Black Bart had said they should meet at high noon, in the street.

Phil wasn't sure why the man had said that. Did Black Bart have something he wanted to discuss? If so, why couldn't they have met in the saloon, where it would be a lot cooler. Even though Phil didn't drink alcohol, there surely must be tables and chairs there where they could sit down and talk.

But then, maybe Black Bart didn't drink either and therefore may not want to meet in such a place.

Be that as it may, Phil was here, in the middle of the street, waiting, and it was almost noon.

But where was Black Bart? Phil's watch said three minutes until noon. Maybe Black Bart had gotten the time wrong. He couldn't have gotten the place wrong because there was only one main street in this dusty little town, and Phil was here, waiting, in the middle of it.

In their one prior discussion, when Black Bart had suggested they should "play it out," Phil had said, "Oh good. How about if I play the protagonist, and you can be the antagonist."

Black Bart had said he didn't know what that meant, but he would meet Phil in the middle of main street at high noon.

Well, now it was only two minutes until noon, and Black Bart was not there. Where was he? Had the man gotten the time wrong? Maybe Phil should leave.

No, in fairness to Black Bart, he should wait a little longer.

Finally, when Phil's watch indicated one minute until noon, Black Bart appeared. He was at the far end of the street, striding briskly toward Phil.

Phil smiled and waved, but for some reason, that stopped Back Bart. His hand went down to his side where he was wearing, of all things, a large black sidearm.

Black Bart yelled, "Why ain't you packin'?"

Phil was confused by that. Maybe Black Bart war referring to his briefcase. It was a slim briefcase, made of the finest leather. It certainly wouldnVt be appropriate for packing, at least not for a trip of any length. Phil held the briefcase up to show Black Bart how small it was.

Black Bart yelled, "So you are packin' after all. Well, make your move."

Obviously, Black Bart didn't understand. Phil was not moving anywhere, and if he was, the slim briefcase made of fine leather wouldn't hold hardly any traveling clothes at all. To show Black Bart how little the inside of the briefcase was, Phil undid the two latches and started to open it.

Black Bart reacted by taking out his large sidearm and pointing it, so Phil had no choice but to remove his own pistol from the briefcase and shoot Black Bart in the heart.

Up to that moment, Phil hardly paid any attention to the group of onlookers that were standing on the board sidewalk right outside the saloon until one of them said, "Well, Black Bart drew first, so I guess the stranger was within his rights to shoot him."

Phil assumed that it meant the incident was over, so it was time to mosey on.