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kept smilin’.
    â€œWhen my father orders you to do something,” squirt said to me, “you will, by God, do it!”
    Pushiest bunch of damn folks I ever did see. Sorta put a damper on my right friendly smile.
    â€œSonny,” I said, “you best run along now, ’fore I jerk you off that horse and have to teach you some manners . . . like your pa and ma should have done a long time ago.”
    Joy took to fannin’ herself like she was comin’ down with the flashes, or something, and ol’ A.J. blustered.
    â€œHow dare you!” ol’ A.J. squalled.
    Young Junior looked like he was gonna have a heart attack.
    Behind me, a woman said, “Junior sure needs it, Sheriff, and I’d give a double eagle just to see you do it.”
    â€œAnd I double her offer,” a young man said.
    I didn’t know who was sayin’ what, ’cause I wasn’t about to take my eyes off Junior.
    â€œLet’s pass the hat for the Sheriff,” somebody hollered. “Put the money right in here, ladies and gents.”
    â€œI think I’ll just kill you!” Junior hollered, then grabbed for iron.

Chapter Three
    I been blessed with good coordination near’bouts all my life. I’m a shade under six feet tall, but I weigh more than most people would guess, and I’m uncommonly strong, with a lot of hardpacked muscle in my arms and shoulders.
    You wrestle beeves all your life and you get that a-way.
    And I’m quick . . . real quick. I wintered with a China-person one time; got to be real good friends with him. He taught me a different way to fight, and taught me concentration.
    He told me what it was he was teachin’ me, but damned if I could ever pronounce it. He used to get so tickled at me tryin’ to talk China-talk he’d just roll over and fall out laughin’.
    So when Junior grabbed for iron, I just reached up and snatched him off that horse and gave him a little midair help towards a water trough. He landed face-first, full length, and sank like a rock.
    Through it all, I heard Rusty ear back the hammer on his .44 and say, “First man to grab iron, I put lead in Mike Romain.”
    â€œAnd I’m standin’ behind the deputy!” That same young man’s voice said, the one who doubled the ante of the woman, “Backin’ the law.”
    I didn’t have time to see who else was with me in this squabble. ’Cause ol’ A.J. was hollerin’ and squawkin’ things like, “Intolerable,” and “Out-rageous!” Joy and Wanda was actin’ and soundin’ like a bunch of guinea hens, and Junior was comin’ up outta that hoss trough, mad as a hellfire and brimstone preacher with a sore throat.
    Junior had lost his pearl-handled pistols somewhere between saddle and hoss trough, and his pretty duds was all messed up and smelly. He was cussin’! His momma would have washed his mouth out with soap! Then he took a swing at me.
    I poleaxed him with one big hard fist and he dropped like a ripe tomato off the vine, down, but not out.
    Reachin’ down, I got me a handful of wet silk shirt and hauled him to his feet and give him a little shove toward the jail. I say little shove, he musta tripped or something, ’cause he went down face full in the dirt.
    â€œYou’re under arrest,” I told him. “Threatenin’ the life of a peace officer and disturbin’ the peace.”
    And his pappy started hollerin’ like a hog caught up in barbed wire.
    â€œI’m going to faint!” Joy squalled.
    â€œGood!” I yelled. “Maybe that would shut you up!”
    That really got Ol’ A.J. riled up.
    â€œWatch my back!” I yelled over my shoulder, and never stopped walkin’ and shovin’ Junior, who had him a dirty face and a bad case of bleedin’ and busted mouth.
    â€œYou cain’t do this to me!” Junior hollered, squishin’ along in his