"Suit yourself." Holland said once the Sheriff had given his answer. "Come find me when you can and I'll see about gettin' you that drink." As he watched Dalton go, Holland's usually stoic and inexpressive face tinged somewhat with worry. Though the Sheriff had tried to hide it, Holland saw something in Dalton's eyes that the young gunslinger had rarely seen before. Fear. Holland had watched this man charge a machine gun nest with nothing but a six shooter. During their days with the Texas Reds, he and Haskell would stand in full on bullet storms when all others had ducked for cover. And when someone needed to serve as live bait for a super mutant behemoth that had been terrorizing the roads in the early days of Independence, he said nothing. He simply mounted up and rode off into the behemoth's lair. If something had a man like Sheriff Dalton scared, it was something to worry about. Holland filed that worry away for the time being though. There was nothing he could do for now, and if he worried to much he might make a scene and set the whole town to worrying. So instead, he put his face back the way it was and turned to Grognak. "I hear tell Ol' Duffy managed to get in some of the really good stuff for today." Holland said. "Wanna go see if there's any truth to that?"