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smiled. “Good boy there.”
    â€œThanks. But he’s a handful, I assure you.”
    â€œI ’spect he is.” Frank cut his eyes as a woman walked up to stand by Lawyer Whitter. And what a woman! She was surely one of the most beautiful women Frank had ever seen. Blond hair and blue eyes. Frank immediately took off his hat.
    â€œMr. Morgan,” the lawyer said, “this is my wife, Lara. Lara, Frank Morgan.”
    Lara smiled and held out a hand. Frank gently took the softness in his hard and callused hand. “A pleasure, Mrs. Whitter.”
    â€œMr. Morgan,” Lara said softly. “The famous pistol shooter?”
    Frank smiled. “I reckon, ma’am.”
    â€œMy word!” She fanned herself with a gloved hand. “What in the world brings you to our little town?”
    â€œJust passing through, ma’am.”
    â€œPlease call me Lara, Mr. Morgan.”
    â€œAs you wish, Lara.”
    â€œMay we speak for a moment, John?” Lara asked her husband. “It’s rather important.”
    â€œDo you mind, Mr. Morgan?” the attorney asked.
    â€œNot at all. Take your time. I’ll just sit down out here and have me a smoke.”
    The lawyer and his wife stepped into the office. Frank sat down on a bench on the boardwalk and rolled a smoke. Before he had finished his cigarette, half a dozen locals appeared, each carrying a penny dreadful, asking that Frank sign their copy.
    â€œBe glad to,” Frank told them. “Just don’t believe all that’s written on the pages. Most of it is nonsense.”
    â€œYou mean these writers are telling lies about you?” a woman asked.
    â€œWell,” Frank said with a smile, “let’s just say they’re stretching the truth a mite.”
    â€œYou don’t look like a depraved killer,” a man stated.
    Frank glanced at the man. “What does a depraved killer look like?”
    The local grinned sheepishly. “Good point, Mr. Morgan.”
    Just as the autograph seekers were leaving, the marshal huffed up and sat down on the bench beside Frank. He mopped his sweaty face with a bandanna and said, “You always create this much of a stir when you hit town?”
    â€œNot usually, Marshal. How’s the young gunhand?”
    â€œHe has a sore jaw and a big mouth. But I keep reminding him that he’s still alive. You would have been justified in killing him, Morgan.”
    â€œI know. But it all worked out my way.”
    â€œUntil I turn him loose.”
    â€œMaybe he’ll cool down by then.”
    â€œWhere’s Lawyer John?”
    â€œWith his wife in the office. Beautiful woman, that Lara.”
    â€œYou’ll get no argument from me about that. She’s a big-city woman. From somewheres back East.”
    â€œShe like it out here?”
    â€œNot much,” the marshal said. “Place ain’t refined enough for her tastes. She told one woman here in town that she missed the opera and the symphony and high-toned e-vents like that. Ballet too, I think she said.”
    â€œI guess moving out here would be quite a letdown.”
    â€œI reckon. You gonna be in town long, Morgan?”
    â€œDay or two, I reckon. I want to get this mess about who I am straightened out, and get some supplies and a couple of meals I don’t have to cook myself. Don’t worry, Marshal. I’m not planning on starting any trouble.”
    â€œOh, I wasn’t thinkin’ you would, Morgan. Nothin’ like that.”
    â€œWhat is it, Marshal? Something is gnawing on you.”
    The marshal sighed. “Val Dooley is in this area, Morgan. I was warned by telegraph ’bout it. He’s got him a big gang and the sheriffs all around in a five-county area is sendin’ out warnin’s ’bout the gang hittin’ the towns.”
    Frank nodded his head in understanding. He waited.
    â€œThis is a rich town, Morgan. I mean rich! The bank is