Date: Mon, 14 Nov 2022 07:51:29 +0000 (UTC) From: Justin Balancier Subject: The Denton Boys Part 5 "The Denton Boys" Part 5 ****** "Let's see their young fella. I got your harness right here, fit as a steer in pasture. Seventy five cents, takes her home." "That looks fine," exclaimed Sawyer. "A lot is happening in town today," looking at the street bustling with people, buckboards and horses," continued Sawyer. "Yep, money flows when the wranglers come to town. They work for $35.00 a month in wages and drop it in the saloons on whisky and gambling." "It sounds like a waste to me," said Sawyer. "Nah, they look forward to whoopin up, to clear the monotony from bouncing around on a saddle every day. Of course a whore is extrey, for those who want to do it" "It is the cash, the crazy spending on whisky, that wives get furious over the most. Just a boot lickin tragedy that women can't control their husband after a trail drive. They wanted the saloons closed, but were booted out of here. There's nothing worse than a bunch of riled up women." "The dance hall girls handle the drunks, bums, and saddle tramps any of which having $2.00 and can wait their turn. It is a doozy for the bar owners. It keeps the cowhands waiting and drinking. Yess-sir, a guarantee, return visit every time. Why it's better than money in the bank," continued Earl. "That's what I'm hear-in," said Sawyer, but I'm engaged and whores ain't for me." Sawyer was storyin (lying) to fit in. "Good luck there, young feller. When yuh gettin hitched?" "Any day now – any day now." "Hee hee-hee," mumbled Earl, walking away. "Any day now! That's a good one, slurring the words. Jesse could pay a whore all he wanted, but Sawyer fancied no part of that. He had something the saloon women would never have. He had Chad, a roaring cowboy, who filled his empty time, coming together with realism. ****** Time was moving on, so Sawyer began looking for his brother, hoping he wasn't drunk in a ditch somewhere. Jesse was slick as a mountain lion, and tough as nails. It would take a big critter to get the best of him. Still he was concerned. Whisky was a different hammer, and Jesse was ripe for anything after a few drinks. It was a silly notion, but he didn't want to go back to the farm not knowing where he was in town. His pa spoke about learning certain things, to both his sons. He believed teaching the boys about women and sex, wasn't necessary. Their ma was different. She claimed there is something to gain from learning, so absorb whatever you can, about everything. Sawyer loved his pa, and cherished his ma. She was the glue holding the family together with nothing but common sense and home cooked meals. Sawyer hadn't experienced a great deal of living, but didn't need to know what he didn't know, when it came to saloon whores. After, being with Chad, he felt much smarter about a connected to sex. Sawyer went to the corrals to wait for Jesse. He hopped up on a rail fence waiting and looking around. He always felt comfortable around cattle and they seemed like friends to him. He started counting the number of cattle in the yard for something to do. Sawyer counted, and recounted, heads of cattle, getting nowhere and becoming frustrated. He hopped off the rail fence and decided to go looking for Jesse. It wasn't much of a challenge, all he needed was to find a saloon. He didn't fear the worse because Jesse was not stupid and could handle himself with intelligence or muscle, if he had to. He snickered thinking, suppose Jesse went home with a black eye or bruises on his face. Whoo, a scary thought, although they were men in their twenties, their pa definitely set the rules on the farm. Smack in the middle of town set the "Ranch Saloon" It had the typical swinging doors, a bartender with a shotgun, gamblers, beer, whisky (no champagne) and sarsaparilla, tasting like licorice/wintergreen. When a city dude wandered into the Ranch Saloon, wanting something nonalcoholic, they got sarsaparilla. There was no music playing only an upright, out of tune piano, for whomever banged away thinking they had talent. Sometimes when a cowboy was drunk, he would start singing creating a scary chaser to go with a shot of hard whisky. Everything was out of tune – the cowpoke and the piano. Best of all, the Ranch Saloon, had girls, girls, girls... They sat with the men getting free drinks. Going from cowboy to cowboy, they snuggled, and collected a few buck for time upstairs poked by a horse smelling cowpuncher with cash in hand. Fights happened only seldom. What did occur was "a scuffle" causing the sheriff to arrive. Sawyer watched through the swinging doors, hesitating to enter. He didn't spot his brother Jesse, and the cowpokes were not worth looking at. He did however see the woman called Fanny. She was slurping whisky, snuggled next to a grubby prospector who must have made a gold strike. ****** "Watch that elbow yellow-belly. Move your bad ass out of here and let a man through," said a rough looking cowpoke, short on manners, and long on stink. "Gosh, sorry, I didn't see you behind me," said Sawyer, being polite. "Awe, the sissy feller said, "gosh," did your mama teach you that farmer boy?" He bellowed ready to hit Sawyer in the face. "You better get movin, I see a heap of fracas, you can't handle, coming your way," said Chad, who mysteriously came up behind Sawyer. "You know this tin eye coyote?" he said to Chad. "Beat it, you're pissin me off and you won't like it," spouted Chad, tough and determined. He grunted pushing down his hat, wiped his stringy beard with the back of his hand, and walked into the saloon. The spat ended as quickly as it started, once Chad got there. "I saw you here in front of the saloon, so I'm joining you. Did you find Jesse yet?" Chad asked. "I could have handled that bearded donkey," interrupted Sawyer. "Probably, but not when I'm around; If you get punched, I feel it, and I wasn't about to spend the rest of the day hurting. It is not complicated stuff. I'll help look for Jesse. I know the town, and the people best to avoid." "I'm obliged. That would help. Maybe I should just go back to the farm alone. Jesse is old enough to take care of himself; still, pa will ask questions for which I have no answers. "Nah, you're stuck with me a bit longer," boasted Chad. "We might have to do some ass kickin, but it shouldn't come to that. I know Fanny; she is the glamourous one going after men for money. She pulled that shit on me and I went along with it." "You mean upstairs, for $2.00 dollars?" Sawyer asked. "Not Fanny, she's $5.00 dollars. "She does have good tits," agreed Sawyer. "Nah, she's nothing worth remembering, definitely not for me. I'll take Sage Brush Creek, a place where cowboys can ride the range." Sawyer knew where his pecker wanted to go to get warm. Sage Brush Creek was something he wanted to do again and again. Chad had opened a whole new world for him. "C'mon, let's start with Fanny. She doesn't miss a trick and has probably screwed Jesse's pecker off by now. I'll show yuh how these mama whores work!" declared Chad. "Shore `nuff, let's see what yarn she comes up with," declared Sawyer. "Do me a special, Chad continued, "Don't go pecker poking one of these saloon cats. I put my claim on you, at Sage Brush Creek." "Yep, there is only one hole I want to poke," agreed Sawyer. "You got it, little man." "I ain't little," grinned Sawyer. "That's for dang sure. Your secret is safe with me," Chad replied. ****** To be continued... A friendly reminder, please consider Nifty whenever possible. Thank you.