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So we are - he answered to the cowboy as he walked out of the saloon - While we walk, I've been meaning to ask you... What did Maddox say to you about that dead fella you talked about before? - Crowe asked as he started walking.

-As I said, it was a long time ago, in San Acoma. I just arrived there, runnin' away from the demons of my past, and met the man at a mexican cantina. I was lookin' for the man in charge, the gringo, as the sheriff was known around there -I started walking to the main street too-. I had some trouble with justice back in the day, and wanted to know who was carrying the law in San Acoma. But in the end Maddox was not the one I was lookin' for: he was just a friend of the sheriff, who had just passed away, murdered. He started praisin' him as a good man, a good lawman, we shared a drink in his honor, and that's it. That's all my story with him 'til he arrived in Sabbath.

Crowe and Mayer get to the main street and watched Hurd disappear into the Registrar´s Office. They also the stable owner L.G. Moss pass by on his way to Harris´ store in a hurry.

I see - he said, looking around as he shrugged his shoulders. He had thought, erroneously, that that could be related to the incident with Maddox. But Mayer knew what he was there for, and if that was all he was saying, it had to be either because it was irrelevant or because he wasn't going to share anymore anyway.

Maybe we should go see what those fellas are chattin' about before going to Maddox - he suggested, changing his direction towards the mob. 

-Yeah -I said following Crowe-. You know they're talkin' 'bout Maddox. Looks like he's the only thing people's been talking in town since he arrived.

I guess people were worried. Even if they didn't know who Maddox was, you could tell by just the way he looked and acted. And in Sabbath, Bronson's territory, that meant trouble for everyone. Things were just running smoothly the way they were, and I guess people were of afraid of that stranger comin' to town to fuck things up. Messin' with Bronson was like messin' with Sabbath itself.

Crowe and Mayer followed the other men into Harris´ store. It was clear that the good people of Sabbath were genuinely worried about the recent events, and they needed someone or something to reassure them that things would be alright, that they would stay as they were. Nobody wanted Mr. Bronson to get upset.

A few blocks away, Hurd was watching in silence as Laura stamped her signature on a piece of paper. The Registrar Dusaine was fondling with his pocket watch, eager to get the matter sorted. Furthermore, as a member of the Citizen Council, he was expected to attend the meeting.

Hurd himself had put his mark earlier on. He could not help to notice how a simple piece of paper could irremediably change a man´s life for good. A paper to own land. To sell or to buy. Or to get married. Or a warrant for your arrest. No matter how far West you came, the damn papers would follow sooner or later.