the players appreciated that, though the bartender was a little pissed that I did not cheat so that I could rake in more money. My feeling was, if he wanted a cheating game, he should put in a faro table. Everybody knew that those were crooked.
Anyway, I went for a week, making enough to get by, but steadily learning the trade. One rich rancher did drop in on the game on Friday night, and he lost a little over $200. He was really pissed off, but he did not accuse me of cheating. I was glad of that, because I really didn't want to have to shoot him.
The next week, I started to win more, and the bartender wanted a bigger cut of the pie. We negotiated, and I agreed to pay him 5% of my winnings. He still averaged about $10 per night, but he was happier, and I did not care.
By the fourth week, I had a reputation as a card sharp. As I previously commented, the vast majority of the poker players in Sweetwater had little idea of how to play the odds, so it was no wonder that I consistently won. However, the upshot was that I had fewer and fewer players to sit at my table, so I was going to have to move on, the same as any other poker professional had to do.
I had already sold my horse and mule, but I did keep my shotguns, etc. I had definitely worn out my welcome in Sweetwater as a poker player, so I decided to try for a bigger city. I figured that a bigger pool of potential players would help my business. The easiest thing to do was to take the train to El Paso.
Times were really tough economically for the average working joe. Jobs were very hard to find, and they didn't pay enough to keep body and soul together. Therefore, there was a tremendous increase in theft as men tried to find a way to buy their next meal. This was especially true in states where Reconstruction was in full sway.
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