Katie Garza fell in with us as we were strolling along the riverbank. She seemed a little grumpy, but, though her skin was a bit roughened by the wind and the sun, she still had a glow. She carried a pistol and had a cartridge belt thrown over her shoulder.

“They better let me shoot,” she said, in something of the tone of a little girl, not sure the boys were going to let her join their play.

Pleasant Burnell and Happy Jack were shooting when we arrived. Wild Horse Jerry, a mean little ferret, was taunting them, and indeed they were missing more bottles than they cracked. Occasionally a bullet would clip the wall and sing as it sliced on across the grass.

“If this was a battle you’d both be in hell by now,” Jerry pointed out.

Pleasant Burnell, who was rarely pleasant—at least in my company—spat a wad of tobacco juice at his critic.

“I’ll be glad when the tall nigger comes and cuts your head off,” he said—a reference to Mesty-Woolah’s favored method of execution.

“That tall nigger’s gonna eat a lead breakfast if he comes near me,” Jerry replied.

They finished their turn and Hill Coe walked over to the wall and carefully lined up some thirty bottles along the top.

No one so far had said a word to Katie Garza—they just quietly ignored the fact that they had a woman at their practice session.

Katie was not one to curb her impatience long. Hill Coe came walking back to the firing line, carefully pulling on his shooting glove. The gunfighters, most of whom had been spitting and hawking, tried to compose themselves a little more respectfully.

Billy Bone looked amused—he had no very high regard for any of them.

As Hill Coe got ready to shoot, Katie Garza spoke. “Mr. Coe, you’re a gambler,” she said. “I’ll gamble you.”

Hill Coe seemed startled. Few women spoke to him so boldly.

“What would be the gamble?” he asked in surprise.

“I think I can outshoot you,” Katie said. “I’ve got a hundred dollars that thinks so, too.”

The gunfighters mainly looked embarrassed, though Wild Horse Jerry favored us with an evil smirk. Katie’s challenge was taken as an affront—a young bandit girl, with only a local reputation, had challenged the great marshal of Abilene and Dodge.

But Billy Bone looked at her with new eyes. It was just the kind of thing he would have done himself, whether he had any chance of winning or not, just to show his spunk.

“Why, Miss, it would hardly do to take your money this early in the day,” Hill Coe said rather formally.

“I don’t think you can beat her, Hill,” Billy said loudly.