Revenge of the Spanish Prisoner. 4, I ride into town

I rode quickly into town. The locals are a reserved lot, and they respect a girl's privacy. As I tied up my horse I heard someone playing a guitar. Night was just beginning to fall - the time when crooks like the Akenbola brothers do their crimes.
With my broad-brimmed hat on my head, I strolled down the main street, headed for the little chapel of the Holy Spirit. Well, for the area around it. There's a bar there where a girl can get all the information she wants, plus a lot she doesn't want.
Or maybe that's just the result of my wearing a tight grey outfit.
I entered the bar, spurs jangling. People looked up.
"The Girl in Grey!" the landlord exclaimed. "What brings you here, Señorita?"
"Oh, same as last time. J. Bucky Akenbola's escaped. What do you know about him?"
"I know, Señorita, that he is a very bad man who does not like you very much."
"Great. That makes two of us - he tried to blow me up earlier, and he left a great big hole in my hacienda, which I'm not to keen about. So, where are the brothers?"
"The word, Señorita, is that they are in the village of Viñacos, across the plateau from here."
"Do you know anyone in Viñacos?" I asked.
"No, I regret I do not. There is no-one who lived in Viñacos now, it is deserted many years. But I hear from vagabond that there are people there now, people who ought not to be there."

"Yeah, and there are people who ought not to be in you bar here."
The man was huge. He looked like some sort of wrestler.
"Señor?" the landlord queried.
"I mean that kid in the grey suit."
"She is a friend, Señor."
"Yeah, well I don't like your friends. Get her!"
A dozen men jumped to their feet and pulled knives. Great, I thought, a fight in a bar. With knives.
Within seconds the locals had produced knives as well, and there was a real Spanish rough-house going on. I drew my whip and joined in. That's the wonderful thing about knives - they need to be used up close.
I was up against the bar, my whip cracking menacingly.
"Stop!"
There, in the doorway, was O. Bucky Akenbola. His right arm was a huge gun.