hard way, dulled the senses and the reflexes, and with half the


gunslingers in the territory wanting to build their reputations by


killing him in a shoot-out, he wasn't about to drink anything more


dulling than water.




Someone was having a mighty fine time. He heard laughter again and


tried to turn his head toward the sound. Pain shot up from the base of


his neck, causing bile to rush to his throat. Ah, Lord, he felt like


hell.




"Looks like he's coming around, Josey. You'd best get on back home


before he starts growling and spewing. You're liable to get your


feelings hurt." Sheriff Tom Norton stared through the bars of the cell


while he addressed his wife of thirty years.




Josey Norton scurried away before Cole could get his eyes focused. It


took him a minute to realize where he was. He gritted his teeth as he


sat up on the narrow cot and swung his legs to the floor. His hands


gripped the mattress and his head dropped to his chest.




He studied the sheriff through bloodshot eyes. Norton was an older man


with weather-beaten skin, a potbelly, and melancholy eyes. He looked


like a harmless hound dog.




"Why am I in jail? " The question was issued in a sharp whisper.




The sheriff leaned against the bars, crossed one ankle over the other,


and smiled. "You broke the law, son."




"How? " "Disturbing the peace."




"What? " "No need to shout. I can see it pained you.




You've got a nice bump on the back of your head, and I don't suppose


yelling is gonna make you feel better. Don't you remember what


happened? " Cole shook his head and immediately regretted it. Pain


exploded behind his eyes.




"I remember being sick."




"Yes, you had the influenza. You were sick with fever for four days,


and my Josey nursed you back to health.




Today was your second day out of bed."




"When did I disturb the peace?




" "When you crossed the street, " he said cheerfully. "It was real


disturbing to me, the way you walked away while I was trying so hard to


convince you to stay in Middleton until the appointment came through.




I gave my word to someone real important that I would keep you here,


son, but you wouldn't cooperate."




"So you hit me over the head."




"Yes, I did, " he admitted. "I didn't see any other way. It wasn't


much of a hit though, just a little thump with the butt of my pistol on


the back of your head. No permanent damage was done, or you wouldn't


be sitting there growling at me.




Besides, I did you a favor." The sheriff's chipper voice was grating


on Cole's nerves. He glared at him and asked, "How do you figure


that?




" "There were two gunslingers waiting for you to get into the street.




Both of them were determined to make you drawţone at a time, of


course.




You were just getting over your sick spell, and even though you won't


admit it, I'd wager a week's pay you weren't well enough to take either


one of them on. The influenza hit you hard, son, and you're only just


now getting your color back. Yes sirree, I did you a favor."




"It's all coming back to me."




"Put it behind you, " he suggested." Cause it's water under the sink


now. The appointment came through, and we had us a nice ceremony right


here in the jail. It seemed kind of odd to file into your cell for a


big do, but the judge didn't mind and it worked out all right. Yes, it


did.




Too bad you had to sleep through the celebration, since you were the


honoree and all. My wife, Josey, made her special yellow cake with


sugar icing. She cut you a nice big piece and left it on the table


over there, " he added with a nod toward the opposite side of the


cell.




"You'd best eat it before the mice get to it.




Cole was becoming more frustrated by the second. Most of what the


sheriff was telling him didn't make any sense. "Answer my questions, "


he demanded. "You said that someone important wanted to keep me


here.




Who was it? " "Marshal Daniel Ryan, that's who. He should be along


any minute now to let you out."




"Ryan's here? That no-good, low-down, thievingţ" "Hold on now. There


ain't no need to carry on.




The marshal told me you've been bearing a grudge against him. He said


it had something to do with a compass and gold case he's been keeping


safe for you." Cole's head was rapidly clearing. "My mother was


bringing me the compass, and Ryan stole it from her. He doesn't have


any intention of giving it back. I'm going to have to take it from


him."




"I think you might be wrong about that, " Norton said with a chuckle.




It was futile to argue with him. Cole decided to save his wrath for


the man who was responsible for locking him up . . . Daniel Ryan. He


couldn't wait to get his hands on him.




"Are you going to let me out of here and give me my guns back? " "I'd


surely like to."




"But? " "But I can't, " the sheriff said. "Ryan's got the keys. I've


got to take some papers across town to the judge, so why don't you sit


tight and eat some cake? I shouldn't be gone long." The sheriff


turned to leave. "One more thing, " he drawled out.




"Congratulations, son. I'm sure you'll do your family proud."




"Wait!




" Cole called out. "Why are you congratulating me? " Norton didn't


answer him. He sauntered into the outer office, and a minute later


Cole heard the front door open and close. He shook his head in


confusion. He didn't know what the old man had been rambling on


about.




Why would he congratulate him?




He glanced around the stark cellţgray walls, gray bars, and gray


floor.




On a three-legged stand in the corner was a grayspeckled basin and a


water jug next to the piece of cake the sheriff's wife had left for


him. The only other adornment was the black spider crawling up the


painted stones of the wall. There was another one hanging from its web


in the barred windowsill high up by the ceiling.




Cole was over six feet tall, but in order to look out, he would have to


stand on a chair. There weren't any inside the cell. He could see a


fragment of the sky, though, and like his temporary home, it too was


gray.




The color fit his mood. He was in a no-win situation. He couldn't


very well shoot Norton, since his wife had nursed him back to health.




The sheriff had probably saved his life, as well, by knocking him out


before the gunslingers had challenged him. Cole remembered the


influenza had left him weak and shaky. He would have died in a


gunfight all right, but damn it all, did Norton have to hit him so


hard? His head still felt as if it had been split in two.




He reached up to rub the knot in the back of his neck, and his right


arm bumped against cold metal. He looked down, then froze when he


realized what he was staring at. A gold case dangled from a chain


someoneţRyan most likelyţhad clipped to the pocket of his leather


vest.




The son of a bitch had finally given him his treasure back. He gently