Jeb woke to knock at the door, he pulled on a pair of trousers, sticking a revolver in the waistband. He opened the door to find a teenaged Chinese with his clothes clean and freshly shined boots. Fifteen minutes later, Jeb looked in the mirror to see a far nicer picture than earlier in the day. He had trimmed his wild beard and had the Chinese kid tie back his long hair for him. He traded his traveling clothes for a gray vest over a pinstriped shirt and black trousers, and the wide brimmed drover's hat for his old Confederate kepi. He kissed the Indian medicine pouch around his neck and hid it beneath his shirt.<br/><br/>Jeb walked down the main street of Onyx Landing just as the sun was going down. It was much cooler and more comfortable than earlier in the day. Arriving at the door of the Dusky Belle he paused to pack and light his pipe with opium laced tobacco. The stub of his right arm was hurting again, like a thousand needles in the skin. Taking three long drags off the pipe and holding the smoke in his lungs as he watched the sun set behind the mountain in a brilliant show of red and gold.<br/><br/>The drug and nicotine taking the edge from his pain, Jeb walked through the doors of the Belle, and up to the bar. "Whiskey, if you please." He tipped his hat to the bartender. Drink in hand Jeb turned to look at the interior of the cat house and all it had to offer.