Irene looked up from her perusal of the toes of her boots to meet the Marshal's look.  His blank face didn't give much away, but it seemed almost like he was considering her feelings...  Irene listened, but didn't correct the marshal's description of the knife Tim carried.  She followed his hand to the boards hanging on the wall with the dark images of men, and women, wanted for one thing or another.<br/><br/>"There were two men in the bar the other evening," Irene said, speaking into the silence.  "You may have noticed as they gave me a bit of trouble until others stepped in."  The marshal had been one of the ones, so she was pretty sure he'd remember.  "One of them, the one who grabbed me, had a knife -- Tim's knife.  I followed them, but they ran like the cockroaches they are.  Have you any information on them?"