I took stock of the man speaking. Dusty clothes told me he'd just come in off the trail. His gun was slung low on his hip. The bullet loops on his belt were empty. He was unshaven and dirty looking. I slid my drink over to Quint who was on the other side of me. The man slammed his hand down hard on the bar, to get everyone's attention I guess."I said they don't serve his kind in here." And what kind would that be" I asked coldly."He's a breed. He can go down to the Long Branch. They don't care who they serve. Get out, breed"I placed my hand on Quint's shoulder. He had is knife, but you don't bring a knife to a gunfight. He knew it and I knew it. I looked at him and nodded. I slowly turned to face the man. My hands were still up near my chest. I slowly lowered them to just beside my 45's."Now then, mister. I don't like your tone, I don't like your opinion and I don't like you. I'm giving you two choices. You can shut up and leave. You do that and you'll live. Or, you can try your luck. Do you understand?" said the man.I nodded that I understood it was plain to see that he had no reservations about hitting a woman."Get up," he demanded, "and go into the living room, I'll be right behind you so just remember that."Shakily I walked into the living room; two other men and two dogs were already there guarding Sandy and Jo."Guys, okay you've made your point, just give us thirty minutes and we'll be out of here," I pleaded."No, sorry. I warned you, and now you have to pay the penalty. So would you all please remove your clothes," said Harry."No way," started Sandy, but she never finished her sentence as the one called George jabbed her hard with a baseball bat in her midriff that sent her sprawling to her knees, gasping for breath.In Stephens's hand he had a whip, which he kept slapping across his other hand, purely to show us that they meant business."I suggest you do exactly as we ask unless you want some more pain," said Harry who was holding the dogs back as they.
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