With a sidelong glance at the stranger at the bar, Katie stands slowly, fishing a couple more silver dollars from her pocket.  Aside from a few nickels, that's all she's got left.  "Sir, I know this may seem a bit out of sorts to you," she puts the silver dollars on the bar.  "But we're going to need more'n one of your rooms.  Here's my share."<br/><br/>At the bar, there's a scratchpad of brownish papers... a tablet for accounts and orders.  She lifts the pad from its nail, noting the pencil on a scrap of twine attached.  "I don't know if you're of the law or just passing through, mister," she says to the man at the bar without making eye contact.  "I'll tell you straight: we ain't the law."<br/><br/>She tears off one of the squares of paper and lays it blank-side up on the bartop, and sets to sketching shares, rectangles, triangles... a rough map of the town.  Although they saw it once, she manages to sketch a reasonable approximation of the town.  "I won't get in your way if you stay out of ours."<br/><br/>Her pencil stops scratching and she pushes it towards the saloon man.  "While we're bringin' in the horses and all, please indicate on here where them folks lived.  And please mark the tree with an X."<br/><br/>Sensing some hesitation, she dips her face and make eye contact with where he stands, his shoulders and head down in consideration... maybe fear.  "We'd all be much obliged... isn't that right, Ms. Alex?"  Tipping her head in hello, she picks up her saddlebags and ducks her way out the door to saddle the horses.  She knows Alex has a way of smoothing people over.