Carson stared at the woman, like everyone else.  He had never seen such an outlandish woman in his life.  She was trouble with a capital T.  Still, she was quite a beauty and had money to boot.<br/><br/>"For that much, you could stay a month.  As for storytelling and nice talking, how about I buy you a drink myself.  The names Keillor.  Carson Keillor and this here's my saloon.  And you do I have the pleasure of meeting?"  He decided to be as polite a possible, despite her completely cowboyish manners.  Even out on in the West, being polite was important.<br/><br/>His bartender poured a couple of shots of whiskey and pushed them towards Carson and the woman.  He was staring at her like she was a banshee or a wild woman, as were half the saloon.  Slowly the piano player started to play again and people muttered and returned to their cards.<br/><br/>In the corner of the saloon, at a craps table, Jeanette leaned over Roy's shoulder, pushing her cleavage against him.  "Come on Roy.  Just place one little bet for little old me."  She knew that the working girls were not suppose to bet against the house, but there were ways around the rules.