Proprietor
Deacon Wick
Sells rope. Has sold rope a long time. Has never once looked surprised about it. Reads out who bought, who held and who got wrecked like the morning prices, in the same voice.
General goods for the recently wrecked
Rope Store
$ROPE
Buy the rope. Hope it snaps.
Established after a bad week
Get the rope.
Every trader has typed it. A red candle, a blown stop, a top bought with both hands, and somebody in the chat says it: get the rope.
Deacon Wick heard it enough times that he stopped laughing and started stocking. Most folks say it as a joke. Here it is inventory.
The store sells one thing. Rope. Coiled in barrels, stacked on the counter, hung by the door. It does not come in colors. It does not go on sale. It is priced in $ROPE, because what else would it be priced in.
Around the store
The regulars
Customer
Bagholder Ezra
First in line every morning. Poncho, cracked boots, wallet on a tether and the tether on a hitching post, all three of them shaking. Buys a rope. Says it is the last one.
Out back
The Ol' Hangin' Tree
Four branches, one opinion. Groans when a rope holds. Cheers when one snaps. The only thing in town that gets excited, and it is a tree.
Pinned by the door
The wanted wall
Deacon keeps a board of the store's best customers. Nobody is getting a reward. They already paid.
Wanted
Wrecked
The Top Buyer
Bought the exact top. With both hands. Then bought more to lower his average.
Wanted
Wrecked
The Leverage Kid
Rode a hundred times his stack into a two-cent wick. Horse came back. He did not.
Wanted
Wrecked
The Iron Grip
Held all the way down. Still holding. Nobody at the store has the heart to ask him why.
Wanted
Wrecked
The Blind Aper
Bought the contract before reading it. Reads them now. Mostly the ones at the store.