"Eldon" Forsythe stood at the doorway of the stable and watched with huge, round eyes as the crowd surged towards the lawyer's office. She'd never seen such an ugly, hell-bent-for-hanging crowd before, although she'd seen one hanging of a man who'd helped a runaway slave back in Virginia. It was something she never wanted to see again in her life.

"C'mon, Jacob, let's git outta here," she said to her mule. Slipping into the shadows of the night, far enough away to not attract attention from the crowd, she headed over to the Freight Office. She was to leave at daybreak, driving a team for Rogerson. He'd been grudgingly impressed when he saw how she handled a mule team and reckoned he'd give her a chance to go out West with a train hauling all kinds of goods: flour, coffee, liquor, beans, sugar, salt, bolts of cloth and other goods to trade and placate the natives as well as outfit the frontiersmen blazing new trails.

Jacob snuffled his consent and followed her quietly as she went down the side road to Rogerson's. For all her calm, her heart was triphammering in her chest to beat the band. Terrifying images of huge shawdows cast in the light of torches carried by the angry mob looked as though the devil himself was afoot this night. She said a silent prayer for anyone caught up in the melee and for her own safety. Turning the corner, she left the crowd behind. With only a half a block to go, she urged Jacob on, though in typical mule fashion, he was in no hurry. In fact, her urgency and the furour of the crowd frightened him. He did a little quick step and sashayed his behind to the side of her, causing her to slip. Just catching herself by the reins, she managed to keep upright. "Whoa, boy'o, hie up, it's okay, now. No need to get excited, darlin'." She stopped and soothed him with a calm stroke along his neck and the soft part of his nose. After a moment of him blowing the fear through his nostrils, she led him on. Almost there she thought.

Suddenly, out of the shadows, a figure stepped in her path. "Well, well, whadda we got here? Where ya goin' boy? Or, is that what ya really are?" The man was tall and rugged looking with a mean sneer as he looked her up and down. "Sneaking off before the party gets going are ya?" He looked over her shoulder, standing between her and the safety of Rogerson's. "Lookee here, boys? We got a gen-yew-ine greenhorn here; a mama's boy trying pass hisself off as a man!"

As he yelled at his pals, Eldon drew a .36 caliber flintlock pistol from inside her waistband, stepped up beside him and stuck it in his ribs. Using her deepest, most powerful voice, she said, "Mister, you just shut yer mouth right now, or I will help you on your way to the Devil's Garden, right now!" Gritting her teeth, she snarled, "Tell your friends you made a mistake and be quick about it!"

"Go on, boys. This here's a, um friend of mine, no call to get excited, now," he hollered down the road behind her.

Eldon kept the pistol shoved right up against where his heart was. Jacob nervously shifted his weight from one side to the other.
"Now, Mister," she continued, "we are going to walk right down the street to Rogerson's Freight. Don't make any sudden moves or try anything, or I will kill you," she warned with a false bravado. Inside her stomach was roiling and her knees were shaking. Thankfully it was too dark for anyone to see and her voice remained steady. With her other hand still holding Jacob's reins, she reached around to the man's holster and drew out his gun, tucking it inside her waistband.

They walked on down the street, the girl-turned-boy-muleskinner and the drunkard rabble-rouser who'd missed out on the fun around at the lawyer's. As they neared the freight office, she yelled out, "Hey, La Petite Jean! You there?"

A huge, bulky fellow stepped off of the boardwalk in front of Rogersons holding a rifle across his chest with both arms. "Ah, the Leetle One has come with bon catch of zee night! What's zis? A nastee fellow, eh?"

"Yeah, Petti-John," for that was what she'd taken to calling the big guard. "He's a bad un' alright. Can you take care of him for me? I've got to get some shuteye before the sun's up and my mule needs a bit of a rest. Big day tomorrow!"

"Oh, sure, sure, Leetle One, for you I take care of zis son of the devil's harlot!" And, with that, he grabbed the ne'er-do-well by the scruff of his jacket and pulled him around back of the office to an alley. Eldon could hear sounds which made her cringe, soft muffled blow after blow on clothed flesh; soft grunts and curses made their way to her ears. She winced, then thought of what might have happened if she'd not been so close to the guard who'd decided to take her under his wing. Well, thank you God, for getting me outta that one she silently mouthed a prayer. Walking around to the stockyard and barn of Rogerson's, she took Jacob through, got him fed and bedded down, then collapsed in a heap beside him. Suddenly she felt very weak at the knees, her hands were shaking and she realised just how careful she was going to have to be. No more walking around, sneaking past trouble at night, alone, you idiot she told herself. She took the man's gun out of her waistband, checked the load and that of her own pistol, then laid them beside her on the straw. With that she fell into an exhaustion of sleep.