"Fargo" Fargo here. No, Fargo isn't my given name. That is another story that I ain't goin' into here. My bringin' up was in Missouri where my folks was sodbusters. I always liked horses so after goin' to school long enough to read & cipher my Pa hired me out at the age of 9 to a horse rancher. I liked it although we worked hard every day from before sunup to sundown or past. Lemme tell ya Missouri gets gol-danged cold in the winter. So after a few years of that and learnin' how to break, ride and take care of horses, I decided it was time to find a warmer place. Oklahoma weren't real far away so I figured give it a try. Even after my Pa had taken most of my money I'd saved enuf to buy a horse and gear. The rancher gave me an old double barreled shotgun that only one side worked that I used on copperhead snakes & varmints while workin' fur him. I tried Oklahoma fur a while but it was cold and wasn't much there. Lotsa sodbusters. Ran into some fellers that said if ya weren't scared ya could make a bunch o' money by borrowing horses from time to time. We sorta' forgot to give 'em back sometimes.....well, seldom......well, sorta' never. This did aggrevate some folks fiercely. Heard there was a lot of goins on in Texas down in San Anton so headed there. Got there 2 days after the battle at the Alamo, heck of a battle between the Mexicans and Texans. Didn't seem like much of a place to make a livin'. Headed West. Got to Fort Stockton, been travelin' a couple weeks, time for sumpin other than beans, jerky and rabbit - went to a boardin' house, got a bath, went to a saloon for a whiskey. Feller in thar at a table with a star was recruitin' for the Texas Rangers; some sort o' deputy that went all over the state. They paid for ridin' round the state chasin' outlaws. Since I'd been on the other side of the law I figured I could do that and be respectable, mebbe even settle down with a good-lookin' floosie. After a year of livin' in the saddle and eatin' beans, jerky and rabbit agin, gettin' shot at (did I tell ya Rangers work by themselves?) and haulin' dead outlaws in with no reward figured why not just go after the rewards and make a lot more money. Bounty huntin' was a good trade specially where it paid dead or alive. There was plenty of bank robbers and I got paid the most for them, scepting fellas that had killed lawmen. Seemed like there was always one more ta' go after in the West. Worked my way thru New Mexico and into Arizona. Lots of outlaws thought if they dropped down inta Mexico, they were safe. I didn't care where they went as long as the reward was enuf. During the winter I'd head down below Nogales as there were small towns down there where if you had enuf gold you could hole up real well. It was hotter 'n Hades in the summer so I'd head up to Chloride and Cyanide Springs to drink, gamble and socialize with the gals in the bar. If'n I'd see a feller with a good price on his head I might go after 'em. There's this gal that works in the saloon by the name of Dusty Rose that I got a hankerin' fur. Ya got a good price on yur head, come to Cyanide Springs. I could stand makin' a few dollars more.