<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/ac/600full-kenneth-branagh.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Tommy Flanagan (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9819558#msg9819558)<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>None<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 20, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>afternoon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Around Town<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Walker, CLOSED<br/><hr/><br/><br/>So far, Tommy thought, things were going well. The sun was shining and he had a red man carrying his bag for him. After a bit of thought Tommy couldn't find much else to add to the list of positive things, and resolved to not bother with that particular ledger until at least morning.<br/><br/>Tommy was very familiar with the whippersnapper network, having taken the time to exploit his own back east ignorance, turning it into a solid reputation for over-tipping. He crouched down to their level on the dusty street and began handing out lemon drops as he talked, ensuring that even those boys who were fourth or fifth in line for the next assignment would stick around to hear what he had to say.<br/><br/>"Gentlemen! I'm glad to have found so many of you on such a fine day, because you all are about to make me a fair bit of money, and Tommy Flanagan is a man who saves a seat for his friends when the gravy train pulls into the station. For it just so happens that the lot of you are in a unique position to assist me." The small packet of lemon drops having been consumed, Tommy produced a golden eagle coin from his vest pocket and began walking it down the knuckles of his hands. First the left, from index to pinkie, then an almost unnoticeable toss to the right hand where the motions were repeated. Soon most of the boys' attentions were split between the polished shiny coin and Tommy's words, but none of them seemed fit to wander off soon.<br/><br/>"You see, my friend Walker here and I have a bet that you boys are going to help me settle. Listen to this, if you can believe it. Walker here has made the bold claim that Injun boys are just flat out<em>braver </em>than the sons of white men! Isn't that right, Walker?" Tommy looked over his shoulder at the Sioux warrior's plain, honest face, free of any sort of deception, and realized that he had begun running a two-man con with a walking side of beef as a partner. It wasn't a dead end, per se. Just a mid-course modification.<br/><br/>He continued speaking quickly, as if he had cut off the silent Indian in the middle of speaking. "He says that they even call their young men 'Braves' because if it, that courage runs in their blood like... what was it, Walker? Like the blood of the bear and the wolf?" Tommy made an exaggerated expression of disbelief toward the children. "So I say to him, I bet I can walk down any street in Gomorra and find half a dozen lads to prove him wrong. And here you are."<br/><br/>A second coin had appeared, as if by magic, and now as Tommy continued his patter the two coins chased each other back and forth through the lattice of his fingers, never quite clinking together.<br/><br/>"So then what does Walker say to me?" The glance over his shoulder was a perfunctory acknowledgement this time. "He says we'll put it to the Nightmare Test. Seems among his people the biggest mark of courage is the man -- or boy -- who can stand up to the scariest nightmare and then tell the world about it. Shows he's not afraid of anything, I guess. Injuns, you know? But his bet, so his rules. So we've just come from the Sioux camp and boy howdy, I have to tell you boys, some of those little red braves had some terrors to tell. The kind of stories that'll curdle milk in the next room over. But I'm not giving up that easy. There's ten of my white man dollars wagered against a stack of buckskins, not to mention the honor of my people."<br/><br/>He stood up again. The two coins froze in their chase, now just tilting slightly back and forth to catch the sunlight and play the reflections across the faces of the children. "These two and three more, then, for the boy who can tell a topper. Now don't try to paint a wooden nickel gold here, sons -- I've been catching out liars across the poker table for years, so it'll be a waste of your time and mine. I need paydirt here, the real deal, a gen-u-ine nightmare that'd scare the red off an Injun."<br/><br/>"So who will it be?"<br/>