As Caleb walked out, bumping into the deputy and then first stealing his gun and shattering a window, Red raised an eyebrow. The Sheriff watched as his deputy ran off and then looked around the Saloon before ending with his eyes on Red's hand confidently still on his belt. The Sheriff cleared his throat before raising a hand to waist-height, flexing his fingers as he did so. As the Sheriff got ready, Red rolled himself a cigarette with a smug smile on his lips before placing it on his lips and starting to look for matches.
By the time the deputy was far down the street in search of Caleb, the Saloon rang with the noise of a gunshot. Smoke rose from the barrel of a six shooter and the people in the Saloon looked quietly at the scene. Red Dalton stood with a lit cigarette on his lips and his eyes peeled on the sight in front of him. The Sheriff's revolver was on the ground with a clear bullet ricochet on it's side and the Sheriff stared at Red. Suddenly, the Sheriff knelt and reached for a hidden weapon in his boot. Swiftly the hammer cocked back on Red's revolver and then slammed against the next bullet. This bullet hit, going through the Sheriff's wrist and then lodging not that deep inside his leg.
Red reloaded the revolver, spun it around his finger and then slid it in the holster while stepping towards the Sheriff that was now whimpering and groaning of pain. The bartender looked at the scene as Red walked to the Sheriff, placed the heel of his boot against the injured man's shoulder and kicked him on his back before going outside the revolving doors. Once the man left, the saloon went back into regular business even though the bartender rushed to the doc and noted of the major injuries the sheriff got in the modest shootout. Outside, a disappointed mortician went once again on his way since there were no bodies there.