Carl Weatherstein was not a man who did anything because his heart was made out of gold.

Mr.Weatherstein had no problem whatsoever in masquerading behind humble acts of kindness.

If he thought such a sham on his part would gain him an unfair advantage over anyone, he sought to eliminate.

He would gladly do so, without giving it a second thought.

Carl Weatherstein was the Devil himself, but when needed, he had the charm and grace of a prince.

Carl Weatherstein had been having his eyes on Peter David's piece of property for number of years.

He even offered Peter twice what his ranch was worth, but Peter each and every time found a way to keep the ranch in the David family name.

Riding into Peter David's Ranch

"Mr. David, I got some food here on the Buckboard for your family and for your Cow hands"

"Sam, I appreciate all this cooking ya did. Come inside and have a cup of Coffee with me.
I hear you hail from Pittsburgh"

As me and Ernie Tubbs got off the Buckboard Peter David motion for me to come inside.

I asked Ernie to come inside and have some coffee too, but he gently refused my offer.

" Sam, you don't know much about life out here on the Rio Grande"

"Ernie, I don't, but why do you bring it up ?"

"Sam, Mr. Weatherstein didn't have me come along, just to keep you, from getting lonely.
If ya get what I'm saying?
Mr. Weatherstein wants to make sure what belongs to him comes
back home"

"So, does that mean you're staying with the Buckboard Ernie?"

"Yes, I am Sam, go on and have some coffee with Mr. David.
I'll be here when you're done"

As I entered Mr. David's house.
What basically was left of it after the storm.
I sat down with Mr. David at his kitchen table.

"Mr. David"

"Sam, I am just a simple rancher.
You don't need to be so formal with me, just call me Pete"

"Ok Pete it is, as you insist"

"Sam, how do you like your coffee?"

"Strong with a little bit of sugar"

As Pete and myself were talking about his ranch and the people of the Valley.

Pete took notice of me fidgeting with the silver bullet that my grandmother had given to me.

"Sam, if you don't mind me asking?
What's with the bullet?"

"It's nothing Pete"

"If it's nothing then you don't mind me taking a look at it, do you?

"I kinda of do Pete. It something I want to keep to myself"

"Fair enough Sam, but tell me one thing.
That silver bullet ya got what's the number scratch on it?"

"I don't think it's got a number?"

"It does Sam, go ahead and take a look"

To my amazement there was a number scratch on the bullet.

" Sam I see ya looking pretty hard at that bullet you gonna tell me the number or do you want me to tell ya the number?

I looked at Pete with a blank stare. He had caught off guard by what he had just said

"Well, do you Sam ?"

I didn't say a word I just kept looking at the number on the side of the bullet?

"It's the number 15 isn't it Sam?"

I slightly shook my head to say yes, and then I said

"Pete how did you know?"

"Sam, my father years ago had a special client who had silver bullets made for him.

He also gave 15 different people a single silver bullet numbered One to fifteen"

"Why did he do that Pete?"

"Sam, the man who own the bullet you are holding in your fingers was secretly trying to restore Justice to the southwest part of our country"

"What happened to him Pete?"

He was murdered the morning after his wedding day.

By the very people he had put so much trust in
Sam, I want to ask you something?
Does Carl or anyone at his ranch know you have a silver bullet?"

"I don't think so Pete"

"Sam, You need to know something and you need to keep it to yourself.
Carl Weatherstein was also given a silver bullet forty years ago in El Paso.
If Carl sees that silver bullet, you'll be dead before sunrise."

I didn't ask how or why Pete knew such things, but it was obvious he did.

I just excused myself and headed back outside to Ernie and the Buckboard and headed back to the ranch.



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