'Well ... sure, I do. If you leave, and the town council approves it.'
'They'll approve it. You're a good, solid, steady man, Jerry. Both you and Angie are respected by the townspeople. You'll both do just fine.'
'Maybe Mrs. Browning will pull through.'
'I don't believe in miracles. Doc Bracken told me this morning her coma has deepened. She'll starve to death if she doesn't come out of it.'
'What about the outlaws?'
'They're gone. Packed up, saddled up, and gone. Very doubtful they'll ever be back.'
'Your mind's made up, isn't it?'
'All the way, Jer.'
'Maybe something will happen that will change your mind. I'd like to see you stay.'
Frank nodded his head in understanding and stood up. 'I don't know what that would be, but thanks for saying it. The prisoners are all settled down. It's all quiet. Let's go walk the town.'
'They put The Kid in the ground yet?'
'I don't think so. I don't think Malone's had time to fix him up yet.'
'To be no bigger than he was, The Kid could sure soak up some lead.'
'He did, for a fact. The Kid was as game as any man I ever faced.'
The two lawmen walked the town, the sounds of sawing and hammering all around them, the smell of fresh-cut lumber strong in the air.
'This town might be here even when the mines play out,' Jerry remarked.
'Could be. It sure wouldn't surprise me at all. Some cattlemen are gonna have to come in here. Maybe a few people raising horses. When the mines play out, the town will shrink down. But you've got a telegraph office and a bank, and some determined people. That's what it takes.'
'Oh, hell!' Jerry said, 'Here comes that writer fellow.'
'Damn!' Frank muttered.
'Marshal Morgan,' Louis Pettigrew called. 'Might I have a word with you, sir?'
'Do I have a choice?' Frank whispered.
Jerry laughed. 'I'll make the rounds. You two have a good time.'
'Thanks, Jer. You're a real pal.'
Jerry waved and walked on, leaving Frank with Pettigrew. Frank noticed Conrad and Charles Dutton walking up the boardwalk on the other side of the street. Even from that distance Frank could tell that Conrad appeared very pale. _Boy's under a hell of a strain_, Frank thought. _Dutton probably got him away from his mother's side to get him out for a walk and some fresh air. Or_, Frank amended, _maybe the bastard has something else up his sleeve, like setting the boy up for a kill_.
'Ah, Marshal...' Pettigrew said. 'I would like to talk with you about doing your life's story. Would you be willing to discuss that?'
Frank looked at the Boston writer. 'I beg your pardon? What did you say?'
Pettigrew looked pained. He sighed and said, 'I wish to write your life story. There are a great many people back east who are clamoring for more information about Frank Morgan.'
'Is that a fact?'
'Absolutely, Marshal. And it would be a very lucrative venture for you, I must say.'
'I'll sure give it some thought, Mr. Pettigrew.'
'Wonderful, Marshal. And let me say that the, ah, gunfight I witnessed yesterday out there in the street was a magnificent sight. Very dramatic.'
Frank was watching Conrad and Dutton. They had stopped on the corner and were chatting. Conrad had his back to the street. 'Dramatic, Mr. Pettigrew?'
'It certainly was. I can truthfully say I have never seen anything like it.'
'You ever witnessed a hanging, Mr. Pettigrew?'
'Good heavens, no.'
The morning stage was rumbling up the street, a day late due to the road being blocked the day before. The telegraph wires had been fixed, messages had been sent out that the reports of plague in the town were false, and the road had been reopened.
'A hanging can be very dramatic, Mr. Pettigrew. Especially when the neck isn't broken and the victim jerks around for several minutes, slowly choking to death. It's quite a sight.' Frank said this with a very straight face.
Pettigrew was turning a bit green around the mouth. 'I'll take your word for that, Marshal.'
'I can probably arrange for you to witness an execution. If you would like that.'
'Ah ... thank you, Marshal, but no. Your description of the event is graphic enough.'
Frank watched Button put his hands on the young man's shoulders and reposition him, fully presenting
