Chapter Text
Jack “Spud” Tarpley was a man who didn’t say much. He had spent most of his life alone, running or riding away from all the dangers of the wild west. Like similar nameless figures in the American frontier the story of his family went like this; A young Tarpley Sr. takes his new bride out to California to try his hand at gold mining. His information was woefully out of date, as they arrive at their stake, Tarpley Sr. tries in vain for several months as his now heavily pregnant wife begs him to return to civilization.
Finally giving up and returning to town only to discover most people have long gone, and only the rest of the late-comers remain at the saloon drowning their failures in whiskey. The Tarpleys agree to bring the old woman who cooked for the saloon with them, taking her back east to her daughter’s family. On the way back, Mrs. Tarpley is forced to deliver her child on the road with the guidance of the old cook. Sadly the young woman died during the ordeal, leaving her husband who was the typical nasty and stubborn type to resent the child who took his only happiness from him. The new father took the cook as far as Texas where she could take a train east, and where he could find someone to look after the son he hated.
Whatever land Jack called home at the time never stuck to his clothes for very long, whether he was run out of town, or left on his own passing as a shadow in the night. It was just such an occasion that he found himself riding out of El Paso for a tiny little town that hopefully hadn’t heard of him as of yet.
About 2:35 in the afternoon Jack rode into Tumbleweed, New Austin. No one did acknowledge the stranger in a green shirt stopping at the saloon, giving his chestnut pinto a treat, and heading in towards the bar. Jack stood there with a small glass of not particularly high quality rye, considering the poker game in the corner thinking he would join if he had any coins to spare. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh as the fiery drink washed the dust from his throat. It felt good to clear the past few days of travel like this, and was somewhat relieving to be around people again, to know someone would be around if you suddenly dropped dead.
A commotion arose at the poker table, “Are you callin’ me a liar?” A man was standing, one foot up on his chair, waving his arms about wildly. As the small scuffle petered out due to the cowardly nature of the accuser, Jack realized he recognized the angry man. Elwood Reeves was a quick tempered fellow who was always darkening the door of the nearest game hall. It was a coincidence to see him here, since Tumbleweed didn’t have any convenient rail lines.
Elwood suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and whipped around to see who it was. A familiar sight befell his eyes and he relaxed the tension in his shoulders. “Jack!” Elwood exclaimed, feeling much the same as his friend did, “what brings you here? Come to buy me a drink and pay back that money I lent you?”
Jack chuckled and waved off Elwood’s concern about the small debt. “It was only a few cents, you buzzard. And I know better than to give you money, I might as well just give it right to the dealer.”
Elwood set his jaw, annoyed by his friend’s dismissal and the attention to his frivolity towards gambling. “Well if it's not to pay me back, what’s brought you around here?” Elwood looked at Jack quizzically as they moved towards the bar. The men continued with their small talk while they each nursed a drink.
Jack told his cohort about the loose string of events that led to him leaving California and traveling east. The conversation eventually ended in an agreement to ride together, at least 'til Saint Denis. Likely to get to the high rolling card games, Thought Jack, and to try and squeeze a few bucks out of me on the way, to pay for it. The evening went on and when the two men were fully inebriated, they stumbled off to their respective camps, agreeing to meet in the morning, to stock up on a few supplies and set off together.