The tall man was massive, with a huge chest, waist, and hips of the same circumference. He walked with a bully's strut, well-aware of his imposing size.
Pushing the double swinging doors of the Long Branch so hard that they smacked against the walls, he stomped inside and over to the bar.
"Gimme a bottle of whiskey, barkeep!" he demanded, banging a massive fist on the bar top.
It was an exceptionally busy night, and Red, the bartender, barely glanced at the big, loud man as he smacked down a bottle and glass and scraped up the coins. He did notice the healed but discolored burn scar on the left side of the man's face.
Picking up his bottle and glass, Stobo walked to a table at the back of the room to keep an eye out for the big Marshal who had scarred his face and then badly beaten him a year ago. He told himself he wasn't afraid of the man, but would rather ambush him for the pleasure of it.
The massive cowboy was eyeing the saloon girls, deciding which one to pick, when another one came down the stairs to his right.
"THAT'S the one!" he decided, as he lustfully eyed her perfect figure and face topped off by a glorious head of glossy red hair. He had a fuzzy memory of seeing her last year but he and his buddy Treavitt had been on a drunken prowl, and the Long Branch had been the fifth saloon that day.
He grabbed the arm of a small, middle-aged man walking by holding a mug of beer.
"Hey! Who's that?!" he demanded of the wide-eyed man who was spilling his beer on his shabby suit as he stared at the huge cowboy.
'Miss…Miss Kitty. She's part owner here…" As he saw the look in Stobo's eyes that any man recognized, he quickly added, …"and she's the Marshal's girl!" Pulling his arm free, the small man hurried over to the bar where he felt safer.
"Well! Even better!" He rubbed the scar tissue on his face as his eyes followed the lovely young woman's movements across the room.
It was around 3:45AM when Stobo returned to the Long Branch, but this time through the back alley, dragging a small, scruffy skinner with him. Forcing open the small window to the basement, he shoved the man forward.
"Get in there and unlock this delivery door for me, and do it quietly or you'll be sorry for the day you was born!" he hissed.
The small disheveled man nodded and carefully put one leg inside, foot atop a barrel, then the other, and jumped to the floor. Stumbling a little, he managed to make it through the darkness to the outside door and fumbled with the lock until it opened.
"Here ya go, Mr. Stobo," he whispered and held out his hand.
Picking up the small man by the collar with one huge hand, Stobo held him up face to face, and stuffed five dollars into the skinner's shirt pocket.
"Now you're gonna forget all about this and all about me, ain't ya? Otherwise I'll snap ya like a dry twig!" He flung the man aside onto the dirt street.
Nodding his head vigorously, the frightened skinner got up and ran off down the alley, eager to leave town.
With a vicious grin on his scarred face, and wiping his hands on his pants, he crept through the saloon and up the stairs surprisingly quietly for such a heavy man.
Unsure of which room was his prey's, Stobo arbitrarily picked one, silently jimmied the simple lock, and eased inside. He stood still, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, only relieved by the faint light of a crescent moon. Then he slowly walked towards the bed where a small form was peacefully sleeping.
"Matt?" A light sleeper, Kitty sensed a large presence approaching, and was hopeful that Matt had gotten back earlier than expected from Wichita. But some inner sense was sending alarms through her system, telling her this was NOT her man in her room.
The slender woman sat up suddenly, grabbing the loaded pistol she kept under her pillow when alone, and pointed it at the large belly of the massive man looming over her. The moonlight highlighted his scarred face now twisted in an angry leer.
"GET OUT OF HERE!" She pulled back the hammer with a click that filled the silent room.
"I must have the wrong room, Missy. Ain't ya Doris? She told me to just come on in when I got back to town." The frightening man tried to change his face into a non-threatening, confused smile.
Kitty's gun hand wavered one unfortunate moment as she detected liquor and wanted to believe the man.
"My door was locked and there is no Doris!" were her last thoughts before the huge man darted forward and hit her right hand upward, causing her to fire a shot into the ceiling.
Then he was on her.