Bo Cassidy was known as the Kindale Kid. Rough and tough and a sure shot. he carried a pair of 45's and wasn't shy about using them. He was 17 years old and fearless as 17 year-old's are. He rode into Hellhole, Montana, hot and thirsty. He wanted some whiskey.

He strode up to the bar. Sam, the owner and barkeep, walked over to the Kindale Kid and said, “Whatta ya have? Sasparilla or Sasparilla?”

The Kid didn’t like the question. the implication or Sam’s tone of voice.

“I said whiskey. You deef or sompin’”

“No. I heard you. Let’s see some id.”

“Some what?”

“Id. Something that shows me you’re old enough to drink whiskey.”

The Kid thought that over and opened his coat to show his guns. “I reckon these here 45’s say I’m old enough.”

Sam looked the Kid over and pulled up a sawed off shotgun from below the bar.

“You reckon wrong, kid.”

The Kid thought that over. Draw against the sawed off shotgun or put his tail between his legs like a mongrel dog.

Now days the Kindale Kid is known as Sasparilla Sally. He makes a few bucks cleaning outhouses.