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fairly bulgin’ at the seams. I’m tellin’ you this ’cause I know now you ain’t Val Dooley. I went back to the office and took me a peek at some new dodgers on Dooley. I figure you’re maybe five or six years older than Val. But the resemblance is really spooky.”
    â€œAnd you think you night need some help?”
    Once again, the marshal sighed. “That’s it, Morgan. I ain’t no young squirt no more. I took this job ’cause I’m too damn lazy to farm or log.” He smiled. “But oddly ’nuff, I’ve turned into a pretty fair lawman.”
    â€œI’m sure you are, Marshal.”
    â€œHow ’bout it, Morgan. Want to help out an old fat man?”
    Frank smiled. “I’ll stick around for a time, Marshal. Things might prove real interesting here in Chance.”
    â€œBoy, that’s a relief to my mind, Morgan.”
    â€œCall me Frank, please.”
    â€œFrank, it is. I’m Tom.” He stood up and stuck out his hand. “I’m right proud you’re gonna be helpin’ out.”
    The office door opened and Lara stepped out to stand close to the bench. Frank could smell the heady fragrance of her perfume. He looked up; her blue eyes locked with his. Frank knew right then he was in trouble. Silent messages passed between the gunfighter and the lady. Totally inappropriate missives.
    Frank stood up and removed his hat. “Ma’am,” he said.
    â€œMy husband will see you now, Mr. Morgan,” Lara replied.
    â€œThank you.”
    Lara glanced at the marshal. “Marshal,” she said, acknowledging his presence.
    â€œMrs. Whitter,” Tom said. “You’re looking well.”
    She nodded and stepped closer to Frank. Any closer, Frank thought, and we would be subject to a lot of gossip.
    â€œGood day, gentlemen,” Lara said. She brushed against Frank as she walked away. The scent of her lingered.
    â€œThat there is one helluva woman,” the marshal said softly. “Too much for any one man to handle.”
    â€œYou’re probably right about that, Tom.”
    â€œI been told that she and her husband are havin’ a mite of trouble. I also been told that John is a man that’s prone to hittin’.”
    â€œHe hits her?” Frank asked.
    â€œThat’s the word around town.”
    â€œHas she been unfaithful to him?”
    â€œLara? Oh, no. And believe me, in a town this size, I would know.”
    â€œHard to believe a man would strike something that beautiful.”
    â€œHe does, though,” the marshal said. “Dr. Evans has... well . . .” He paused for a few seconds. “I’m talkin’ too much. When you get your business done with John, come see me, Frank.” “I will.”
    The marshal walked away, and Frank stepped into the lawyer’s office. The scent of Lara lingered in the hallway.
    It was very disconcerting.

FIVE
    John Whitter and Frank went over to the bank, met with the bank president, and began the process of verifying Frank’s identity. It didn’t take long. By closing time, Frank’s bankers in both Denver and San Francisco, and his attorney, working with John Whitter, had established who he was beyond any shadow of a doubt.
    Frank walked over to the marshal’s office, and Tom smiled when Frank opened the door. “Coffee’s hot and fresh,” he said. “Cups hanging on hooks on the wall.” He pointed. “Help yourself, Frank.”
    Coffee poured, Frank sat down and rolled a smoke. “I’ve decided to take you up on your offer, Tom. Who swears me in?”
    â€œI do. Stand up and raise your right hand.”
    The quick ceremony over, Frank pinned on the star and sat back down to enjoy his coffee and smoke.
    â€œYou speak to the town council about this?” Frank asked.
    â€œYes. While you were meeting at the bank. They were all in favor of it.”
    â€œThat’s