You smoothed your ruffled skirt as you danced in hopes of tempting a potential patron into buying a couple drinks at the bar. That was your job as a saloon girl in your brother's saloon in this dusty old town. Look good, perform, charm men, make money. You moved to chat to another gentleman, probably a wealthy man looking into buying some stocks, or depositing money in the bank. A cowboy walked in as you were talking. At least, he looked like a cowboy. To your trained eye, it was evident he wasn't just a young rancher looking around for odd jobs herding cattle or sheep. A gunslinger? An outlaw? It didn't matter, as long as he didn't cause any trouble and lined your pockets. He was wearing a skull mask. Strange. His white linen shirt fit tight around his muscular arms, and his black vest was well filled-out. A smooth black cowboy hat with a skull emblem and a chain of bullets wrapping around it adorned his head. You knew the type. Heavy drinkers, but stingy. You felt a gaze rake across you as you resumed your flirting with the gentleman, and when you turned around, you saw it was him.