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The bullet cut through his wrist.
    Keeping their guns trained on their targets, the two marshals strode forward. Ryan reached Riley first. He removed his weapons, ignoring the man’s squeals of agony, and prodded him toward Sheriff Norton’s jail.
    Eagle was bellowing like a wounded boar. Much to Cole’s frustration, he wouldn’t stand still, but danced around in a gyrating jig.
    â€œYou ruined my shooting hand, Clayborne. You ruined my shooting hand,” he screeched.
    â€œI heard you the first time,” Cole grumbled. “Stand still, damn it. I’m taking your guns.”
    Eagle wouldn’t comply, and Cole quickly tired of chasing him. He let out a sigh, grabbed hold of the gunslinger by his collar, and slammed his fist into his jaw, knocking him unconscious. He continued to hold him up until he’d removed his gun, then let him drop to the ground. Gripping the scruff of his neck, he dragged him to Norton.
    The sheriff was beaming at the two marshals from the boardwalk. “Guess I’ll have to go get the doc to patch them two up,” he remarked.
    â€œGuess so,” Cole replied.
    The sheriff rushed back inside, snatched his keys off the desktop, and hurried on to unlock two cells. A moment later, the gunfighters were pushed inside.
    There wasn’t time for the sheriff’s congratulations, for no sooner had the cell door slammed shut than Ryan was called outside by the telegraph clerk. When Cole joined him on the boardwalk, one look at the marshal told Cole something bad had happened. He was surprised when Ryan handed the wire to him.
    Cole read the contents while Ryan gave the news to Sheriff Norton. “There’s been another robbery.” His voice was flat.
    Norton shook his head. “How many dead this time?”
    â€œSeven.”
    â€œWhere did it happen?” Norton asked.
    â€œRockford Falls.”
    â€œThat ain’t far from here. I can tell you how to get there.”
    â€œHow far is it?”
    â€œAbout forty miles over some rough terrain.”
    â€œYou might want to keep your eyes open in case any of them pass through here again. I doubt they will,” Ryan added. “They’ve already hit this bank. Cole, are you riding with me?”
    He shook his head and handed the wire back to Ryan. “It’s not my problem.”
    Ryan said nothing. Squinting against the sunlight, his eyes narrowed and his brow wrinkled into a frown. Suddenly he grabbed hold of Cole’s vest and shoved him backward off his feet. Before Cole could recover and retaliate—his fingers were flexing into a fist—Ryan stole his thunder by apologizing.
    â€œI’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I let my temper get the upper hand. Look, you’re right. You didn’t ask for any of this, and the robberies aren’t your problem. They’re mine. I just thought … hoped, anyway … that you would want to help. I won’t accept your resignation, though. You’re going to have to ride to the regional office and surrender your badge to the marshal there. Sheriff Norton will give you the directions. I’ve got to get going to Rockford Falls before the trail grows cold. No hard feelings?” he asked as he put his hand out.
    Cole shrugged and shook Ryan’s hand. “No hard feelings.”
    Ryan headed for the stable at a run. Cole watchedhim leave and then followed the sheriff inside the jail to find out where in tarnation the regional office was located.
    â€œIf it isn’t close by, I’m sending the badge back,” he told the sheriff.
    Norton sat down heavily behind his desk and stacked his hands on top of his papers. “I don’t think Marshal Ryan will cotton to that idea. Those badges are considered sacred, son. I wouldn’t get him riled up if I was you. He went to considerable trouble getting you appointed, and it sure seems peculiar to me that he didn’t want to argue with you