Samuel strode out of a saloon, and joined the gathering crowd. He pushed past people, struggling to get to the front. The strange cloak and rifle helped. Some people stared, but most ignored him. "One hundred thirty dollars? Seems worth it." Samuel of course, was in a bit of a predicament. He needed the money, but he didn't know how to bring people living. He was mostly a killer, but he could accustom to the idea. He could use his usual tracking skills, work his way among the crime land to find rumors, see if it was coincidence or if some bandits had taken them away. Of course, they would most likely be dead if bandits took them, but surely Samuel would get the money. He shrugged and walked back to his horse, his grey cloak covering the top half of his face, keeping his red hair hidden.