Snippet #928535

Frank was slightly surprised by Lee shouting for him. His body darted around, and he saw her pointing at a wounded man trying to escape. As he began reaching for a LeMat, he saw the lieutenant step forward and retrieve his own pistol, taking an exponentially goofy stance as he brought the gun out, reminding Frank of European fencers mid-lunge. He fired after calculating his shot, and brought the running man down in the dirt again. He proclaimed he would take care of the prisoner as the mysterious man from before picked himself up and got wobbly. Crystal was helping him stand. He was obviously tired, and probably lost a good amount of blood; didn't really matter, he'd get more. The man approached him with an open flask, offering him a swig. Crystal was trying to coax him into seeking help elsewhere, but Frank approached the two.

"It's alright, Crystal, he'll be okay. I tell ya, pard, I don't drink none of that stuff, but I do like to shake brave men's hands," Frank brought his hand to the man's, gripping it firmly with his tough farmer's hand. "Just make sure you don't bring no more trouble out this way, because we don't need none of it. We're good people out here and we don't need our candy and soda shops to be cover from flying .45s. Oh, and here," Frank retrieved his gallon-size canteen, blemished and beaten, from off of Tornado, and uncorked the top before placing it in the man's hand. "Drink up, pal."

Frank turned around, watching the lieutenant drag the wounded man to the livery. He chewed thoughtfully on the empty casing, trapping it between his serrated teeth and grinding away at the spare metal. The lieutenant struck him as a prideful young man, but one that didn't understand patience or blessings. He followed the two inside the livery, and spoke up once he felt they were alone.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing, kemosabe?"