In the tavern he found Stud Farrell stacking up dirty dishes for the slave woman in the kitchen. "Got another one, sheriff. Stage driver brung it in yesterday on his way north." From under a bottle Stud produced a folded piece of brown paper with "C. Bell" scribbled on the outside.The message inside was just two crudely printed words: GIL DED."Damn," said Alexander Beall loudly, crumpling the paper. He stalked out of tavern, pushed open Annie's door and said, "See you soon," untied his horse and galloped off toward home with the taste of bile in his mouth.An hour and a half later he was in Georgetown and saddle sore. He looked for Nolan at the Anchor and the Sailors' Tavern and found him at his small home."What happened?" Beall asked."Somebody kilt ole Gil." said Nolan, looking sad."When?" Night after we saw him I guess. I didn't run into him the next day, and the day after I went up there and he was kilt. That constable come and looked and poked around, but he didn't say nothing to. Gripping the abaya with both hands he pulled it over her head and there she was naked, in a cell, chained to the floor and visible to dozens of pairs of prying eyes.Evidently the privilege of trying the merchandise was one he arrogated to himself also, for he patted the couch to indicate that she should lie down on it. Turning her on her belly, he raised her until she was on all fours with her back to him, hair and breasts hanging below her torso, knees apart, arse and cunt open and available to him. In this position he thrust his not inconsiderable mutton dagger deep into her cunt and pumped away for a few moments.Looking up, Amelia could see dozens of pairs of eyes watching this edifying spectacle which provided a respite from the unutterable boredom of sitting doing nothing all day. The idea that she was providing a spectacle for them made her very excited and she started to moan and to thrust back onto his prick. Immediately, he withdrew from her cunt and repositioned himself to.
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