It was very early in the morning of the next day.  The sun was just beginning to show over the low buildings of Casper.  Jim Norrison's stomach tightened with anticipation.  He was supposed to meet with his friend, Dan, in the clearing at the edge of town.  The night before, Dan had confronted him at the local saloon.  Jim had watched as his friend quickly took down a couple of whiskeys and told him the news.  He had managed to round up the roughest, wildest, meanest, and most-wanted men in the entire west.  Jim had promised to meet with them at first light the next day.  And that was just what he was going to do.

            Jim rode up into the clearing and stopped.  In front of him was a large group of twenty men, all on horses.  To him, they all looked like the typical western outlaws with the exception of two.  The first was a man who went by no name.  He was about six feet tall and wore a long brown coat that went down to his tall black boots.  A dirty black cowboy hat was pulled down over his dark eyes and shaggy brown hair.  The second was a little man who went by the name of Blake Johnson.  No one knew what his real name was.  It certainly wasn't that.  It's said that when he was young, his parents were killed by the Pawnees and he was taken captive.  Everyone thought he was dead for years.  When he was fourteen, he escaped and lived in a small abandoned house in the middle of Casper.  Ten years ago, he disappeared.  People thought that he had gone to take his revenge on the Pawnees and was killed.  To Jim's surprise, he was now sitting on a tall brown horse right in front of him.

            Jim looked around at the horizon until he spotted his friend talking to Tom Pattik.  He rode up to him.  "Do you think we can get her?  And, more importantly, will these men help us?"

            Dan walked over to him.  "Jim, Jim, Jim.  You forget just how good I really am.  Of course, these men will help us.  Each one of them has some sorta problem with those damn Pawnees.  They've spent their entire lives just waiting for a chance to get even with them…and we're the opportunity.  Trust me, those Pawnees will wish they were ne'er born by the time we're done with them."

            "I don't know, Dan.  I trust you, but can we trust them?"  He pointed towards the men.

            Dan sighed and looked around.  "Do we have a choice?"

            "No…we really don't, do we?"

            "No…we don't."  Dan mounted a horse and rode into the middle of the group.  "Okay, listen up!  Ya'll been called here for a reason.  You get to go kill yourself some Pawnee."  He paused until the cheering died down.  "But…there is something much more important that ya'll need to remember.  The main reason ya'll here, is to get Rachel back safely.  Once that is good and done, you can have all the fun you want.  We will leave here at sundown and head north along the Domen River.  Until then, go get drunk, get yourself a girl, and have fun.  This will be dangerous, so this may be some of you's last day to enjoy yourself.  Go have fun!"  The group of men cheered and rode in different directions.