Irene, closest to the door, watched the Marshal as he seemed to get struck dumb.  She looked out the window and saw a flash of hat, blonde hair, a colorful native poncho and then nothing.  Was that what he'd looked at?  She turned back and almost bumped into the Marshal as he headed out to check the walkway.<br/><br/>Irene's eyebrows lifted as she glanced at Sam.  "What on earth...?" she started when the Marshal came back to finish his warning to Sam and then took a swig from a bottle.<br/><br/>Her mouth closed as she looked at the man.<br/><br/>"It seems to me that Mercer would be exactly the place to go...with a decent posse or maybe just a few who could move quiet-like," she said.  She blinked at the sound of her voice.  "I mean, if you have a death wish."  She hadn't meant to say the words out loud.<br/><br/>After their dismissal, Irene smirked and went outside.  She looked up at Sam as he joined her.  "I can describe things to the clerk.  But, that's not going to do any damned good.  What good do all those posters do when he won't even go someplace that sounds like a haven for outlaws?" she asked, hissing her words as she took Sam's arm, steering him along to the clerk's office.  She sighed.  "I'm just frustrated, Sam.  Ignore me."