No Man's Land a serial by Timothy Fogg

A young man who dreamt of being a gunfighter finds himself caught up instead between large landholders and homesteaders in the Old West.

Gunfighter - The rain had finally soaked through my hat and was slowly, excruciatingly slowly, dripping down the back of my neck. That was the finishing touch that made my day complete. Now, as night approached, I was ready to chuck it all, give up my far-flung ideas and just head back east. I thought things could not get worse. As usual in such cases, I was wrong. 

Brascom Flat - I had made an enemy, and I didn't know why. Usually when you save a man's life you get some notice of gratitude, if not a downright thanks. Hastings acted like I had done him an injustice when I shot that snake. Why?

Graves - No man's land. As I looked across it I could nearly smell the black powder smoke and the moans of the injured. This was more likely to happen than it had looked at first, for not only would Drisco be pushed - the Navajo nation would be infringed upon and they might go on the warpath, who could blame them? I scratched my head. How could have a poor hill boy like me got into such a tangled scheme? I remembered Pa telling me when in doubt forge forward so that was what I was going to do.

a land of opportunity - With the hard work of digging the graves behind us, we had cleaned up and were now gathered in a somber group to say goodbye to people we had never even known. I had heard the women saying it was a shame they couldn't hold a proper wake. I understood their sentiments - back home a little settlement like mine would all come together to tell stories, pray, and like as not break out a bottle of moon. Then the stories would become rowdy, but much more funny. Of course, at this point the women would steer the men outside, and there would actually be two wakes, one somber and the other often as not hilarious.

keeping the ranch - The sniper's trail was easy to pick up. It should have been, for after all, he was leading my horse. I almost left the trail and went directly to Drisco's ranch, but it was a good thing I didn't. The unknown gunman cut off the trail on the opposite side from the ranch and headed northeast. This had me scratching my head, for it was totally unexpected. The fellow was full of surprises; for he had left his spent brass where it landed, and it turned out he was shooting a 32-20. 

Good evening, Miss Smith - I had ridden up to Kirbyville to try to find out more about the man who had sent them on this wild goose chase. When they heard I was all done at Drisco's, they all but carried me on their shoulders. Standing very upright in his run-down homespun, Noah Cross had a look of joy and relief on his face. He must have still had a slim doubt about me until now.

trying to start a war - Four days later, I rode down the main street of Flagstaff. This wasn't an 'end of the line' town, at least not now, but it remained a wild and wooly place for young men fairly fresh from the East. The travelers of the railroad were as varied as the vistas they had seen on their travels on that road. Miners, lumbermen, cowboys, Europeans, Chinese, English barons - all were in a hurry to get somewhere, for the boom mentality was on them. They all thought that if they could hit the right place at the right time, they would be rich. I suppose they were correct, if they could find that combination of time and place.

All the good ones are married. - The reception I received at Kirbyville wasn't as extravagant as the one I got before, but it was warm nevertheless. I was surprised at the changes that had occurred in the short time I had been gone. Neatly spaced soddies had been erected, and fields had been laid out and plowed. There was a main street staked out for the town, and already three buildings were up. One was a livery, and its owner said he would rather shoe horses than plant seeds any day. Even if the horses kicked. 

An obvious distraction - I caught Laura and shoved her down in back of a rock pile with instructions to stay there. Then I raced to see what the commotion was all about.

Common sense - When I came to the light felt like a branding iron being shoved into my eyes. It was some time before I could open them just a little bit, and then what I saw made me shut them fast. After a while I tried it again. There was something reflecting light, and slowly it took the form of a badge. Darn it, that was what I thought I saw the first time.

a little Eden - I had a roughly drawn map of the territory that looked like it might have been a copy of one of the old indistinct Spanish ones. What looked like a day's ride might take a week, and visa-versa. I was heading north, and the angle was wrong for me to see the Grand Canyon.

Gateway to the West - Penelope Grimes was born and raised in New York State, and ever since she could remember, she had been unhappy. Her father was a big, imposing man with thoughts only of power. Anyone that stood in his way got hurt, and Penelope had tried to stay out of his way. He did not mean to harm her, but he didn't care either.

I'm Penny - This is the profound statement I uttered to my horse as I traveled into Mohave County. I was in search of a trio of bank robbers that had stuck up a bank in Prescott and then fled for the desert. My horse did not answer.

worth trying - This is the profound statement I uttered to my horse as I traveled into Mohave County. I was in search of a trio of bank robbers that had stuck up a bank in Prescott and then fled for the desert. My horse did not answer.

The sound of gunfire - I couldn't stand to leave that unfortunate body face down in the pool, so I pulled him out and buried him below a field of scree. Then I pulled some of the loose rock down and that was that. My horse was eager for water so I took him to the next upstream pool to drink. Somehow I didn't believe I would ever drink from that bottom pool, even if years should pass.

beaming with relief - Her lips were silent. She looked at me with big eyes and simply stared. She showed fear when she looked over her shoulder, and I knew she was running away from something. It wasn't hard to figure out whom.

white man's world - This netted me a grunt and a nod. I gave up for the rest of the afternoon. Albiethy was in the lead, and I could see he was taking us cross country, not bothering to find the original trail that I went in on. I just sat back in the saddle and watched the countryside, content that I was in good hands.

The walls are wet - I had seen the figure depicted by the bones in the silver jewelry that was widely made in Arizona. I had always thought it was a good luck charm. Now I was not so sure.

He'll protect me - Albiethy and I parted company on the edge of town. I had offered to buy him a good meal and whatever else he might want but he declined.

NOW GIT! - I hung around the town and the Cross house for the next two days and nothing happened. In the evenings I would make the rounds down Kirbyville's main street, sometimes by myself and sometimes with Noah. One evening when I was by myself I found out what Noah had been talking about.

The sound of footsteps in water - I looked around for watchers then adjusted the hat for the umpteenth time. Well, actually it was the hat of Adam Cross. It was too tight, and when pulled down snugly, it made the top of my head go to sleep. It was a good match for the coat that restricted the shoulders and the pants that nearly made me look like I was going wading in a stream.