The man from Bisbee was large and heavily whiskered. He brought his boots down on the dusty surface of Tombstone's main street as if he were stomping the life out of something he loathed and despised. His gleaming eye was full of the scorn which all the citizens of Bisbee felt for Tombstone. Growling to himself, he kicked open the swinging door of the Crystal Palace and turned to jerk viciously at the leash which was wound around his hand. At the other end of the leash was a large, live, resentful wildcat.
- From Billy King's Tombstone by C. L. Sonnichsen
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