Late entry for the penciljack cowboy jamboree:

I have no idea how I’d cope if I were me living back then. If someone challenged me to guns at noon I’d be two states away by 11:30. Maybe I could be a wanted poster artist. I might be tempted by stories of the gold rush, but I’d probably figure that anybody striking it rich by the time I got out there would be working a lot harder than I would. I’d probably try to work my way up thru the railroad and get a conductor job whilst moonlighting as a racy novel illustrator. I’d have a bitchin’ hat and moustache, tho.

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