"It all came to a head when Deputy Teller had his way with one of the saloon girls—Molly, was her name—after which there was a full-blown shootout between the Marshal and his deputies—not Decker, he tried to maintain the peace—and the rest of the town." She unscrewed the cap from a bottle of beer and took a swig, then concealed it behind the bar. "You didn't see that. Anyway, the town didn't fair so well, and now there's a row of graves out by Serpent's Butte." She paused, locking her beautiful brown eyes up in his own. "They were good men, Williams. The best I've ever known. And now they're just as dead as that raptor." She snapped the bar towel in her hands and then wiped the counter. "And that's why we all talk and dress this way." She indicated his empty glass. "You want another?"

"Sure," he said.

She pulled one from the wall and unscrewed its cap, sat it down in front of him.

At last she said, "So what about you? What's your story? And how did you come to be travelling with an armored dinosaur?"