Anyways, the Good Lord at least blessed me with a Texas-quality skull, so I was able to regain my senses a’fore ALL the action was over. However, I fear I wasn’t entirely my right self comin’ to, as after I helped take out some o’ the Natives in front of the house, their shaman put up a thick layer of mist to high-tail it, an’ like a senseless newborn critter, I go the wrong way to try an’ git a fix on their retreat!
I tell you one thing: I ‘aint done with ’em, not by a long shot. Believe you, me, it’s personal! We managed to foil their rustlin’ attempt on that box, so I’d bet my bottom dollar they’re itchin’ fer round 2 also. An’ I aim to be ready fer ‘em. In the mean time, I’ll be nosin’ aroun’ fer the intel I need to get the drop on ‘em. Y’all picked the wrong Texas Ranger to mess with.