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Marshal.”
    “Can’t blame an old lawman’s instincts for kicking in.” Porter took another drink of the coffee and nodded in satisfaction. “That’s good. So we’ll share this camp tonight and then go our separate ways in the morning? I’m anxious to get back home, and I expect you are, too, Marshal.”
    “That’s right,” Tate said.
    “Copperhead Springs . . . Maybe I’ll get over that way again one of these days.”
    “You’ll be welcome,” Tate assured him. “Copperhead Springs is a nice, friendly place.”

Chapter 5
    After a shared breakfast in the morning, the men saddled up and got ready to ride.
    “Do you want those three horses that belonged to the men you were chasing?” Tate asked Marshal Bob Porter. “We don’t really need them.”
    Porter shook his head. “No, I reckon they’re rightfully yours now.” He patted one of the saddlebags slung on his horse. “I got that jewelry I came after, and the only other thing I wanted was to see those scum brought to justice. You and The Kid here took care of that.”
    “Well, I’m glad we could help out, even though we didn’t know at the time what they’d done.”
    Porter swung into the saddle and lifted a hand in farewell as he turned his horse. The Kid and Tate stood for a moment, watching him ride off to the east before they mounted up as well.
    “It strikes me the marshal is a pretty good hombre,” Tate commented. “And my years carrying a badge have given me a pretty good instinct for such things.”
    “I think you’re right,” The Kid said. “He seemed friendly enough, but if I was a lawbreaker I don’t think I’d want him hunting me.”
    They pushed on west toward Copperhead Springs. As they rode, The Kid asked Tate if he knew how the place got its name.
    “As a matter of fact, I do. This was before I ever came to these parts, of course, but back when the wagon trains were coming through here, one group of immigrants decided to stop and settle at some springs they came to. A good supply of water is one of the most important things a town can have, and these springs looked like they’d been there for a long time and were in no danger of going dry. So the people figured they’d build a town around the springs.
    “They hadn’t been there long, though, before they realized the place was crawling, and I do mean crawling , with copperhead snakes. Several folks got bitten, and a couple even died.
    “So the immigrants were faced with another decision. They could leave that perfect spot for a settlement, or they could stay and try to wipe out the snakes. They decided to stay and fight.”
    “I’m guessing they eventually got rid of the snakes?”
    Tate nodded. “It took a long time, but the old-timers tell me nobody has seen a copperhead around there for more than twenty years. I know I’ve never seen one since I went there to be the marshal. Other kinds of snakes every now and then, but no copperheads. Which is fine with me, because I don’t care for snakes, period.”
    “I don’t, either,” The Kid said. “I spent some time once in a place called Rattlesnake Valley.”
    “Now that is somewhere I would not like to go,” Tate drawled with a smile on his lined face.
    “It’s not quite as bad as it sounds, especially now that all the two-legged reptiles are cleaned out.”
    Tate glanced over at him. “You had something to do with that, I’m betting?”
    “A little,” The Kid admitted.
    When they camped that night after an uneventful day, Tate said, “We ought to make the town by tomorrow evening. I’ll be glad to get back.”
    “Do you have a deputy you left to take care of things while you were gone?” The Kid asked.
    “Oh, sure. Deputy, uh . . . Deputy . . .” Tate laughed and shook his head. “If that don’t beat all. I’ve had so many deputies they’re getting all mixed up in my head. And this boy’s almost like a son to me.”
    “Well, it doesn’t really matter,” The Kid said. “I’ll be meeting