"Nevermind him, ma'am. He doesn't know what he's talkin' about." Jack said. He gathered up the fallen enemies weapons and ammo. He pocketed the dynamite, as wee as the double action. He tossed the Double Barrel to Knut, the High-Power to Vedlena, and the knife to John. Jack glanced at Bonnie. "Lass, we're so sorry for your loss. It pains me to ask, but... Can we take two of the surviving horses, as well as some medicine?"
The Snake looked around the farmhouse. The residents have obviously been gone for a long time; but everything was still in it's place. The Snake decided to sleep here, after he searched the home and found no one home.
The Snake wandered the house and stumbled across the master bedroom. He found a large dresser and looked inside. He found a nice westerner outfit that fit him nicely, and put it on. The Snake discarded his old clothes.
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"You gotta face it, miss. This place is gone. For now, this life..." He gestured around the burning ranch, "...Is over. I'll pay you a good price, enough money to start a new life." He held out two hundred American dollars, along with the equivalent in Canadian bills. "This should exchange to about $400 dollars, all in all. I'd take it, ma'am. Catch the next train to Montana, maybe. Start a ranch there, maybe buy some horses north of the border in Alberta with those Dominion bills."
The Snake decided to sleep for the night. As soon as the sun rose, he got up and exited the farmhouse. Glancing around one last time, he got on his horse, and sped off to Armadillo.
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"Those three horses your..." Jack hesitated. "Late husband, and those lawmen were riding, they're still okay. Give one to Knut..." He gestured, "And Vedlena, and take one for yourself, we can ride off and deal with those bastards that did this."
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John slid the knife into the side of his boot and walked over to mount his horse.
"Thanks. So what's next? We don't even know where to start looking for them."
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"Vedlena! Pick one of these horses, we have to get moving soon!" Jack said, walking over to the smouldering remains of the doctor's office. He managed to find some, penicillin and gauze. He appropriated the bottle of whisky from John. "Knut." Jack called. "Let me..." He grabbed the boy's arm, and pulled off the ragged piece of bloodstained cloth. "This is gonna hurt, okay?" He poured a splash of the whisky directly onto the wound. He began wrapping the wound with gauze.
Knut growled at the pain, but told himself to deal with it. In the life out here, pain was something he'd had to live with. He suddenly realized how lucky he was. In the last few weeks, and expecially the last few days, he had been in plenty of close-to-death situations.