The shadows were long as Roose came into town, walking his horse slowly down the middle of the main street. Shops and stores on either side were now closed for business, the last few owners sweeping away the dust from their porch entrances. One or two looked up as he passed by, their faces framed by the flickering lights from the interior of their businesses. Roose, eyes straight ahead, made for the only building which appeared open. The saloon. A chipped and faded sign across the front bore the name ‘Lucky Nights’ which he thought somewhat amusing, given the virtual absence of customers.
A solitary man sat on a rocking chair adjacent to the batwing doors. He busily filled a bone pipe as Roose dismounted, tied up his horse, dusted off his jacket and took the steps to the boardwalk. The ma
