Lewiston had to go to his office and put everything on hold. He made sure that all new potential cases were forwarded to his PO Box. After he locked up his office, he hopped on the first carriage out of town that would take him to Atwood.

Atwood wasn't too far away, it would have taken him a day's journey at most, but Lewiston thought it might be easier this way. Leave his horse at a stable at home, so it would be one less thing to worry about when he got into town. He could focus all his efforts on the case so he could be done and leave as soon as possible. The fact he was going to share the same space and breathed the same air of that man, still sickened him, but he figured that sometimes you have to do things that make you sick to get what you need and this was one of them.

The carriage picked up a husband and wife couple in the next town over. If he had to guess, they were newlyweds. They still had that look in their eyes that they couldn't keep their hands to each other, and thankfully they were able to control themselves in the presence of someone else. Lewiston always found it awkward when people shared too much affection with one another in public. Although he would never show it bothered him. He would just light up another cigarette and focus on the smoke that rolled off the end instead.

"Speaking of which," he thought to himself as he pulled out a cigarette and popped it into his mouth. He pulled out his box of matches and was fixing to strike one when the wife looked at him and asked, "Could you not, please?"

Lewiston stopped and looked at her for a moment; she didn't seem annoyed or uppity, which put Lewiston at ease. He gave her a quiet smile and nodded as he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. Once he put away his smokes, he pulled out his watch to see what time it was, but when he flipped it open he forgot to look at the time.

Instead he looked at the smiley face that was on the inside lid. He drew it in there when someone told him that he should have a picture of someone special in his watch. Lewiston didn't have a picture of her, but he remembered that she liked to draw smiley faces on the inside walls of the school. That was one of the few good memories that he had in that school. So he drew the face in his watch to honor her. But now he was off to defend the man who-- His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the husband say, "Nice looking watch you have there."

Lewiston smiled as he closed his watch. They had been talking to just each other, ever since they got in, but it was clear that they were bored with talking to each other for now. So they now were moving onto him.

"Thank you," Lewiston replied.

"We are on our way to Lansing," the husband said. "Where are you going?"

"Atwood."

"And what's bringing you to Atwood?" The wife asked.

"Business with an old friend."

"Ah!" The wife said excitedly. "Sounds lovely!"

"It's always good to see people from your past." The husband added. "Helps remind you of where you come from."

"Believe me when I say, this man has definitely left his mark on me," Lewiston said with a smile at the loving couple.

A half hour later and he bid the happy couple farewell. The carriage drove off down the road and Lewiston turned around to take his first look at Atwood. It was a small town that wanted to be something more. You could tell when you looked at the buildings at the edge of town as they sat there almost begging to expand. Atwood was built on a flat valley that was probably just grasslands a time ago.

In the middle of town sat the Atwood Lounge Saloon. Lewiston felt like that was as good a place as any to start. He walked into what seemed like a high end saloon. It was decorated by lightly colored wood walls and floors. Bright oil lamps on the walls and on each of the round tables that had bright white table cloths. In the center of the establishment stood the bar, complete with a bartender polishing the glasses for the day. Lewiston walked straight up to the bar with his bags in hand.

"Welcome stranger," the bartender said as he put down his glass, "What can I help you with?

Lewiston set his bags on the floor and leaned against the bar as he said, "I'm going to be staying for a few days here, is this the right place to get a room?"

"It is indeed. This saloon is attached to a boarding house. Two dollars a week."

"Well hopefully I won't have to stay for that long," Lewiston said as he pulled out a silver dollar from his pocket and slapped it on the counter, "Regardless, let's start with that, just in case."

"Works for me."

The bartender opened a drawer and grabbed a key and handed it to Lewiston.

"Room number nine," the bartender said, "On the floor right above the bar. It's easy to find."

"Thank you." Lewiston said as he made his way up the stairs.

The key made a loud click as Lewiston unlocked the door to his room. As he stepped in he was greeted by garish red wallpaper in a room that was lightly decorated, but for the most part, was a bare bones type of room. Lewiston made his way to the dresser that sat in the middle of the wall on the left side of the room. Hanging above it was a mirror, which he looked into as he took off his hat and smoothed out his hair with his hand.

He left his hat on the dresser as he turned away and took a few steps towards the middle of the room and began patting himself down. On the inside of his jacket pocket sat his cigarette case and matches, the right jacket pocket had his pocket watch with the chain dangling out. In his left pants pocket was his money. Thirty five dollars with some loose change. And at last, in his right pocket was a small pistol. Lewiston had his tailor equip all of his pants with a pistol pocket. He had one too many run-ins where people didn't like the verdict of his cases. A gun is something a half-breed can't live without outside the reservation.

He pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open. It was almost six o'clock. Lewiston thought about what to do next. He could get something to eat and maybe even something stiff to drink along with it. But, no. He knew what he should do, he just didn't want to. It was time to face one of the main people he hoped to never see again. It was time to go to the jailhouse and greet his client, Archibald Cummings.