It's a lazy Sunday afternoon in Crooked Creek, and on the charming main drag of this dusty frontier village a brood of mustachioed men preen like peacocks outside Melita's Cantina. Dressed in their finest silk handkerchiefs, wide-brimmed hats and flamboyant leather vests, they greet... More >>>
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By Jennifer Silverberg
For Bill Hall, nothing eases the work-week tension like
a ten-gallon hat and a loaded .45.