You are washing your clothes in a nearby stream to get rid of the dust ... and the blood . [ TT ]

Blood is a bitch to wash off of leather. Sheriff Rogers sighed, angrily. He just might need to buy a new vest after today. 
 
 Today started normally in the lil town of Spitlick. Coupla early drunks, lil fistfight between hothead kids, the works. Sheriff Rogers loved his lil town and made sure it was a peaceful place. It was n't till noon when he was made to remember why lil towns need sheriffs. Pastor Bronson, local priest, has told Rogers about a gathering of armed people outside of town, near the river. Bandits, of the Tall Joe Grimm's gang. Sheriff Rogers set out to meet em and things got ugly. They tried to shoot him, but it was a dusty summer and their guns jammed. So did Sherif's. They tried whipping him with those peashooters and he responded in kind. 
 
 Rogers paused his washing to wipe the sweat. Good thing he brough a winchester instead of a colt.
