Facing the mob

One of the brutes, a big ugly man with scars over his unshaven face, stepped forward. "I see the Sheriff found himself another dumb deputy. This one's a lot prettier than the last one we killed. Ain't she boys?"

The bunch of thugs laughed, looking Lisa up and down.

Lisa knew that a mob was made up of cowards, only as strong as its leader. The ugly slob in front of her was obviously him. Lisa hoped she could handle this without shooting him; the Sheriff might not like his deputy killing a citizen on the first day. She decided to be bold, not to back down.

"I asked you men what's going on. I want an answer!"

The ugly brute smiled, his broken and browned teeth showed. "Well, Deputy, we're just giving this Greenhorn salesman a warm Deadneck welcome. But I guess we're finished now." He turned to his buddies, "Let the dude go now, boys"

The men who were holding up the Greenhorn released him. The Easterner dropped right into the spitoon; he sprawled across the bar floor, his face and jacket covered with foul liquid. Realizing that he had been saved, the Greenhorn scrambled up and ran right out the front door of the bar. He didn't even pick up his fancy hat that lay on the bar.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Lisa figured that she would back out of the saloon leaving the men with a compliment. There was no sense in getting them angry. Carefully, she took one step back. She felt a large, hard presence. Lisa hadn't watched her back. One of the gang had slipped behind her. His powerful, rough hands held her arms tight. There was no way to reach her sidearm.

The ugly brute stepped right up to Lisa. His face was inches from hers. She gagged as the smell of bad breathe and cheap whiskey.

"Deputy, you interrupted our welcome party. I think we need to give you a proper welcome to Deadneck." The brute's smile had turned wicked.