Keith Aurzada was twenty-two years old when he returned to Cheyenne, Wyoming after being away at College. He stepped down from the train, dressed in a pin stripped suit and narrow brim hat. “My how this town has grown.” As he walked down the street, girls looked at him and smiled. One half drunk cowboy said to his buddy, “Now that’s a fancy pants city slicker if I ever saw one. Butch you think maybe he knows how to dance?” He pulled out his pistol and fired two shots into the ground at Keith’s feet. Keith smiled, “Good shooting, with both shots killed that dirt dead.” He nodded his head and touched the brim of his hat and walked on to his folk’s house. His mother Brenda grabbed him for a hug. “Mom, I just saw you two days ago.” His father John said, “Welcome home Son.” As they talked his father asked, “Have you strapped on a gun since you left?” “No, there was no need.” “There will be if you set up your practice in Cheyenne.” “Dad, I’m a lawyer now, not a gunfighter.” John smiled, “That will change in a hurry.”