”“You can go explain that to the dealer on your way over to the Matis Job,” the woman told him. “I know you’re pissed. Rip into the crew at ...he Matis Job. If you stop off at a bar along the way, just go on home. I’m not keeping you on my payroll if you are drinking on my time. My dad may have overlooked that shit, but I’m not my dad.”Bob huffed off into the office.“David,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Katty. Most people call me Kat and have since my dad let me onto my first job site. I think we need to make today a holiday. Something like Fred the Sharpshooter Day."There was a giggle, but Fred protested. "Oh no. You don't pin this day on me. You were the first to ride that wildcat into the atmosphere, and you told me how much to adjust my aim. It should be Leader James' Day."The giggling became louder but before I could speak one of the twins replied. "A holiday is a great idea, but we'll worry about the name later. Right now we have two grav sleds heading over to collect. Some took 10 bore and others selected 12 bore weapons.Mr. Brentwood had been a Military man and taught us to be a Ranging Company. During the winter we maneuvered our horses as a Ranger Company just the Guerilla fighters in the War. He chopped off some Navy revolver barrels for hideouts and had a few of the .32 caliber revolvers in stock that were perfect for hideouts, even making leather pouches with a shoulder strap to hold them. Mr. Brentwood died in the spring and we buried him. His. The man is of about average height with brown hair, accented by grey at the temples. He is of average build as well. He wears glasses over his light blue eyes. His lab coat is an immaculate white without even a speck of dirt upon it. He wears his coat over a grey shirt and black pants. With brown loafers to complete his suit, he is the spitting image of a scientist from a movie or perhaps a tv show. The glass wall dividing the room makes the other half of the room, the half not cluttered with.