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in them dime novels, my ol’ heart went . . . bong!
    She was about five foot, two inches tall. Robin’s-egg-blue eyes, hair the color of wheat. Heartshaped face. Figure that was . . . well, it was!
    Somebody ought to write a song about five foot two and eyes of blue. Be a right catchy tune, I bet.
    I took my hat off and took a step towards her. The toe of my boot caught on the lip of the boardwalk and I fell forward. I grabbed her and she grabbed me and together the two of us kept me from falling down.
    Plumb embarrassin’! But she sure did feel nice, though.
    She thought it was right funny. Personal, I didn’t see the humor in it.
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    My eyes bugged out when I seen the contents of that hat. More than two hundred dollars in there. I wanted to keep the Stetson, too, but the owner balked at that.
    Jeff Baker, Pepper’s brother, sent around a boy with two double eagles for me.
    All in all, it was turnin’ out to be a pretty nice day.
    The lawyer and Junior had been bonded out, both of ’em madder than hell. Shadows was beginnin’ to creep around the town as me and Rusty got dressed for the social. I’d bought me a new suit and had the Chinaman press it to get the shelf marks out. My boots was blacked and I was all decked out in a new shirt with a little string tie. My face was patted down smelly-good with Bay Rum. I strapped on my guns and pinned on my badge.
    A little boy stuck his head into the office.
    â€œSheriff?”
    â€œThat’s him with the big feet,” Rusty said with a grin.
    I give him a look that didn’t have no effect a-tall and took the envelope from the boy and give him some money for a sarsaparilla drink. The kid ducked out of the office.
    Careful-like, I tore off one end of the envelope. A double eagle rolled out. I grinned like a schoolboy as I read the note. Pretty handwritin’. My box is wrapped in red. White bow. It was signed Pepper.
    Rusty was peerin’ over my shoulder. “Lord have mercy!”
    â€œMind your own truck!” I careful folded the note and tucked it away in my pocket. I’d save it; that was the first letter I’d ever got in my life, posted or otherwise.
    Rusty wouldn’t let up. “Man! Pepper Baker’s had suitors lined up from the Sweetwater to the South Fork Shoshone. But she never give none of ’em the time of day.”
    â€œYeah? Well, maybe she ain’t never met no one quite like me.”
    â€œYeah,” he agreed with a grin. “I’d shore go along with that.” He drew back and looked at me. “There must be somethin’ there, but damned if I can see it. You look like a lost calf in a snowstorm.”
    â€œWell, you shore ain’t got nothin’ to brag about. I never seen so many freckles.”
    We insulted each other for a time then walked outside, laughing.
    â€œTake the other side of the street, Rusty. We’ll make rounds and then meet up at the school.”
    I might not be no great shakes as a lawman, but I was gonna give it all I had.
    Steppin’ into the cantina, I nodded to the barkeep, a big rough-lookin’ Mex with a bushy moustache. He didn’t look like he was too thrilled to see me, but he also knew there wasn’t nothin’ he could do about it.
    â€œJust makin’ rounds, barkeep,” I assured him. “No trouble.”
    He nodded his head and relaxed a mite, putting his hands on the bar to show me they was empty. I took a casual look around the place.
    The clothing and the low-heeled boots and clodhopper shoes of the men told me that most were farmers and sheepmen. Walkin’ around the room, I introduced myself, usually sayin’ something like, “If you got a problem, don’t hesitate to come to me with it. I’m here to enforce the law, fair and equal.”
    They liked it, I could tell that. Whether they believed I’d actual follow through on it was something else agin.
    It was dusk when I