High Noon at Dolnoon’s Saloon

The tumbleweed was the only thing moving along the dusty high street, baked by the blazing hot sun hovering directly overhead. The townsfolk were either in their homes barricading their windows, or in the saloon. Most, though, were in the saloon.

Herbert Hatherthwaite sat on his usual stool at the corner of the bar, looking at his tankard of water.

Maverick Mannering sat at the piano, watching the double swinging doors intently.

Cesspit Jones, Albert the Apothecary, and Sid Sundown sat at the round poker table motionless… quite the feat for Sid.

It was noon. The church bell tolled outside.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this, Herb?” Nutmeg Dolnoon asked in a whisper from behind the bar.

Herb nodded. “There comes a time in a man’s life when he has to stand strong and be a force for good”, he said without looking away from his reflection in the tankard.

The swish of the swinging doors caused everyone to take in a sharp breath.

Violet Dolnoon walked into the bar and over to the piano, where Maverick (and the rest) breathed out a sigh of relief.

The doors swung open again, and the large, bulky, shadowed silhouette of the Outlaw Angus Blade stood against the brightness outside.

Maverick brought the cover down over the piano keys.

Herb closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. The heavy footsteps from the outlaw echoed around the silent saloon as he stomped over to where Herbert sat.

“Now, Angus,” Nutmeg said, “play fair.”

“I’m always fair, my dear.” Angus smirked as he placed a black cloth pouch on the bar. Herbert placed a folded white silk hanky on the bar, and began to slowly open it up as Nutmeg placed a round wooden bowl between the two.

“Let’s see if you can act as tough as your words, Hatherthwaite.” Angus hissed in a mocking voice.

“There’s no need for that, Angus.” Nutmeg said sternly. “You’re both here for the tiddlywinks championship final – let the better man win.”

She looked at Herb as he tiddled his first wink.