To Vin’s surprise, a young, blond woman strode out into the middle of the street, an old rife clutched tightly to her chest.

“Stop right there!” Her voice wavered with anger and fear.

“Get out of the way, lady!” the most vocal of the thugs cried. So, he was the one in charge, Tanner noted.

Vin’s eyes narrowed. He assessed the strength of the group. A dozen, all armed and willing to shoot anything that moved. Across the street, unbeknown to him, another was doing the same thing. Another, who had seen this all too often as well.

“We don’t hang men around here for no reason!” the brave woman cried. Mary was terrified, but someone had to do something! She couldn’t stand by and allow this to happen.

“He killed a good man!” the self-elected leader of the mob yelled at her. “Said he was a doctor, but he let him die!”

For the first time, the victim spoke up. “I never said I was no doctor!” Nathan Jackson was thrust up into the back of a wagon for what would be his final journey unless someone did something.

Vin’s cheek twitched. The victim was a Negro. Yep, he’d seen this too many times.

“Nathan didn’t kill your boss, gangrene did!” Mary remained steadfast in the middle of the street.

“Ya ought to be thankful we’re getting rid of this quack,” the thug in charged leered. “There ain’t no darkie doctors and there never will be!”

The woman took a step forward raising the rifle. “You aren’t hanging that man.”

“I said, get out of the way!" The thug shoved the lady hard, sending her crashing to the ground.

Vin Tanner frowned. The ruffian had just crossed the line. The mob laughed loudly, skirted around brave reporter and continued on their trek towards the small cemetery where all of the nameless killed in this area ended up.

Mary Travis climbed to her feet and stared around at the indifferent looks on the faces of the people milling around. "Are you just going to stand by and let this happen?!" she shouted before racing after the mob.

The young sharpshooter standing on the porch of the local store scanned the street. People were now rushing in the opposite direction. Vin cursed softly, turned sharply and strode into the general store, only to reappear seconds later with an unfamiliar rifle clutched in his hands. He had no intention of standing by and allowing a man to be murdered, or a young woman to be pushed around by some thug.

The owner of the store, Vin’s recent employer, raced after him. “You walk out of here with that rifle and you’re fired.”

“Hell, I’m probably gonna get myself killed. Now I’ve gotta worry about a new job, too.”

Virgil stepped back. Like the others in town, he didn’t want to become involved. Vin clicked the safety off. Suddenly, the young sharpshooter had a peculiar feeling. Not a prickling on the back of his neck or anything unnerving - more an awareness… but a strangely comfortable one. Vin had uncanny instincts – always had. At that moment, he knew he was being watched and that usually perturbed him. Why then, did he feel no concern?

Glancing up, the scruffy young man discovered that a man dressed in black was studying him from the other side of the narrow, dusty street. The other’s eyes were narrowed, his face revealing a natural strength. The revolver on his hip identified his profession.

Tanner’s and the stranger’s eyes met and in that split second, something nebulous took place... one moment in time... Something that neither man would ever understand, but that instant in time would mark them for the rest of their lives. In that single glance, trust, faith and loyalty, the likes of which neither had ever known, were established and written indelibly on their souls . Vin had glimpsed the other man’s spirit and he knew, without question, that the serious stranger had done the same to his.

The gunfighter inclined his head ever so slightly in the direction the mob was moving. Shall we?

No words, but Vin understood completely. The young man nodded his reply. Without comment, Tanner stepped out into the middle of the street, the mystery gunfighter joining him. Shoulder to shoulder, they strode toward the tree in the center of the cemetery where the lynching was taking place.

The crowd of mostly horrified citizens, who had followed the group of a dozen thugs and their terrified victim, parted so that the two foreigners could make their way into the small graveyard of unmarked headstones. The Nathan Jackson was standing in the back of the wagon, a rope around his neck.

Sensing the newcomers’ arrival, the ringleader turned. "Now what the hell do you want?"

"Cut him down." It was an order, but the speaker’s voice, while firm, was soft and dangerous - like a cobra waiting to strike.

“Go to hell."

"You fellas shot a lot of holes in the clouds back there," the softly spoken gunfighter pointed out, his hard eyes cutting his twelve enemies in half. "Anyone stop to reload?"

"Reckon you’d be happier if ya all just walked away," Vin added. The mob began to wriggle restlessly, each fingering their weapons.

Vin Tanner considered his predicament for the first time. He was in a town he’d arrived in only five days earlier, standing in the middle of a graveyard facing off against twelve armed men, with a man he’d never met standing at his side. It was crazy, but somehow Tanner instinctively knew that he and this stranger could handle it.

Fifteen seconds later, the battle was over. The ringleader had lifted his rifle, but before he could fire, Vin Tanner’s new friend had cut him down. Two other men fell before the rest of the group turned tail and ran. At some stage the wagon had moved and Nathan had ended up swinging by the neck. Vin Tanner’s right eye closed. He took aim at the rope. The sharpshooter fired. The prisoner fell safely to the ground, abruptly able to breathe again.

Slowly Vin rose to his feet. He watched the louts go, his young face coloured with the disgust he felt.

"Name’s Chris," the stranger beside the sharpshooter stated without prompting.

"Vin Tanner."

Their eyes met, both contemplating what had happened. Neither man trusted easily, yet the faith they had felt the moment their eyes had met some minutes before, was so complete that each knew he would never walk alone again.