Ethan lit another cigar and picked up a glass of redeye whiskey filled to the rim. He took a long drink and at the same time, handed two bullets to the barkeep. Philip slammed his whiskey and got caught up in a conversation with the man seated beside him.
"Gimme another shot," Ethan said, throwing another two bits on the bar.
Ethan took the glass, placed the cigar in his mouth and found a seat. He scooted back against the crude wall so that no one could walk up behind him, and watched an animated argument between two ruffians who looked like they had just stepped out of the woods. Things got a little heated when one of the men slid across the table top near him. He helped the hapless victim to his feet.
"Much obliged," the man said with a nod at Ethan.
"Stay out of their range," Ethan said as he nodded toward the boisterous crowd at the opposite side of the saloon.
"I'll take your advice," the old man said with a nod. "They never take my side. Have ye heard about the reward for that rogue centaur?"
He sat at the table next to Ethan's, nursing his shoulder.
"Heard a little," Ethan said, taking another puff on his cigar.
"The bounty's gone up another thousand."
"Not interested."
"You should be," the man said. "You are the legendary Ethan of Stockton, ain't ya? The greatest bounty hunter this side of the Rockies? You track both animal and human if I remember the tales right."
Ethan pushed his hat back and kept an eye on the other patrons. He suppressed the urge to smile.
"Some say that," he said and glanced at the candles' flames in the unadorned chandeliers above his table. "Mostly go after bail jumpers, and the like. Nothing legendary about that."
"I figured this rogue must be somethin' to stir up your interest in him," the man said with a grin. "As soon as me and the boys saw you ride into town, we suspected you were here for the bounty." He winked at Ethan.
"I haven't committed myself one way or the other."
"The name's Billy," the man said and extended a hand. "People around these parts call me Old Man Billy."
Ethan took the offered hand. "Haven't seen you in years. Didn't recognize you."
"I'll let you in on a secret." Billy leaned nearer to Ethan.
"I've been huntin' that stallion for years. And the others, too. Ain't no one ever been close to capturing him and it's doubtful anyone will. They say their life span is a lot longer than ours. He'll out live us, our grandkids and great grandkids, he will." Billy rubbed his chest. "I think I got me a bruised rib from those fellas."
"You took quite a tumble when you landed on the table," Ethan said. "I don't want to see him dead." He let it go, his first hint of his interest in the centaur.
"I want to see him in person. I want to touch him, to see if he is real or a figment of everyone's imagination like I believe him to be. Centaurs don't exist, never have and never will. It's unnatural and impossible."
"If you say so," Old Man Billy said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I saw one, up close. Twice." He leaned back against the wall to watch the brawl at the other end of the saloon.
"When?"
"Out huntin'. Didn't look like any horse I'd ever seen," Billy said and downed his drink with a glance at Ethan. "Escaped with my life," he said. "If you ask me, I'll tell you they are real all right, real as you are sitting right there. Remember the day like it happened yesterday, in fact. Me and Philip both saw one."
