"Enough banterin'. How about you level with me and explain what all that shooting and exploding was down at the tracks. What are you and this wet-behind-the-ears kid conspiring about?"

"Sheriff Jeddediah and I are reviewing the situation. You aren't the only one to hold offense against Caldwell, Doctor. A rival ringleader's boys attacked Caldwell's gang and blew up the track. I would guess they'll be at Sagebrush Crossing in about three hours. So, in short, we are conspiring to save your hide."

The doctor gave her a squinty-eyed stare and considered her words.

"Does this mean I get to shoot somebody?"

"Killing the most and winning the most battles isn't the goal here, Doctor Reynolds. Subjugating the enemy without fighting would be the ideal, but I doubt this town could manage to reach the pinnacle of warring excellence on even a good day. Direct fighting is a last resort. Besides, I somewhat doubt you could shoot straight, anyway."

"How about we step right out into the street and we'll just see who can shoot straight, missy!" Dr. Reynolds blustered. The truth was he hadn't had any Marshwalloper Joe's Snakebit Cure and Liver Cleanser that day, so his shooting was currently pretty terrible.

The Marshal didn't move.

"One, I don't have to prove to you that I shoot better, which I know is true. Two, if you aren't going to be helpful, I'll throw you into the cell next to Caldwell. If you really annoy me, you might get to split a cell with him," she took a sip of her drink. "Now, are you going to join us, or join Caldwell?"

The doctor folded his arms and glared at the marshal and reluctantly replied," You. I suppose."

Meanwhile in his cell, Caldwell stared at the ceiling and wondered how he was going to get out of this situation. Not just being locked up, because that wasn't much of a challenge at all. Being trapped in an utterly hostile town with an unknown amount of men surrounding it who intended to kill him was the real challenge. He looked up when the door to the office squeaked open.

"Caldwell. Been looking forward to this moment for a long time," the man standing in the doorway said.

"Do I know you? Robbed you maybe? Kissed your wife?" Caldwell asked. He noted the gun the man wore at his side and really wished he had some kind of weapon currently, even if it were just a butter knife. He could do a lot with a butter knife.

"No, but that gussied-up saloon girl that drug your sorry hide in here shot my boss and I mean to take it out on you. Now the sheriff's off drowning his sorrows over his poor murdered foster daddy you shot, so I think I can take my time with this," the man said.

"What're you aimin' to do? You can't shoot me cause everyone in town will hear you and this cell is dampened, so you can't use any fancy lightning guns. Guess you're just going to have to come over here and be a real man," Caldwell said. He sat up on the bunk and smirked at the Meyer's gang member.

"That's just fine. I brought something sharp," the bandit said and pulled a bowie knife from a sheath on his belt. He stepped up to the cell door and unlocked it with a versa-key (the possession of which was illegal in all states in the union and punishable by hanging in the crazier ones). He stepped into the cell and Caldwell promptly tossed the cell's chamber pot in the man's face. The chamber pot was not empty, which is way the bandit began yelling and clawing at his face. Caldwell popped up from the bunk and put his opponent on the floor with a quick knockout punch.

"Now what to do, what to do? I could make a run for it, but that means going out there and fighting a whole town of angry old ladies and then Meyer's men. I think I'll just sit here a spell longer," Caldwell said to himself. He drug the bandit into his cell, tossing the man's weapons outside the cell and closing the door after. He did pocket the versa-key though.

"Good," she said, smiling. "Go get Murphy, Edisson and McTimmus and tell them to start prepping things. Food needs to be sorted and stored, armaments need to be counted and prepped, and we need an exact count of our assets. Get the three of them on it; they'll know what to do. And Hugh, a cob salad, please."

Sheriff Moyer's metallic beer jug impacted the oak of the bar top, reverberating with a soft but satisfying thud. "I'm going to have to call a town meeting. The mayor is going to be doing back flips over this one. Heck, I'd pay to see the old man do back flips, he might even see his toes for once! Anyways. I'd best be going, but the bill on my tab. Thanks Hugh" Jed jumped up off of his bar stool. His leather boots hit the floor and drug him to the door. There he paused just enough to tun on his heel and look back at his friend, the Marshall.

"I'll, have everything ready for you when you are finished eating. But you get to watch the kid." Then, he pulled his brim down over eyes and made his way back out into the glaring sunlight.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Jed, remember that." Charlotte crossed her arms in a casual manner. Her tone was calm, but slightly firm. After Jed had exited the saloon, she took a sip of her lemonade, then turned to the Marshal. "What's your plan?"

((To any hapless readers aside from the writers of this RP, Charlotte's personality is very much in flux at the moment, so if her behavior contradicts itself in past and future posts, just know that I'm trying to figure her out. ))

The Marshal looked across the table to where Charlotte sat at bar, one foot jiggling slightly.

"Right now, I'm going to finish this salad. Then I'm going to go check on Caldwell. Once news of his arrival spreads, he might not be safe in there by himself."

Charlotte took another sip of her lemonade, draining the glass. She savored the last of the sweetly acidic drink while she thought about what the Marshal had said. One could almost see the gears turning in her head. After setting her glass back down at the bar, she nodded. "Good point. I'll come with you."

Neither woman said much as they made their way back to the jail, and vanished through its door. The Marshal threw her hat onto Jed's desk, then froze. The gun belt on the floor, with an unsheathed knife laying nearby, had caught her eye. Her hand immediately went to her own gun, and she slowly moved over so she could see into Caldwell's cell. She could see the form of a man sprawled out of the ground, and perhaps another on the corner of the bed, hidden in the shadows.

"Richard?" she called, not daring to move too close until she knew exactly what was happening.

Charlotte stepped into the room, her senses heightened. The edge of danger in the air did not escape her, and she was keenly aware of Thunderstick resting between her shoulderblades. She folded her arms and stood next to the Marshal, her gaze surveying the room. She gave the Marshal a questioning glance, unsure of what to do.

"Evenin', ladies. Look what I caught sneaking around tryin' to murder a not-really-honest man in his sleep," Caldwell said and walked over to the unconscious man. He drug him over to the entrance of the cell so the newcomers could see him.

"Meyer apparently got at least one of the men in this town on his side. Maybe even some ladies. Better make sure they aren't doin' anything crazy, like cutting holes in the wall or smashing up the turrets."