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"We're not looking for trouble with you people, but we are looking for some robbers." The lead lawman told them. He was a tall, lean man, of probably fifty and his brown hair was quickly turning silver. He wore glasses, but something of his demeanor spoke of toughness and downright meanness. He didn't smile, nor bother with manners. He spit his tobacco on the floor, aimlessly, uncaring. They all wore long coats and carried long rifles.
All the trappers began to gather around with frowns on their faces at how these men had burst into their cabin.
"Well for one who isn't lookin' fer trouble you are sure goin' about it the wrong way, mister." Ferg bristled a bit, then came up to the group. He eyed the man doing all the talking with perception. There were young men and old among them, none looked friendly. He counted six men, all armed and all frowning at him as though he'd done something to set them off. Ferg knew his size intimidated some men, but the leader did not budge. He stared at him with unseeing eyes, cold unseeing eyes. Ferg didn't like him instantly. He didn't like any man that pushed him.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" Ferg demanded to know.
"I'm Logan, I'm a Texas Ranger. And these men are my posse."
"Well," Ferg glanced around at all the men he called a posse. "We're mostly trapper's sir, this is where we winter." Ferg explained. "Anyone is welcome here as long as they behave. But I gotta say we ain't very happy about having guns shoved in our faces."
The lawman looked about. He didn't crack a smile, nor answer Ferg. He saw lots of hides strung up on the walls, piles of furs stacked toward the back. Knives and guns were also piled to the back. The women were cooking, and
he went to look at them. "Why are these squaws here?" the lawman asked. His gun butt pushing Snow Bird away from the fire.
"She's my wife," Matt came up beside him and stared. "And I wouldn't be trying to handle her, if I were you. She's done nothing wrong."
"Wife?"
"That's right." Matt stood his ground.
"Squaw man, huh?"
Matt didn't answer. He took an immediate dislike to the man.
Ferg came up beside Matt and Snow Bird, "A lot of trappers marry Indians up here. Ain't many white women you know."
"I guess not. It takes a certain kind to marry an Indian though." The man agreed, surprising everyone. "I never liked squaw men. Men who take Indians for wives are just too lazy to find themselves a white woman, or too ugly."
Matt firmed his lips, and tightened his fists, "Too bad, I was really taking a liking to you!"
Raz chuckled and the lawman turned to stare at him. Raz bristled.
He gave Matt a dirty glance as though he had no use for a squaw man. Matt didn't blink.
Thankfully the big Mexican man had pulled his woman down on the floor before the door ever opened to these men. When he heard their voices, he got very still.
"These men are rowdy, ugly, unkempt men. They been on the trail for some time. The leader is a no-good Mexican. They are wanted for a bank robbery in Texas. I aim to find them."
"Did they kill anyone?" Ferg asked.
"No, but they took $25,000 from the bank." The lawman stared at Ferg now.
"You don’t say." Ferg wasn't impressed. He didn't care about this man's law.
"You think they still got it?" One man asked from the back of the cabin.
The lawman glanced at Ferg curiously then the man that asked.
"I doubt they would have it on them. It's too much to carry this far. They probably buried it somewhere. We may never get the money back, but I do plan on getting their hides…."
Ferg seemed to study that statement a long time before answering. "Well, this ain't Texas. And you probably don't have any jurisdiction to do that here."
The lawman aimed his gun at Ferg, "I'm a Texas Ranger, and I always get my man. No matter where he goes."
Ferg shrugged.
"You seen them or not?" The lawman barked, his brows meeting in his forehead and the other men behind him cocked their guns, as they went around the entire building, looking from one to the other.
