Howden stood by the bar speechless. Drool ran from his open mouth as he stared down at the Judge Tumbler's body. The red halo beneath his silver fringe of hair had begun to set in the chill air inside the train and at first glance it looked like a mat but the glassy stare from the eyes told a different tale. Harriet watched silently from down the car; James would recognize the importance of what he was looking at, how it would ease his way when it came to pleading before the court.

Judge Tumbler had been against James from the start; he even threatened him with a gun. She glanced around at the others, angry that they didn't appreciate her position and how any money awarded should be all hers. An image of Rainey crossed her mind and she raised a tentative hand as if to touch the thought.

"Leave 'im be, Howden. Marshal said he wasn't a well man." Abner stood and adjusted his coat with an authoritative tug.

"Marshal was right. Dead right. The Judge isn't well... he's dead!" He suddenly grabbed his stomach and staggered toward the door, raising the other hand to his mouth. Loud arguing and confusion broke out and Penny screamed when Jean ran toward Howden shouting.

"Don't go out there!" She grabbed for his arm but he shook her off, slid the door back and stumbled down beside the track.

Jonas flattened himself against the back in surprise as Jean started down the stairs after Howden. "Hey! Wait!" He grabbed her and pulled her close just as a shot rang out and Howden straightened up, looking toward the engine.

"James, get back here!" Jean shouted again.

Jonas gripped her tighter. "It's too late ma'am."

A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face and he seemed to be puzzled about what to do. The second shot kicked him backwards into the snow with such force his feet left the ground. Jean screamed and sank to her knees sobbing. Jonas pulled her to her feet and helped her back up into the train, handing her off to her sister and then leaning against the door, feeling the exhaustion of the strain himself.

"What happened?" Abner shrank back afraid he might be asked to do something.

"Mister Howden's dead."

Harriet screamed and ran for the door where Peter and Hannah caught her, lifted her off her feet and forced her back down into a seat. "Mrs. Dingwall, please! There ain't nuthin' you can do for him and Devlin will pick off anybody who goes out there."

"It's your fault!" She screamed, pushing him away. "It's all your faults! You forced him out there when all he was trying to do was get me my money." She looked wildly around the stunned faces and then collapsed in a torrent of tears.

"What the heck is she on about?" Peter asked, moving away and absently holding Penny about the waist.

"I think we just witnessed a breakdown, folks." Cybil glanced at Abner who was sinking down into a seat on the far side of the car. "Somebody," she remarked scornfully, "filled her head with stories of a big payoff from the court in Judgement"

"I think we have a larger concern than that of Mrs. Dingwall's mental condition." Jonas said softly causing Cybil to turn and catch him mouthing the word gun.

Immediately she knew he meant her Derringer and she blinked noticeably to indicate she understood. The Bellows sisters had taken up seats beside Harriet and were trying to calm her down; Cybil prayed they would succeed. Harriet had tried to talk to both Hannah and Jean at one time or another and as Hannah listened to Harriet's rant about getting money she was suddenly very suspicious about Clifford William's death.

They were told he had a gun and yet the prisoner didn't. If he'd killed Clifford it seemed logical that he would have taken the gun. She left her sister and went to Cybil and voiced her concerns, suggesting that they somehow subdue Harriet for their safety.

Penny stepped closer and listened, clapping a hand to her mouth. "Oh my God! You don't think she... oh dear Lordy."

Cybil placed a warning hand on her arm. "I think we need the Marshal," she advised. "This group has already caused him enough grief one way or another."

Ryan was cold and sore by the time he reached the end of the lounge car. He stayed back from the very end and tried to see past the burned out dining car and up to the top of the prison car. The shots he heard he hoped were at Jonas' decoys and not Jonas himself; Ryan didn't think he could stand to lose another passenger. He took a few deep breaths and rolled out beside the car then counting to three, he made a dash for the side of the dining car, flattening out on the snowy ground and wriggling as fast as he could toward the end.

Devlin took another shot, this time at a hat, and he lowered his rifle thinking that they were just getting him to waste ammunition. He rolled onto his back behind the roof vent and checked the magazine. Ryan reached the end of the dining car and stood. There was no way Devlin could see him now without hanging over the side. He hurried along beside the cars to the front of the prison car and cautiously climbed the ladder to the roof. As he peered over the edge, Devlin was staring right at him between his feet, his rifle upright and surprise plastered all over his face.

Ryan saw the rifle coming down and he leaned over and fired the big six shooter. There was a loud bang and a scream as Devlin's leg flew up in the air and the rifle sailed over the side. Ryan scrambled the rest of the way up and stood, legs apart, looking down at a writhing Devlin, the big gun aimed directly at his face.

"It went through my boot and up my leg." Devlin grunted, squeezing his eyes and trying to sit up. "I can't feel it! I can't feel my leg!" Ryan could see the hole in the instep of Devlin's boot and knew the man was right. The bullet must have gone straight up his leg. "You lemme die like this, Marshal? What'll the judge say? I'm supposed to hang, remember?"

Ryan leaned down and shoved the barrel against his cheek. "Do not speak or move." He undid Devlin's belt and yanked it free of his pants then he slipped it around the thigh of the wounded leg and jerked it so tight Devlin bit through his lip. "I'm gone leave you here until I get some help to get you down. I'd love to just kick you over the edge, Otis, so don't give me cause." He took the end of the belt and with a grunting heave, lifted the roof vent enough to tuck it under and leave it wedged. Devlin wouldn't be going anywhere soon.