A man stood over her then, wearing a duster, a wide grin on his rough face. A good shirt beard framed a strong jaw, blue eyes and prominent cheek bones. The man was a looker, she had to admit. White teeth flashed at her, as he stuck a gloved hand out to her. "Well, I've seen people blow things up, but a bar? All that wasted whiskey, its almost a crime." He chuckled then.