The saloon doors opened, flapping shut behind the stranger. The tavern fell quickly silent, the atmosphere tensing up like a horse about to leap. But when he did not pull a revolver out and start shouting, the usual hubbub quickly resumed. Randolf the barkeep was polishing the various intact glasses still in the bars possession when the stranger sat down, gingerly putting his wide-brimmed hat down on the counter, keeping the scarf across his face. He had brown hair hanging limply down, with greasy brown muttonchops.
Randolf sauntered over to him and put the clean glass down. “Welcome to Lardkiff, stranger. What’ll it be?”
The stranger pulled the scarf down to hang loosely about his neck, revealing a rough face with a generous amount of scars. His eyes were curiously friendly and green. “Jeremiah Godwood, bounty hunter from the valley over. Milk, if you have any.” Randolf hid his surprise at the unusual choice, pouring a small glass from the glass jug beneath the counter. “Pay up front, out-of-towners don’t get credit.” As the bounty hunter fished a coin from a small pouch, he also put a sheet of brown paper on the counter-top. “Seen this guy around? Trying to track him, he’s got a murderously high bounty.”
As the customer began his drink, Randolf looked at the image on the bounty sheet. A rough man, face pockmarked with scars. The image had no colour, but the shoulder-length hair must’ve been brown or black, and the muttonchops seemed familiar as well. The man was smiling, one of the teeth coloured differently than the others, gold maybe. He was glad the Reverend had taught him how to read. The name was listed as ‘Jeremiah Gottwald‘.
Jeremiah smiled back at Randolf, gold tooth gleaming.