Houston's Story

by Abe Dancer

  ‘How indeed, Mr Houston. I’ll see to it.’

  Leaving the Jarrow house, Houston walked slowly along the main street. The night air was almost as stifling as it had been during the heat of the day. But soon he would be riding north towards Idaho and Yellowstone Lake.

  There was a printed circular on Myron Games’ desk. A notice that, for anyone interested, good money could be earned in North Montana. It was for the capture and return of Canadian border jumpers.

  Houston grinned contentedly, wondered how long it had taken Bullhead’s sheriff to re-discover it.