As he played, Ethan felt baleful stares burn into his back and tried to ignore them. The cowboys sat behind him, watching, silent and sulking, not so much listening to his songs as waiting for him to stop. Their evening fun had been ruined by the man in black with the quick draw and the loud pistol, who sat at the poker table with his friends and watched Ethan over the cards in his hand. Each song Ethan sang went out to that dark stranger with the icy eyes, and as the last few notes died away into the quiet saloon, he passed his derby around and wondered how he could ever thank the man. Offer to buy him a drink, perhaps, but there was something sinister about his friends that kept Ethan at bay.
Ethan didn’t expect much money from this crowd. But when his hat came back, he found it filled
