Author's Note: The setting is the first episode in Season 1. And the usual disclaimer - the characters from the drama The Young Riders are the copyright of Ogiens/Kane. I have merely borrowed them for amusement and non-profit fun. If an infringement have been done please alert the web-mistress!

He was full of confidence as he rode into the small town of Carnegie, the important documents he was supposed to hand over to a captain Durgan at Camp Wichita, safe in his inner pocket of his jacket. Teaspoon had told him to pick up some additional documents in this town and as he rode into it he wondered why. He hadn't seen a rougher town and there was basically nothing there except a few saloons, the sheriff's office, a broker, a bank and a few suspicious-looking hotels. Well, not that he minded. Anything was better than the station and Emma's talking-to on proper behavior. He halted his horse outside one of the hotel that looked less run-downed. Placing the saddlebags over his shoulder he looked around and walked onto the boardwalk and into the hotel. There wasn't anyone around so he simple ringed the bell. It took a few minutes before a small man emerged from a room behind the counter.

"I need a room," Jimmy stated and to his relief the man handed over the key with just one look at him. Without asking any questions or asking him to sign any register, the man simply pointed up the stairs.

"Room 22, second door on the right. Pay in advance - $5."

Jimmy, who was too tired to be bothered by the man's apparent lack of interest, grabbed a few bills from his pocket and handed them over to the man who immediately disappeared into the room again. There was something suspicious about the man's behavior, but Jimmy shrugged and walked up to the room. He would just get the document tomorrow morning and then he'd be on his way again.

The room was sparsely furnished and Jimmy dropped his hat and bags on the bed and walked over to the window, glancing out on the street. There were some movements on the streets but on the look of it, the town appeared to be an ordinary town, not too prosperous, home only for a few people, but mostly occupied by by-passers like himself. With a sigh he removed his gun belt and poured some water into the basin. He wouldn't have minded a bath but he was tired and more than that, hungry. He splashed water in his face and after feeling somewhat refreshed he left the room.

A few minutes later he walked into one of the saloons with only one goal in mind - to get himself something to eat before he hit the sack and got some sleep. As he approached the bar, parts of Teaspoon's rules slipped into his mind and although he loathed rules, he heard himself ordering in a sandwich and a sarsaparilla. When another man by the bar started chuckled, Jimmy glared at him and purposely moved his coat to the side, showing off his revolver. The man quickly moved out of his vicinity. However, Jimmy took neither pride nor relief in the action. A few months back, the knowledge that others feared him would have boasted his confidence, but with a few weeks under Teaspoon's supervision had changed him. Hell, a few months back he would have ordered himself a whiskey rather than the sarsaparilla he now found placed before him. He nodded his thanks to the bartender, who threw him a warning glance.

"I won't have any trouble in my saloon, do you hear?" he said shortly as he placed the sandwich before the young rider. Jimmy nodded and thought to himself that he had no intention of starting anything. If he only was left alone, there wouldn't be any trouble. Without a word he grabbed the sandwich and his drink and moved over to a small table in the corner of the room.

He was halfway through the sandwich when the scraping of chairs made him look up. Two men stood around the table as two more pulled out the chairs and sat down opposite him. He looked at them with irritation.

"I didn't ask for any company," he said angry.

"If I were you, son, I wouldn't be so cocky," one of the men replied. "Just take it easy and no harm will come to you," the man to his right replied.

"What do you want?" Jimmy demanded.

"That paper you're carrying to Camp Wichita," the same man spoke again as he leaned forward. "Just hand it over, nice an' easy, son."

"What paper?"

"I ain't got time for playing games. You know damn well what I'm talking about - hand it over?"

"Even if I know what you're talking about," Jimmy objected, "why should I hand it over to you?"

The man on his right shook his head sadly.

"Don't be foolish, boy," he said with a hard tone in his voice as Jimmy heard the sound of somebody cocking a gun. "There's a gun aimed at you under the table, and I tell you that my friend over there has no trouble of pulling the trigger."

Jimmy looked at the man opposite him and saw him grin devilishly at him. The same grin was also seen on the two men standing. There was no reason for Jimmy not to believe them. But still he refused to move. The man to his right sighed and reached for Jimmy's jacket. Without changing his face he simply removed the papers from Jimmy's pockets. For a moment Jimmy contemplated reaching for his gun, but then his sense got hold of him. If he tried to draw, he would be dead within in seconds.

"Really, son," the man said with a smile as he quickly checked that the papers to verify that it was the once he were after, "somebody should have taught you to keep documents at a better place than the pocket."

The man tucked the papers into his own pocket and rose.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, son," he said. "My friends here will keep you company while you finish your meal." And with those words the man left the saloon. Jimmy stared after him, unable to do anything, since the others still kept him under gun threat. He looked at his half-eaten sandwich but he had lost all appetite. He couldn't believe he had failed. How would he be able to show himself for Teaspoon, telling him that he had lost the papers on the first day? Teaspoon had trusted him with this mission and he was determined not to fail him. He would have to get the papers back, and he couldn't do it with these men hanging around.

"Aren't you gonna eat that?" one of the men asked and when Jimmy shook his head, the man chuckled and reached for the sandwich. This was the opportunity Jimmy had waited for. As the man bent down over the table, Jimmy's movements were temporarily hidden from the man with the gun. He grabbed the side of the table with both hands and then flung the table with all his force over the edge. The man opposite him was caught with surprise and Jimmy rather heard than saw the gun fall to the floor. The two men standing lost their balance and fell in a mess on the floor. Before they had time to recover, Jimmy darted out from the saloon, wildly looking after the fellow with the documents. For a few seconds he stared bewildered down the streets, looking in vain for the man, when a sound from inside told him that the men were on his trail. Without thinking he rushed down the street, now and then looking for the man, but more looking for a place to hide. He had no urge to take on three men, who, by the look of thing, were used to handle their guns. He darted into a small alley just as a bullet hit a wall close to him only to find it was a dead-end.

"Damn," he thought, thinking that this was the end for him, when he heard a voice close by.

"In here," somebody whispered and to his surprise a door opened. It was pitch black behind it and he had no means of knowing if it were a trap or not. He hesitated for a second, but as he heard the sound of the men approaching he quickly stepped inside. The door closed behind him and he found himself in complete darkness.

Please Send Feedback to nesciri@telia.com

Part 3