The gunmen may have been a little long in the tooth, but they were still quick on the draw. Shots jolted people awake from their afternoon naps, bodies hit the dust, and horses pulling a stagecoach nearby nervously twitched their ears.
It looked like the infamous Clanton Gang was back in town. This time, though, hardy citizens did not dive under the tables.
Loud cheers erupted from a crowd of schoolchildren brought here on several buses, while the dead picked themselves up -- and went to collect tips.
Rancher Robert Elk Pony slid his Colt into a holster and mopped his brow. "If you do it for too long, it can really wear you down," he sighed.
Like many times in the past, this southern Arizona town at the foot of the Dragoon Mountains is earning its living fighting -- literally and figuratively.
Nobody can remember how many times fate has dealt Tombstone a lousy hand.
There have been Apache raids, highway robberies, droughts, fires and all sorts of economic cataclysms that long ago forced neighbors to pull up stakes and head for greener pastures.
But Tombstone soldiered on, always grasping at the last straw -- and, miraculously, always pulling through.
"We were once called a town that is too tough to die, and that's certainly true," laughs Mayor Dustin Escapule, a barrel-chested rancher with a preference for cream-colored Stetson hats, whose family has lived in the town since its founding.
The science of giving up, it appears, has never made it to the local school curriculum.
When he came to this valley in 1877, prospector Ed Schieffelin was told he was more likely to find his tombstone here than silver. He shrugged off the warning, went to work and staked his first silver mining claim two years later.
The discovery drew in treasure hunters, adventure seekers, prostitutes and gunslingers anxious for a quick buck.
The citizens claimed the town back on Oct. 26, 1881, when the Earp brothers, one of whom was marshal, took on the so-called Clanton Gang at the OK Corral, killing three of its members.
The 30-second gunfight caused a coast-to-coast outcry and went down in history as the epitome of the Wild West and its bare-knuckled ways.
But they did not brag about it -- until they found themselves on the ropes.
The mining boom went bust around Tombstone in the early 20th century, leaving behind a litter of ghost towns with caved-in roofs and gaping windows.
According to some counts, there are more than 275 such towns in Arizona, silent monuments to snuffed-out dreams.
If the rules of economics were the only ones at work here, Tombstone would have become a shell of its former self a long time ago.
But not if the rules took into account human grit.
"Tombstone has always survived, although the population at one time went down to 600" from its peak of about 7,000, boasts Escapule.
When mining concerns began folding their tents, people remembered the shootout at the OK Corral and reached for their guns.
It would now become a show business town, they decided.
The historical downtown was restored, including saloons and the Bird Cage Theater, a cabaret-cum-brothel which, in its heyday, was the site of 16 gunfights.
Retired actors and Old West aficionados have been invited to produce daily re-enactments of the fights.
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