Twenty two year old Roy Dale rode the few miles into town to get his mother two spools of sewing thread, one brown the other white. He tied his horse one hitch rail over from the dress shop. He was asked by a man who had just stopped in front of the bank. “Hey fellow, want to earn yore self four bits?” “Could, what do you want?” “Need you to hold my hoss a couple minutes.” He pitched a half dollar to Roy and looped the right rein over the saddle horn, dismounting and handed Roy the left one. “Be right back.” Three minutes later he walked out of the bank and mounted saying thanks. While turning his horse, he drew his pistol and shot Roy, then slowly rode off up the street and turned a corner before anyone even knew where the shot came from.