14 hours

2. Good morning, Mister Postman

In the next morning, Bill and his men woke up very early in a shed of Dirt. After they had been sure Rango wouldn't come back that night and in the morning, they had taken the liberty to sleep in the hay.
The sun hadn't come over the horizon yet and they left the town on their roadrunners. Near of a big rock, which lay next to the main street, they stopped and waited.
"He is late today," Bill muttered annoyed.
Impatiently he sat down on a little stone and wanted to reach for a cigar, but he put it away immediately when he felt the eyes of his companions.
Kinski grinned. "Did I think I would win my bet?"
The Gila monster growled darkly and pressed his fists together. "N-o."
Kinski shrugged his shoulders with indifference. "Okay, I just thought you wanted to smoke a cigar after we had bet that you wouldn't smoke for one month anymore."
Bill lifted his nose and crossed his arms. "I have a lot of self-control. - Is the water cooking?"
"Yes, it does," Stump said and stuck his thumb in the air. He sat next to a little camp fire with a bowl about it.
"He's coming!" Chorizo cried and jumped down the little hill.
They didn't have to wait long.
A stagecoach was running down the main street in high speech with a single stage driver.
In a relaxed posture, the Gila monster walked over the street and stopped in the middle. His partners followed his example and took up position behind him.
Nobody of them moved. Their hands on their revolvers.
The stagecoach came closer and closer until it had no other choice than to pull the reins. With a big dust cloud, it came to a hold.
"Good morning, Mister Postman," Bill greeted and lifted his hat.
The stage driver, an older postman and a kind of cat animal, lifted his hands with a sigh.
"Do you want to do this every week?"
Bill grinned and pulled on his suspenders.
"It's our duty to know what's going on in our town. Well then, show us the post."
Quickly the man climbed down and brought the postbag with the letters and packets for town Dirt.
"One day, one day I will lose my job because of this," he muttered while he handed the sack to Bill. "It's a violation of the post oath.
"Don't yak at my ears," Bill grunted and transported the sack to Stump. Bill emptied the postbag on a flat stone and together they rummaged the little mountain of post.
Stump took one letter after another, held them over the water vapor so that they could open the letters without to make a mark on it. After reading, they closed them carefully again with glue.
"Ho, ho," Kinski chuckled when he read one of them. "This one didn't pay his taxes yet. Nice default summons."
"Hey, Bill!" Chorizo cried and swung another letter. "This letter is anonymous."
Bill took the envelope and eyed it. "Mmpf, maybe just one of the damn silly love letters for Angelique from a secret admirer."
Kinski looked over at him. "Pretty unusual for a love letter. The letters of the alphabet were cut from a newsletter and glued together in words."
Bill shrugged with shoulders indifferently. But he had to admit it wasn't typical for such kind of letter. Thoughtfully he contemplated it. He rubbed over his chin.
Suddenly he guessed something.
"Open it immediately."
He handed Stump the letter and it didn't take much time until the letter was glued less. Bill didn't wait until he handed the letter back. He wrenched it from Stump's hand and opened it over the stone. A folded paper fell out. Together with a photography.
Kinski was the first one who picked up the photo.
"Hey ho, I know that face, don't we?"
He put it on the flat stone. All four bandits bent over it and eyed the photo.
"Mm, you seemed to be right," Kinski muttered. "They aren't planning to play with him only."