Hell bent for leather

Lean and rangy, lanky, maybe somewhat gangly but certainly not in the least bit willowy, Tab Capslock let his gun hand drift toward the handgun on his gun belt and looked the stranger up and down. He had had just about enough of this crap. Tab Capslock was not one to suffer fools lightly. Suddenly, three things occurred simultaneously, or at least in such rapid succession that it was impossible for a human observer to determine the exact sequence of events. Careful review of high-speed camera footage would have helped, but that was not an option in Tulsa in 1908.