The stranger rode into town late in the afternoon. It had been a long ride from Silver Ridge to this God-forsaken one horse cow pie of a place, Billings Brook. From the looks of things, this place was just getting started rebuilding itself after having been burned down. Over half the buildings looked to be partially constructed, and the other half appeared to have been burnt down recently. The only place in town that looked to be nearly complete was the hotel; but upon further inspection, the stranger saw that only the front half of the building was complete. The back half still needed a roof and windows. He rode up in front of a large tent that had a sign over the doorway that read: "Saloon." Sliding off his horse, he tied him to a rail in front. He then dusted himself off, but when he walked away, he still left a trail of dust behind him.