Yes, this morning.Mortimer: That’s strange. I sat on this sofa this morning, too, but I don’t recall seeing you.Myrtle: I don’t recall seeing yo... either. There was no one here when I sat on this sofa.Mortimer: (Rubbing his chin, thinking)I am trying to remember where I’ve seen you before. Now it will be bothering me. I can’t stand it when I’ve seen a familiar face and can’t recall where we’ve met.Myrtle: I’m the same way. When I see a familiar face I want to know where we might have. “Whisky.” Dusty nodded and motioned to his barmaid Patty to get John a whisky. He held up his forefinger to indicate that she should pour the good whisky, the Canadian Rye whisky and not the New Orleans rotgut that most patrons got. A man about to die deserved a decent last drink. Patty returned and her eyes flitting nervously from Dusty to John. She slid the amber drink in front of the handsome cowboy. John removed his cowboy hat, brushed it casually to remove the street’s dust and set it down. More

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