The Love and Treachery of Scrooge McDuck!

Love at First Theft!

1887

The west was baron this time of year-not that Scrooge traveled for the scenery but typically it would help lift his spirits after a long day's work or travel. America was marketed as a land of possibility and another one had just presented itself up north. Though winter had started to set in, stripping the trees of their leaves and the land of its warmth. He knew he would reach a town soon if he followed the river. He could stay the night there until he found a good claim. Then he would build a cabin by it.

As he walked the first snow of the year started to settle around him like he was standing still. He couldn't wait to be warm. The sun dipped and the light fettered around a small sign that read: Dawson. Population: Get out!

"Friendly place," he mumbled.

He found the town's saloon among the singular row of buildings and weighted up to the bar. The place was packed with working women, tired men, and children too small to watch after themselves. A menacing goose three times the size of Scrooge, stomped up from behind the bar. He was wearing a brown jacket lined with wool.

"Can'a help you?" Scrooge couldn't place the accent but it was unlike any he had heard before.

"Beans, biscuit, and tea if ya got any, good sir," Scrooge asked.

The man laughed and his stomach shook as he turned to another man behind the counter. He was an older gentleman. A lanky sensible cat in a typical white shirt and back vest of a barkeep and he did not look please at the other man's shenanigans.

"Bill, he wants to know if you have tea." He laughed again and turned back to Scrooge. "I meant, why did you come to town, boy? Can't you read?"

"Of course," he scoffed offended.

"Well, the sign didn't say welcome. Did't?"

"Leave him alone Diamond Tooth. I'm sure the man wants to buy his dinner and he'll be on his way," the barkeeper, Bill, attempted to shoo him but Diamond Tooth didn't move.

"Well, he better be. Otherwise, he'll be spending the night with me in th' courthouse." The man stomped towards the exit. "Oh and Bill, the same goes for y' if you let that girl back in here."

With that, he slammed the wooden door close and the hinges threatened to give. Scrooge turned back to the barkeeper confused. The man sighed and walked over to the back wall. Scrooge saw a thin line in the wood that could've been a crack in the panel if wasn't a perfect square. Bill hit a side panel with his fist.

"He's gone, Sweetie."

It fell forward making a ramp for a young duck, who was scrunched inside. She coughed at the swirl of dust. Her back was pressed to one wall and feet on the other, tucking her knees in her chest. Her head was tilled because otherwise, it would've hit the top. Her pink dress was barely stuffed into the space. The barkeeper offered a hand but she just rolled down the ramp, dragging her dress on the ground. She jumped up with ease. Scrooge couldn't help think she looked like a force majeure, which was to say a she was the embodiment tornado or maybe a hurricane. Her hair looked as if it had lost a fight with a beaver and her dress was wrinkled. Although with a flick of her wrist her hair was up in a nice bun and she patted her dress down.

"You're gonna be the death of me." Bill shook his head and handed her some shoes from under the bar.

"Never, Bill!" She kissed his cheek and disappeared into the crowd.