by Logan, Jake
“Sheriff, Sheriff Whitehill! Come right now. I caught this sneak thief stealin’ a half wheel of cheese from my store!”
Slocum saw the burly owner of the general store with his hand on Billy McCarty’s collar. The boy struggled but couldn’t get free.
“Are you goin’ to arrest him?” the storekeeper demanded.
“A fellow gets mighty hungry, Seth,” the lawman said to the store owner. He heaved a sigh, got to his feet, and took Billy by the arm. “Come along, son. I got to lock you up.”
“You cain’t! Mr. Slocum, you tell him I was only helpin’ out Randolph. He was hungry and—”
“Take this to heart,” Slocum said. “Don’t do anything that’ll get yourself locked up again.”
He glanced at Texas Jack Bedrich’s deed, fought a momentary hesitation, then nodded to the sheriff and stepped into the bright New Mexico sun. He had an Indian pony with a dead man’s saddle on it. He mounted and rode away, trotting past the hotel. He looked up at the window of Marianne’s room, thought he saw the curtain move. He might have been wrong.
“Later,” he said, then put his heels to the horse and galloped east to find somewhere that wasn’t Silver City.