Taking the money without hesitation, he nods. "Thanks. I hate to be on the wrong side of a debt."

His smile is as dry as the words.

Well, a favor is a favor, and he'll do what he can in return for the guy -- as long as it isn't money.

There are limits.

The shopkeeper hands over the tickets, waits for them to sign them and then stamps them in red ink before pointing to the western side of the room. "Steamer stop's at the edge of town. I hope you don't mind if I say I won't be sorry to see you go, preacher."

"No offense taken." Turning, Wolfwood lifts a hand in farewell. "May you go with God's protection."

"Yeah," he can hear the man mutter, as they step back outside. "I'm not sure even God can do anything against Vash."

By the Angelina II, Wolfwood inspects the tickets, then hands Michael his. "Here you are. I have to admit, that was easier than usual."