Post by account_disabled on Dec 14, 2023 6:09:03 GMT
At dawn the next day Barbara Stone took over the sheriff's office. The echo of what happened the night before had gone around the entire state and with the 6 o'clock stagecoach some newspapers from nearby cities also arrived, reporting what had happened. Bill and Jack had managed to put Isaiah Wilson back together and around midnight the undertaker had put a nice wooden coat over Norton McAllister's body. The funeral would take place in a couple of days. At the name of Dynamite Bra inside the saloon a forty-eight was furious, but nothing had been broken, shattered, uprooted, smashed, split. In fact, the exact opposite had happened.
Everyone, including the whores, had started working hard to tidy up the place, fix tables and chairs, sweep and wash off the blood, take measures to redo the shutters, collect shards and pieces of glass. Within two Phone Number Data hours Tom's saloon was as good as new. Barbara had dined, served as if she were a queen. She then went to sleep in a room in the club, kindly offered by Tom who, at least for that night, had left her whores free. No customer had had the courage to have fun with the new sheriff just a stone's throw away. After having cleaned the office, whose floor had not been swept since the foundation of the city, oiled the weapons of the small arsenal and found a stable for her Willy, Barbara Stone stopped by the carpenter, the already known Isaiah.
She ordered him to hang a sign outside her office door. Isaiah carefully read the piece of paper the woman handed him, scratched his head, looked at Stone, nodded and told her he would be ready by noon. At that time all of Bang City, which wasn't that big, was called to mind by a loud pounding coming from the sheriff's office. Some didn't notice, but someone else, more cunning and reckless, went to look around. Among the bystanders there were also the two cowboys Bill and Jack, always in the middle like parsley, do-nothing pensioners who loved wandering around the streets picking the pockets of anyone who came within range. When Barbara finished putting up the sign, she turned to the small crowd gathered in front of the building, nodded goodbye, and went back inside. Bill shook his head. "You certainly don't lack imagination," he said. “You can bet your head on it, brother,” said the other. The sign spoke clearly and immediately made everyone understand what the mood was like in the city now.
Everyone, including the whores, had started working hard to tidy up the place, fix tables and chairs, sweep and wash off the blood, take measures to redo the shutters, collect shards and pieces of glass. Within two Phone Number Data hours Tom's saloon was as good as new. Barbara had dined, served as if she were a queen. She then went to sleep in a room in the club, kindly offered by Tom who, at least for that night, had left her whores free. No customer had had the courage to have fun with the new sheriff just a stone's throw away. After having cleaned the office, whose floor had not been swept since the foundation of the city, oiled the weapons of the small arsenal and found a stable for her Willy, Barbara Stone stopped by the carpenter, the already known Isaiah.
She ordered him to hang a sign outside her office door. Isaiah carefully read the piece of paper the woman handed him, scratched his head, looked at Stone, nodded and told her he would be ready by noon. At that time all of Bang City, which wasn't that big, was called to mind by a loud pounding coming from the sheriff's office. Some didn't notice, but someone else, more cunning and reckless, went to look around. Among the bystanders there were also the two cowboys Bill and Jack, always in the middle like parsley, do-nothing pensioners who loved wandering around the streets picking the pockets of anyone who came within range. When Barbara finished putting up the sign, she turned to the small crowd gathered in front of the building, nodded goodbye, and went back inside. Bill shook his head. "You certainly don't lack imagination," he said. “You can bet your head on it, brother,” said the other. The sign spoke clearly and immediately made everyone understand what the mood was like in the city now.