Billy continued downing some more drinks, four empty glasses lying on the bar table. As he ordered for a fifth, he felt a strong shove on his left shoulder. Glancing over, he saw a hefty man sitting there, eyeing him. "Hey, I recognize you!" The man said aloud, his deep voice booming over the clanking of glasses and chatter. Billy shifted uncomfortably, but remained silent. "You're that feller I been seein' on them wanted signs, ain't ya!" This time Billy glanced at him again, clenching his teeth and cursing in his mind. "Er, no. I think you've got the wrong guy." He muttered as a response, trying to change his pitch to disguise his voice. "Oh, no I ain't. Boy, there's a big award for turnin' your hide in to the sheriff!" The man boomed, turning to face him more. Now there were a few more men crowding around at the mention of an award. Billy lowered a brow, contemplating a verbal or physical escape, but his thoughts were interrupted when a man grabbed hold of his arm. "I say we get us our money, boys!" The lead man shouted with a hearty laugh. Clenching his teeth, Billy balled his fist up. Suddenly he jerked his arm out of the other man's hold and brought his elbow back hard on his face with a sickening crack. The men flinched at the sudden move and began to close in, always happy for a good bar fight. Billy quickly drew both of his side pistols and pulled back the hammers with a click, giving one advancing man a strong kick in the stomach with his boot to clear the way. His back safe against the wall, he turned to the five men in front of him, holding out his pistols. "Alright. You've got me. And you'll all just go back to doin' what you were, 'fore anyone gets hurt." He spoke loud, aiming the pistols at them. There was no way he was about to go down and to jail without a struggle.
