Moments after entering the small store, the group reappeared in the narrow alley with their arms full of the evening’s spoils. They were talking loudly, apparently secure in the knowledge that Four Corners was a lawless town… or at least, it had been until a week earlier.

“What about the rumours Larabee’s staying here?” one asked.

“I’ve heard he’s the fastest who’s ever lived.”

Vin pursed his lips thoughtfully. He'd seen Larabee draw. He'd never seen faster.

“I heard that he outdrew six men at once," another of the robbers murmured, anxiously.

“Really?”

“That’s what I heard.”

“As long as we don’t annoy him, he won’t annoy us." The group had seen Larabee stride down the street in Peter's Gap a number of months back, his black duster flying out behind him, his pearl handled gun glinting in the sun. “Gunfighters like Larabee don‘t involve themselves in other's business. They keep to ‘em selves.”

“And them others? Some gambler, tracker and a couple of others that helped out that circuit judge last week?”

“We can deal with them.”

Tanner snorted at the mindless bravado. The tracker fingered his mare’s leg and then stepped out in front of the group, cutting them off from their horses.

“Evenin‘,” Vin greeted, allowing his rifle to rest in the crook of his arm. The five men dropped their bounty and produced a plethora of weapons -- all straining to make out the shadowy figure.

He knew the town had no sheriff. “And what the hell are you supposed to be?” one demanded, squinting into the darkness.

Tanner smirked. He’d been asking himself the same question since signing on to protect this wayward town. Vin stepped forward into the light cast by one of the street lamps, his buckskin coat lifting behind him in the persistent breeze. Several of the group recoiled. “It’s Larabee!”

“No it isn’t. It’s that tracker we were told about. I’ve heard he ain’t so tough. We can take him.”

Vin’s left eyebrow arched and his mouth set in a lop-sided smile. “Who have you been talkin' to?”

The thugs glanced around at each other, concerned that this dusty pile of rags wasn’t showing any sign of being intimidated or alarmed by the fact that he was outnumbered by the armed group.

The leader flexed his shoulders and brandished a long bladed knife out in front of him. “Walk away, half-wit!”

“See, now you’ve gone and hurt my feelin's. I’m a mite sensitive to name callin‘,” Tanner responded, his trained eyes watching for signs of attack. “Now, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. The easy way will save your worthless hides. The hard way will make me annoyed… and you wouldn’t like me if I got annoyed. So, how about it? You return all that stuff and then we’ll walk across to the jail and everythin' will be just fine and dandy.”

“Give us one good reason why we should.”

“I realize this is difficult for you fellas to understand, but pinchin' things ain’t right… not in this town. Not any more.”

“Ha!” the leader spat. “There are five of us and one of you. Do you really think that one man can stop us?”

At this, Tanner’s eyes narrowed and a smile formed on his face. “Who said I was alone?” he whispered.

A shadow fell over the group – the outline unmistakable. The thugs glanced to Tanner's right and saw hell itself step out of the darkness… black duster billowing gently in the breeze. All of them screamed. Judgement day had arrived and their souls weren’t prepared.

Chris Larabee stopped beside Tanner and his lips parted in a smile, though only a brave man would call it such. Four of the thieves turned and shot off in the opposite direction as fast as their trembling legs would carry them. The final man stood transfixed; frozen in terror in the shadow of the most terrifying thing he’d ever seen. Without warning, his eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted, collapsing in a pitiful heap.

Tanner stared down at the unconscious bundle lying at his partner’s feet. Slowly he turned to Larabee, his young face displaying earnest concern. “You know, Cowboy, you are really gonna have to work on your people skills.”

The gunfighter flicked his eyes to his companion and a glare that could turn even the most resolute man to a dithering mass, rained down on Vin.

“Cowboy?” Larabee snarled.

Tanner winked, his bright blue eyes flashing with a youthful mischief his hard life had never been able to truly drive out of him. He'd heard Ezra talking about people skills earlier in the day. “Come on,” Tanner urged, darting off into the darkness in pursuit of the disappearing men. “They’re gettin’ away.”

Chris stood for several seconds before following. At what point had his life suddenly become enjoyable again? At what point had he allowed Vin Tanner to touch his life so completely?

The sounds of Vin and the robbers doing battle reached Larabee's ears.

“People skills,” he snorted, but even the territory’s most renowned and revered gunfighter, couldn’t help smiling as he raced off to join in the fun.