"We are a part of it, too," Amanda said, her eyes shining with a sense of wonder. "A hundred years from now, people will be telling this story."
"I'm going to invite him to my eighteenth birthday party," Consuelo announced. "And I am going to thank him properly."
"That's a wonderful idea!" Chris said. "I must thank him as well."
"As will I," Kaylee added with a nod.
"One of my classmates in Toronto is a Bruce," Amanda mused. "I wonder if Henry is from the same family?"
"It's possible," Kaylee speculated. "He certainly doesn't look like an ordinary man."
"Are you saying he's incredibly tall and handsome, Kaylee?" Amanda teased.
"Have you ever seen a gentleman more so?" Chris asked.
"If the god of war, Ares, were to walk the earth," Consuelo said, her voice slow and deliberate, "I believe he would look like Henry."
"I agree," Amanda said. "But who do you think is the better shot? Henry, or Annie?"
"There's no comparison," Kaylee replied. "If Annie had been in that situation today, I fear she would not have survived."
"She's right," Chris said, her expression turning serious. "Did you know, the James and Younger gangs were all former Confederate Partisan Rangers? My father told me they were the South's most elite sharpshooters, the equal of the Union's own marksman corps. The standards to get in were incredibly demanding."
"How demanding?" Amanda asked.
"At 200 yards, you had to hit every shot. At 1,300 feet, two out of three. At 2,600 feet, three out of five," Chris explained. "The James and Younger brothers were the best of the best. Now do you understand how powerful Henry truly is?"
"My God," Amanda whispered, her mind reeling from the implications.
At 6 PM in New York City, newsboys swarmed the streets, their voices crying out the headlines of the Evening Sun.
"YOUNGER GANG ANNIHILATED! JAMES BROTHERS WOUNDED, ON THE RUN!"
"UNPRECEDENTED SUPER-GUNSLINGER SHERIFF HENRY DESTROYS TWO GANGS IN FIVE MINUTES!"
"THE SAYINGS OF SHERIFF HENRY: 'OLD SOLDIERS NEVER DIE, THEY JUST FADE AWAY!'"
"THE SAYINGS OF SHERIFF HENRY: 'LAW AND ORDER WILL COME TO THE WESTERN FRONTIER!'"
"HEIRESSES OF RAILROAD AND REAL ESTATE TYCOONS RESCUED! TWENTY-YEAR-OLD 'GUN GOD' SHERIFF HENRY: UNMATCHED IN BEAUTY AND SKILL!"
"EXCLUSIVE REPORT! A NEW SERIAL ON THE ADVENTURES OF THE SUPERHERO, SHERIFF HENRY!"
The cheap penny press was the public's primary source of information and entertainment. In an instant, the city was whipped into a frenzy of debate. A significant portion of the populace dismissed it as fake news, remembering the Sun's infamous "Great Moon Hoax" from forty-five years earlier. Others believed it completely, hailing Henry as the embodiment of the heroic knights of old. After all, the photographs were real, the bodies were real, and Sheriff Henry himself would be arriving in New York in a matter of days.
Most, however, simply enjoyed it as a thrilling tale. Regardless, that night, Henry was the most talked-about man in all of New York.
In a small three-story building in the Lower East Side, an Irish youth named Mike stared at the paper, his face pale. So that's why Jesse never sent the telegram, he thought. God, I hope Paul was smart enough to get away.
A few hours earlier, the great families, including the Vanderbilts, had received telegrams from their children, but the reports had been brief. Now, reading the full story in the paper, they were stunned into a cold sweat, and a deep, profound interest in the young Sheriff from the West began to take root.
At 6:30 PM, the train stopped at the station in Mendota, Illinois, ninety miles from Chicago. Consuelo sent her maid to invite Henry and his party to her private car for dinner. They gladly accepted.
The Vanderbilt's custom Pullman was even longer and more luxurious than the standard cars. Dinner was a lavish affair.
"Henry," Amanda, who was seated to his left, asked, "my friend Elaine is from the Bruce family of Toronto. Are you from the same line?"
"It's possible," Henry said with a shrug. "My own branch has faded. I am the only one left."
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," he said with a gentle smile.
"I'm curious, Henry," she said, her tone playful. "Why is your skin so perfect?"
"I was born with it, I suppose," he said with a shrug. "A gift."
"It's truly enviable. May I tell Elaine about you?"
"Of course. Why not?"
"Henry," Consuelo asked from his right, her voice soft and direct, "will you be staying in New York?"