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speaking pointedly to Tomlain.
    â€œI’m about to get tired of all this bullshit. I don’t know what’s going on around here and I don’t care. But I’m staying a few days and it’s going to get goddam dangerous for the next man that saddles my horse for me.”
    They sat there staring at him for a long second after he’d said that. Then a smile began to spread over Tomlain’s face. “Well, well, well,” he said softly. Then he got up, moving like a cat after prey he’s very sure about. “It’s gonna get dangerous all right, snake shooter. But you’re the one in the barrel.”
    He started around the table. Saulter straightened, his hand going to the butt of the gun at his waist. In his mind he was calculating the play. Shoot Tomlain first, of course, but get him with one bullet. Square in the chest. Then there were the two men on Tomlain’s left. They might get in each other’s way so it would be best to take the one man on the right. But then he didn’t know about Billy. He could be at the back door or anywhere. He wasn’t worried about Schmidt. He didn’t look like the type that was going to involve himself where there was a good chance of getting hurt. Probably he’d go down behind the bar as soon as the guns came out.
    Tomlain was still advancing. Saulter watched him with a careful eye. It was dangerous to let him get too close, but there was a point at which he’d be in the line of fire of those behind him and that would give Saulter the extra second he was going to need after he dropped Tomlain. He closed his hand around the butt of his pistol and slid his finger inside the trigger guard. Tomlain had his hand on his own gun and Saulter watched his hand intently, watching for a little tightening that would tell him Tomlain was about to draw.
    He calculated one more step and then he was going to kill Tomlain. At that instant the front door opened with a bang. They were all startled. Tomlain stopped and turned; Saulter cautiously turned his head to look. It was the woman, the woman from the house across the street. She stood there in the door, suddenly conscious of the tension in the air, uncertain whether to go or come in.
    Saulter broke the strain. Touching his hat brim he said politely, “Miss, I wonder if you’d be good enough to wait outside for just a minute?”
    She stared at him searchingly. “What are you talking about?”
    â€œPlease, miss,” he said. “Just wait outside a moment. Or come back later.”
    â€œI will not,” she said promptly.
    Saulter gestured. “I think it’d be best. Me and these men are about to have some business. I wouldn’t want you in the way.”
    â€œI’ve got business here myself,” she said, but a look of understanding was coming over her face. She was in her mid-twenties, but there was a hardness about her that made her appear older. She was pretty enough, but in a jaded, determined way. Her face was that of a woman who’s seen a lot of the world and who knows there’s not much left in it that will either surprise or disappoint her. Or hearten her, for that matter. Seeing the table and understanding what was about to happen, she felt a fleeting bit of sympathy for the tall stranger. Heretofore she’d thought him just to be another gunman that McGraw was importing, but now she could see he was different from the others.
    â€œPlease, miss,” Saulter said again. There was an appeal in his voice, that of a man who had to get something accomplished while he still had the strength. He touched his hat brim again.
    â€œAll right,” she said. She gave Saulter a quick look, and then backed out the door. But before she closed it, she called to Schmidt. “Schmidt, we need some more flour. And sugar. And some of those goddam dried apricots. And send us some decent beef.”
    Schmidt answered, “I’ll send Chiffo