There was the little problem of who'd pay for the burials, though. As if that thought had produced him, a man hurried up. He was tall and lanky, with ...ale skin and was wearing a stovepipe hat that was easily a foot tall."Four!?" gasped the undertaker."It's a red letter day for you, Mister Remmington," said Sheriff Cross."Who are they?" That remains unclear." Who's going to pay?" asked the sallow man."We'll sell their gear," said Cross. "That should more than compensate you."Cross stepped up. They had decided to let her start training on the street. In the next few days, she was going to team up with her first partner and she was looking forward to it. She anticipated a much better attitude towards her job in the near future. But tonight, she was at a party, a very sexy party, that one of the club’s regular patrons was throwing. Her body was already pounding with excitement as she wandered around the spacious home. The hostess’ name was Miko. She was perhaps one of the most. She was always saying things about mine."Bad dog!" she would say. Sometimes it seemed that she would say it all day. But I learned. It really wasn't the only thing that she said. It wasn't even the commonest."Come on boy!" she would say. That meant a romp in the yard or a walk outside. In the yard it meant a game of fetch, usually. Every once in a while it meant a game of tag in the yard. Those were the times when she filled a tub with the hose and got out the soap first."Oh Wiggles!" she would. Also, the changes at the doors and windows means you’re now a lot safer from attack. All you need is a good cellar to fill with food, plenty of gunpowder, plus lots of Minié balls, and you’ll be safe from anything short of an artillery attack. I’d even suggest looking at digging a second well in the basement, if you can. That way you can hole up for many days.” Both Sam and Jim slowly nod their agreement before going into a longer discussion about what can be done to help them survive a major.