AUGUST 10, 1861

Guthrie Stone came riding into Dreamville. He was looking for a job. He had been a ranch hand at numerous places, a hired tracker, been bartender here and there, and he had even been a deputy for a short period of time. The town was quiet for a Saturday afternoon. He spotted the 'Help Wanted' sign immediately in the window of the bordello. He stopped in front of it and swung down out of the saddle. He picked up the sign, glanced up and down the street, not seeing anybody, before entering.

Stone slapped the sign down on the bar. "Who do I see about getting hired?" Directing his question to the bartender.

Dean stopped wiping off the bar and walked over. "Well, that would be me. I'm Dean Hamilton, part owner of this here establishment. And who might you be?"

"I'm Guthrie Stone, but everybody calls me Stone." He replied in a deep gruff voice.

"Well, Mr. Stone--"

"Just Stone," he interrupted.

"Stone." Dean nodded. "I'm looking for a bartender. Do you have any experience?"

"I've tended bar here and there. I'm sure I can do an adequate job." Stone answered.

"Ok, I'll give a try.” Dean wasn’t sure about the newcomer, but he was tired of being the bartender. “Come on I’ll show you were you can lay your head to rest when you’re not tending bard.” Stone followed Dean.

After leaving Stone in his room and telling him to freshen up and come downstairs when he was ready, Dean walked back down to the bar thinking he’d better keep an eye on the newcomer just to make sure that the girls are kept safe at least until he could trust Stone to watch over them.