14 hours

11. Holmes's cigar

"For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."
Bill didn't listen. His eyes were only fixed on the coffin which lay in an excavated pothole. He really wished he could open it to give that bastard a slap because of his chutzpah of doing his last exist too soon.
Now, of all the times. Why now? Why?
His friends seemed to think the same and looked how the visitors threw a handful earth or dried flowers in the still open grave one by one.
The participation of the funeral guests wasn't big. Maybe members of the family. He hadn't seemed to have many friends.
Bill drifted his eyes and watched the people. There were not many tears. Just a little sadness lay in the air.
For a moment he thought about what people would say if he lay in a coffin one day.
He narrowed his eyes again if he thought about the sheriff.
His thoughts were interrupted when one of the next to them standing funeral guest lifted his nose and sniffed. The man turned around and eyed the strangers in surprise.
"Is that women's perfume?"

It was quiet around them. Very quiet. The roadrunners rode slowly. The four gunslingers felt exhausted. For the rest of the day, they had spent asking people about Jeanny Thomson's milieu, but nobody knew something about his activities and some people in the little town were so drunk, that they couldn't give a disclosure. It was like the trace would end in smoke. Without success, they came back together to their roadrunners. It wasn't easy for the Gila monster to speak that they should ride back to Primrose Town.
Kinski took out his pocket watch and looked the time. It was late. Just a few hours until midnight. Very late.
Bill heard how he opened the time counter and gave him a hissing sound.
Quickly the rabbit let the watch disappear in his shirt.
It was a heavy atmosphere. The nightfall started.
Finally, Stump couldn't hold back a comment.
"If Sherlock Holmes was here, he would smoke a pipe or playing violin."
Suddenly Bill pulled the reins and stopped. "Could you stop with that stupid stuff?! I can't hear that anymore!"
The others stopped their roadrunners too. Stump crossed his arms. "Excuse me, that I want to bring forth our investigations."
"They are no investigations! Didn't you understand it?"
"Hey, don't vent your fretfulness on us!" Kinski defended. "We are all disappointed. Everything, including my victimized pride, for nothing!"
He was still angry that he had dressed as a girl without the wished success.
Silence fell. But it was a taut silence.
Chorizo took the courage and cleaned his throat. "I had never thought that it would be so difficult being a detective."
He swallowed the next words down, when Bill's cold eyes met him. The mouse ducked his head and waved his hand in an apologizing way.
When Bill was going to continue riding, Kinski was unwilling to allow that to the rest.
"Hey! What's going on with you?"
"What do you care?" Bill hissed back. "I want to reach that town before night falls."
Kinski quickened his roadrunner and came to a hold next to Bill, and grabbed his arm.
"I don't take your bad mood! I'm angry enough about your madcap idea to put me on that drag!"
Stump and Chorizo watched them with tensed hands. It wasn't good if Bill and Kinski fell together by the ears.
"Hey, guys," Chorizo tried to save. "We all gave our best."
Bill growled. "And why didn't it work?"
With that the Gila monster climbed down, picked up a stone and threw it away as far as he could.
Kinski left his roadrunner too, went over to him and put his hands in his pant pockets.
"Who cares? Yes, yes, it's annoying. Everything is annoying. But see it from the positive side. He will never badger us again."
At this moment Bill turned around.
"BUT NOT THIS WAY!" he screamed.
The rabbit sighed angrily. "Are you just angry that somebody else kills him instead by you?"
"Let me alone!"
Again Bill avoided his glance, but Kinski didn't want to stick to his guns and went behind the Gila monster.
"Why? Why is that so damn important for you?! Then it is how it is. He is gone. And had been gone either way. If a hawk had killed him, it wouldn't itch you."
"But not in this case!"
"Why not? Tell me why!"
"Because I wanted to prove that I have a better goddamn aptitude of combination than him!"
His three friends stared at him. Remembering the situation in the canyon a few days ago.
Meanwhile Bill had sunk back into a quiet tone. "I wanted to look in his gormless visage if he admits that truth."
He turned away in anger and kicked against a stone.
"So much for I can't investigate. Sleazebag."
He went away. Few meters more he sat down on a rock and stared nowhere.
Silently they watched their leader.
Meanwhile Stump and Chorizo had descended from their roadrunners and joined Kinski. The rabbit took out his watch and opened it. It was almost eight o'clock.
Then he put it away and together they came closer slowly.
Bill didn't pay attention to them and reached into his pocket and took out a cigar.
He felt Kinski's eyes.
"Don't say anything. Sod it."
Nobody said a word when he lighted a matchstick and torched the cigar. Following he took a big puff.
He listened how Kinski let down himself next to him on another rock which lay close to him.
Stump and Chorizo made the same and soon they sat next to each other.
Bill took several puffs in succession, then he handed it to Kinski.
Kinski eyed the smoldering stick, then he shrugged his shoulders.
"The heck with it."
He took the cigar and took a puff.
Then he peered over to Stump and held it out to him. The second rabbit sighed and dragged.
Shortly after he coughed slightly.
"You were too greedy for it, weren't you?" Chorizo joked and took the cigar now.
When he had finished blowing the smoke, he reached it back to Bill, who continued puffing. Nobody said a word.
Together they watched the sunset where the sun disappeared more and more behind the horizon.
Just Stump rubbed his throat and swore it would be the last cigar in his life.