<strong>High Plains Drifter----</strong><br/><br/>"Cool your head, Marshall. I'll handle this." Jimmy said, as he walked over, half-remembered lessons learned on his Indian Grandmother's knee coming to his mind as he respectfully greeted Howling Wolf, and apologised for the Marshall's words, before directing them to the Conaway Farm that was a couple minutes ride away from the town. "They owe me a debt for saving their farm from bandits, so they'll take good care of your warriors, with only minimal griping." Jimmy spoke as he then whistled for his horse. "Marshall, I don't give a rat's ass what you may feel about this, but if this thing is as bad as it sounds, then the whole gorram Territory's gonna go to the Devil in a Handbasket, and we'll need all the help we can get to drive these guys out." he said, as he clambered onto his horse. "Somethin' ain't right here...." he said, mostly to himself, as he looked back at the saloon, where he saw the Town Doc coming in to tend to the injured.