Stephen shook his head at Sheamus's words and stood up, ready to leave.

  "No, no, wait a minute."

  Sheamus quickly grabbed Stephen. "This isn't just any horse, this is the real deal."

  Stephen shrugged him off and pointed to Little White grazing in the stables. "As it happens, my horse is also a real deal."

  Sheamus could tell at a glance that it was a fine Arabian, not to mention its snow-white coat.

  With that coat alone, Little White could fetch thousands of dollars from high society ladies or rich young men.

  "No, no, it's different."

  Sheamus hurried to explain. "It's a good horse, I can see that, but that kind of horse isn't for you."

  "You're a bounty hunter, not a capitalist looking for a showpiece. That horse is too flashy, and it's not built for combat."

  "But my horse is different. It's a purebred Turkoman, a true warhorse, made for the battlefield!"

  Turkoman? To be honest, Stephen was tempted.

  That was a Turkoman warhorse, the best of the best, the kind of horse money can't buy.

  "How did you get your hands on a horse like that? Don't tell me you found it on the road."

  A horse like that had to have a story. No one would give up a horse like that easily.

  He didn't want to ride the horse for two days, only to find himself with a bunch of pursuers.

  "I know what you mean. This horse is clean."

  Sheamus swore. "A rancher at Emerald Ranch, the one who's always drunk, he went bankrupt and owed me a lot of money, so he had to pay me with the horse."

  "So you don't have to worry about anyone coming after you. If you can help me, the horse is yours."

  Stephen nodded, finished his cigarette, and tossed it on the ground. "Take me to see it. If the horse is as good as you say, I'll do it."

  "Don't worry, you'll be satisfied!"

  Sheamus swore as he led Stephen toward the back of the stables.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "Come with me, it's in the stables back there. The horse has a big temper, you might need some time to get it to listen to you."

  "Heh, that's good. I have a big temper too."

  Stephen smiled and followed Sheamus.

  They walked out the back door of the stables and followed a small path.

  The air was thick with the smell of livestock and manure, and Stephen couldn't help but cover his nose.

  The pens were full of all kinds of livestock – cows, sheep, horses, everything.

  Behind the pens were several large tents with four or five wagons parked inside. It looked like they were getting ready to move some stolen goods.

  "You're running quite the business. No wonder people want to rob you."

  Stephen frowned. "How much money do you make in a year?"

  Sheamus turned around and smiled. "Just small change. No rich man wants to spend all day in a pile of manure." Stephen didn't believe that for a second. People who say they aren't making money are usually the ones raking it in.

  Only the ones who are losing money are always bragging about how rich they are.

  Before long, Sheamus led Stephen to the stables in the back.

  Sheamus struggled to open the large door and gestured for Stephen to enter. "Here it is."

  Stephen walked in slowly and saw a tall, dark bay horse standing alone in the middle of the stable.

  At first glance, Stephen realized that the horse was a full size bigger than Little White!

  No, maybe even bigger than that.

  The horse was incredibly strong, covered in solid muscle that rippled across its body, a striking visual.

  Stephen walked over slowly and gently stroked the horse's neck.

  Its coat felt rough, like bristles, a little prickly to the touch.

  If Little White was a white, nimble sprite, this was a powerful beast.

  It seemed curious about the stranger, staring at Stephen with its large, glassy eyes.

  Seeming impatient, it tossed its head and let out a loud neigh.

  Stephen quickly took a step back, afraid the horse might kick him.

  At that point, Stephen made up his mind: he had to have this horse!

  "What do you think? I knew you'd be satisfied."

  Sheamus smiled smugly, seeing that Stephen's eyes were glued to the horse. "If you help me, if you take care of those guys, this horse is yours."

  "I have another option. I could just kill you right now and ride off on it."

  Stephen turned to Sheamus. "Trust me, I'm good with a knife. I could kill you without making a sound."

  "No one saw me come here, and your men won't find your body for a long time. So no one will know it was me."

  Sheamus looked at the long knife on Stephen's back and at Stephen's amused eyes, and nervously swallowed.

  He was flustered, and after thinking for a long moment, he stammered, "Y-you wouldn't. You're a bounty hunter, you don't need to do that."

  "You need me. You need an honest black market dealer to help you move some difficult goods."

  "And if you help me, I won't dare... I promise I won't cheat you, and I'll give you the best price!"

  "An honest and reliable black market dealer who has connections is hard to find, you know."

  Sheamus finished his long speech in one breath, then looked anxiously at Stephen.

  The air suddenly grew quiet, and the two men stared at each other without speaking.

  "Where are they?"

  Finally, Stephen spoke.

  Sheamus breathed a sigh of relief.

  He felt his legs weaken and his back soaked with sweat.

  He quickly pulled out a nearby map and pointed to it. "Right here, just south of Twin Stack Pass."

  "There are about ten of them, all armed and tough."

  "Be careful, it's best to go at night."

  Stephen took the map and looked at it. It wasn't far from here. If he rode there, he could probably arrive by nightfall.

  He folded up the map, put it in his bag, and patted Sheamus on the shoulder.

  "Get the boy fitted with the best saddle and everything I need. I'll come back for him tomorrow."