Archie sat on the stage at the far end of the saloon, swinging his legs gently. Outside, a hubbub was happening and he really didn't care, he lost the motivation to get the ten grand and in the end he seemed to have lost more, dignity. Archie heard the yells of surrender and slumped, he didn't know what was to happen now or how Rose would react upon seeing him after his slip up but he knew it would be no good. He stopped swinging his legs and looked out at the saloon doors, he could leave town he pondered but quickly dismissed that notion, he had too much here to just up and leave; he could become a hermit, that appealed to him but no one liked hermits; in the end he just settled on going back home.

Buttoning up his coat and slipping the revolver into his pocket, he stepped out into the sharp night air and payed the unfolding scene no mind, as far as he was concerned it didn't apply to him anymore. The thing that was on his mind though was mending the bridge with Rose, if the bridge indeed had been broken as he hypothesized; he did not know how to do so.

"I'll think of something in the morning." he mumbled to himself.