Marshal Wrynn had stood still, the patrons that got chased out of the saloon where new in town. They did not know the ladies ran the saloon however they saw fit and that had brought a smirk to his serious countenance. If the men would have been foolish to draw a gun they would have found themselves six feet deep and he was not sure who would draw first, Guinevera or himself. The man finally began to remove his coat and the bandolier across his chest. His long range rifle was propped next to him and soon enough one of the ladies came to take it away for safe keeping. Wrynn still had his revolvers on him, not like he would dare walk anywhere without a weapon.