The Polka Saloon. Sunset. Suddenly the sheriff rises from the faro table and snarls at an amateur gunslinger: "Ragazzo, e l'whisky che lavora [Boy, your whisky is too strong]." His angry Italian rings strangely in that watering place of the American frontier. His opponent is fast on the draw, but not fast enough: on the stairway appears a girl in fringed jerkin and boots, firing from the hip. The revolver spins out of the gunslinger's hand. The girl strides coolly across the bar. "Vi do la buona sera, sceriffo" she says to the sheriff....
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