"Nasty red-skinned devils," Charles Jr. snorts, turning over his shoulder to spit. "Wouldn't mind takin' a scalp or two m'self, teach 'em a thing or two."

Behind him, folk are starting to clear the square, so the dancing can begin. If Doc has been watching the Barlows, he'll notice them among those moving towards the "dance floor."

Doc Hawthorn, however, is not with them.