Allen was surrounded by the Walking Sticks, staring down the barrel of One’s revolver. He was at a loss for words. Gersha had a confused smile on her face, but was reassured. One told her this was just a formality. “Hey buddy,” One said, his smile since faded, “I think you owe these fine people an apology.” “What’s going on, though, mister?” Gersha asked politely. “Why are you pointing the gun at Mr. Allen?” Gersha’s eyes narrowed at Allen. “Come with me, ma’am.” Said Nine, “They’re going to need some space. You should count your blessings. We’ve just rescued you from a very dangerous man.”