"All right, all right, all right!" Rango shouted over the crashing of bar stools and drew his gun. "Enough of that!" He ordered.
Buford sighed. Not again... maybe he should start making the customers pay for shattered bar stools...
Melander grinned, and calmed the sheriff. "Now don't you worry, sheriff. See how nice these two are? Willing to kill each other in order to help me! All you gotta do is mention a little treasure... which yes... I believe I was going to relate... well, my story begins last year, when I heard about the lost treasure of the Sierra Negra. This treasure is said to be greater than any in the Mojave... it was some Spanish gold or some such thing, the story differs a bit each time, but the details of immeasurable wealth are always the same. Anyway, the story goes that there was a city in this mountain range which was destroyed through a natural calamity, and was soon lost to all but memory. WELL... legend goes, that only the truly worthy can locate this lost city and its trove, but that's only part of the tale." Melander said, looking around at the enraptured host.
"The treasure is unfortunately guarded by a very dangerous individual named... Malachus. He's a rather fearsome sort you see, even worse than your Rattlesnake Jake. My run-in with him was... well let's face it, I can't remember all the details. In fact... I'm not even sure if it was him I encountered, as he has his minions as well. Now I'm no slouch..." he patted the guns at his side. "Bounty hunting is my usual profession, you see, but in this instance... the stories of Malachus are justified. I was thinking... with a large group... him and his retinue could perhaps be overcome... and..." He took another drink of water here. "We make off several thousand times richer than we currently are, gentlemen?" he asked, looking around here to the gathered assemblage.
Rango's eyes and mouth twitched a little at the mention of immeasurable wealth. Buford definitely seemed interested as well, having forgotten all about the bar fight.