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Choctaw takes off his gun belt and leaves it on the bar. He doesn't like to be unarmed but he's not looking for troubles.
He looks to the barman with an angry face and says:
- Fine!, but you can keep your bottle, only one shot and the tobacco. If I can't take out the bottle you can keep it for yourself.

Jack gives his gun to the barman also.

- One shot for me too. We are looking for Mr. Bronson or his foreman, do you know where we could found them?

Choctaw went through all his pockets for the money, and could only find a few dollars. He had purchased ammo for shooting practice during the ride to Bannock, and also a few bucks for the food and lodging. The promise of a good pay soon was not worth nothing before he got money in his pocket.

On the other hand, Jack was a much more organized. From his military days, he knew how a tent was set up and folded again. He also had a compass, a hunting knife, and the kit and caboodle. All his fixings were ready at hand.

The barman served two shots of whiskey, and took the gun belts for safe keeping. It was really good quality firewater. When asked about Mr. Bronson, he answered quickly: -Yes, Mr. Bronson is staying at the Bannock Hotel I´m sure, two shops that way. But he can be found at “Overland Freight and Storage” warehouse, across the street. He´s using a small office there to sort out his business. I reckon he must be a powerful man, this Mr. Bronson, since he´s been given a desk and all at the Freight and Storage. Harvey Stenbaugh has been here a few nights this week, he stops in for a drink or two before he heads to the hotel. I can leave a message for him if you wish?

Taking a slow sip of his whiskey, Jack tells Choctaw:

- We should go to see Mr. Bronson after we finish this wiskey. I would like to know what they expect from us as soon as posible.

Choctaw takes the shot in a flash. And takes the tobacco. He speaks to the barman first

- No, first we try to speak with him in person.

And turns to Jack

- Yep, finish your whiskey and we go to meet the man. I'm just bored to  death. I need something more than go from one place to another.

Jack and Choctaw finished their drinks, and walked across the street putting their gun belts back on. As they approached the Freight and Storage building, they could see a big strong man wearing a high crown cowboy hat and a long brown jacket. His gun holster was visible on the front as he looked at the two men approaching. As soon as they saw him, it was obvious this was the foreman Stenbaugh.

Harvey greeted with a nod, and seemed to recognize Choctaw. –Wait here. I´ll get the boss, he´s been waitin´ for ya.

Then he went in the small office room on the side of the warehouse, and soon enough came out again.

Vincent was much shorter than his foreman, and passed his fifties. He was wearing a hat on his bald head, and had a tired look on his face. Yet, there was an aura of authority that was impossible not to see. He walked out slowly, and lighted his cigar before looking at the two men. This was no doubt a powerful man. Someone used to giving orders. A man in charge of everything. In a way, a more dangerous than any gunfighter would be.

-You´re Choctaw and Dekker, he stated. It wasn´t a question, nor did he wait for confirmation. His time was money, and he wanted to get things sorted out quickly. –Did ya agree with Jace about wages already?, he asked.

Choctaw looks at the man. He looks very different than the bosses he used to have. But the old man seems to be more dangerous than all of them.

- Yes, sir. The terms are clear and we are agree. We reported us here as we are commanded. So, I'm not wanna be disrespectful,... sir, but... what do we are doing here? What do we must to do? What's exactly our job?

Choctaw is tired, and he wants to finish this conversation as quick as posible

-Son, if you ain´t wanna be disrespectful, just don´t, Bronson said and looked straight at Choctaw. He wanted to make clear he was the man paying the wages. He called the shots. –You are here because I am here. And ´cause I told ya to be here. ´Cause that´s your job. Nothin´ more. Nothin´ less.

Mr. Bronson looked at Harvey to see what he thought. They went back a long way, every since they fought the Comanche Indians to establish the ranch.

-You´ll get paid more than double the wages of my cowboys. Most days you´ll work same as everybody else. Help out with the cattle, or whatever I tell you to do. But when trouble comes our way, I want you to take care of it. If someone steals our cattle, I want someone to track ´em down in the high country. Find out where they hide. And do the dirty work. There was a time we would do it ourselves. But those days are over.

The cattle baron finished his cigar, and threw it away. –So, Choctaw. That´s the bottom line. You do as I say. You and Dekker are both good with the gun. The next time we get trouble from cattle thieves or anyone else, I will send you to take care of it. No questions asked. And as long as you ride for my brand, I´ll make it good for you. Are we clear?

Choctaw smiles

- Ya are very clear... boss. I'm just telling we just arrived here, with nothing to do yet. So, what's next?

-Good, so everythin´ is settled. You ought to put yer things in that hotel for now. We´ve got wait here until some of my men come back from a cattle drive. Then we ride to Sabbath.

Having said that, Vincent Bronson turned around and went back inside, leaving the two former outlaws with Harvey Stenhaugh

–Don´t worry. In a couple of days Vernon and the others hit this town, Harvey said smiling to himself. –And if they did the business, we will cause some hooraw in this town and drink all the firewater the bartender has to offer. It´ll be one helluva a fun night out in Bannock!