Sam almost vaulted out of his skin. He had been so intent on further examining the assassin's body for clues that he hadn't seen the other man enter.

Still, another brigand creeping up to do someone in would scarcely announce himself so politely.

This new arrival had about him the air not only of a warrior, but also of someone far too familiar with dragons. Sam knew this feeling. He owed the Sometimes Saloon to a fortunate encounter with a dragon, who had delivered both Sam and his sister, Kowloon Kate, from imminent slavery. The fact that they were both doing 999 year stints as proprietors of waystations based somewhere askew in space and time was beside the point. Sam considered it life insurance.

"Sam I am!" he replied cheerfully, "and you look as though you could use a Potted Panda, on the house. More than one if you want, and then you tell me about your dragon and what you're doing here tonight of all nights."