“It’s not going to be like it was before, Michael,” William
“It’s not going to be like it was before, Michael,” William told him as he moved their luggage to the next stagecoach. “John’s gotten it together now, he’s real responsible. No more drinkin’ and gamblin’.”
As long as the trip was, Michael hoped his younger brother was right. Though it could be accomplished in a day, pushing horses hard and praying they wouldn’t spook from some dratted roadrunner clogging up the scenery, ultimately, the trip to Flintwood from Tucson was easier broken apart – it w...

The Lacey brothers had made
The Lacey brothers had made their way back to the stables, and the things they’d left behind. Though they’d been silent the short way, it was John that first broke the tension.
“Rather an impressive greeting, Michael.” John rubbed his jaw, raising an eyebrow to him. “Are you boxing in the underground, then?”
Michael couldn’t help a laugh. “It’s always been a hit-able jaw, John. You just happened to finally give me a good reason to hit it.”
The frustration having finally dissipated, William final...

The cart and its cargo of the three Lacey brothers
The cart and its cargo of the three Lacey brothers rumbled eastwards along the parched track towards the eldest — John’s — house, its single horse labouring in the heat of the day. Suddenly, a large jackrabbit broke cover, diving across their route into the bushes and startling the gelding, which lurched sideways, causing the cart’s wheel to run against a rock at the side of the road. A sickening crunch suggested some sort of damage had occurred. The younger brothers jumped down while John strug...

Carlton Whitmore hated his job at Wells Fargo. He hated
Carlton Whitmore hated his job at Wells Fargo. He hated it since his father had forced him to take a job as a clerk's apprentice some ten years ago and he had never quit hating it. If possible, his hatred had only become even more prominent, when the bank had sent him to this godforsaken town. Boy, how he missed Charleston, and the parties and the ladies! The only way to make his whole sorry excuse of a life a little more agreeable was the booze, which was served freely in the Red Boot Saloon - ...

Bob Wilson was close to dozing
Bob Wilson was close to dozing off. The day was too darn hot and last night had been too short (by courtesy of a certain little lady in the Red Boot). The only thing that preventing him from taking a short nap was a pertinacious fly that kept attacking Bob's sweaty bare skin.
"Go, find yourself some cattle to bug, you dirty little vermin", growled Bob, "Or even better yet: Go away and die!"
Once more Bob slapped the back of his neck, when the fly sat down to feast on his body juices. This time ...

Ben Wright's first impulse
Ben Wright's first impulse was to go to Mayor Bird's house. On second thought he decided that this sure wasn't necessary. On a hot afternoon like this, the Mayor and his sons would be at the Red Boot for a cold drink.
Ben hurried down the street to the Saloon and pushed the swing doors open unceremoniously.
Faces turned, and it was only a matter of seconds till everyone had quieted down. The Marshal visiting the saloon during the afternoon, and furthermore with a face grave like stone, could on...

It took the four men about
It took the four men about half an hour, before they first saw the rickety cart in the distance.
Shortly after they had left town and arrived at the site of the robbery, they had found a dead body on the ground right next to the abandoned stagecoach. It was the second Wells Fargo man, who had been left behind by Carlton to guard coach and horse. The latter, Ben noticed with little surprise, was gone. Obviously, the Laceys were cold-blooded enough to return and take the second horse - unless, of...

"Good morning, sweetheart", said Ben,
"Good morning, sweetheart", said Ben, when William finally opened his eyes.
The young man looked disoriented for a second, but then seemed to recognise the bars and the man sitting on the other side of them.
"Dammit", he growled.
"That's right", Ben agreed, "We might not have gotten all of you, but one brother is a good start."
An impressively wicked grin spread on William Lacey's face, "Let me tell you something, old man: You never will. John and Michael will be here in no time to get me out - ...

Lewis Roche was not fond of the repetitive drumming
Lewis Roche was not fond of the repetitive drumming of fingers on a desk. He stood in the doorframe that separated his room from the rest of the bank, staring balefully at the teller whose fingertips were moving at a great speed, producing a constant rumble. Lewis cleared his throat, trying to alert the young man to his annoyance, but the drumming continued without pause. It was a dry day, no rain or mist to speak of, and the shuttered and stifling Flintwood Wells Fargo bank was forcing Lewis to...

Mayor Henry Bird sat in the chair
Mayor Henry Bird sat in the chair at his desk, staring idly out the window at the street, where a child was kicking a rock back and forth while her mother watched her from the porch of their house. The stone was not a large one, but it was big enough for the girl to be entertained. Bird had always been rather fond of the metaphorical, and chose to believe that the stone was representative of this little town that he had guided from its infancy (not too big and not too small, taking a bruising bu...

In the still air of the Marshal’s
In the still air of the Marshal’s office, Deputies Murphy and Bell talked quietly, laughing every so often, their tone congratulatory. Deputy Bob Wilson sat with his feet up on his desk, staring into the darkened eyes of the man behind the bars of the cell across from him.
“Is it just me, or does he look like he’s plotting something?” Wilson asked without looking at the other two, who glanced from their conversation to look at the prisoner.
“Maybe I am,” William Lacey said quietly.
“What do you ...

Flintwood was taking a long time to die
Flintwood was taking a long time to die.
Ben didn’t like the dying, but didn’t mind the slowness. He liked the town, he had liked it from the first time he set foot in the Red Boot Saloon. He liked it even more when it gave him a place to stay, a home, and a job: deputy at first, marshal now. It was a good town with good people, no matter what people were saying now.
Some days, this was true, he liked it better than others.
It was almost night and Kate was acting up, all tired and ornery from ...

William Lacey sat on his cell bunk, watching the rat
William Lacey sat on his cell bunk, watching the rat.
It had been making its way steadily across the other side of the Marshal’s Office, following the scent of something tasty, no doubt.
Out of the corner of his other eye, Lacey could see the old spotted tabby cat gingerly lift itself off its haunches and assume what Lacey could only imagine was once a striking stance.
Give it up, Lacey thought, that ol’ rat is faster than you’ll ever be.
True enough, Lacey watched as the cat tried to pounce...

Catherine was just coming ou
Catherine was just coming out of the post office with a package from her brother back east when she heard the commotion building down the street. She turned to see the three Lacey brothers on their horses, all galloping at full speed out of the yard by the jail. Just then, the manager of the Wells Fargo stepped out from the doorway. Seeing the boys he ducked back inside and grabbed his Marlin rifle. As the boys approached, he raised it and took a bead on William. Michael saw this and pulled hard...

Fred had never seen the marshal this upset. Ben was
Fred had never seen the Marshal this upset. Ben was storming around the office, gathering supplies and barking out orders. More than once he burst out, “I’ll be damned if those bastards are going to get away with this!” “Shooting a deputy in the very confines of the jailhouse? No. Not in my town!”
True, George’s injury could be seen as a blow to the Marshal’s office, and George himself was looking a bit pale, but Fred guessed that it was Catherine’s fall that had unhinged Marshal Ben. Years befo...

The Red Boot Saloon had been
The Red Boot Saloon had been built at the height of the Tucker Mine’s success, and if copper was the blood of the town, the Red Boot was its heart. Her balustrades wore copper bonnets, as did her bedposts and chairs. The bar itself wore a skirt of hammered copper. The constant application of patron’s sleeves kept the stool-side edge of the bar gleaming, and the Boot’s bartenders kept the rest polished to match.
If you wanted to find someone in Flintwood, you started with the Red Boot: chances we...

As the four men approached
As the four men approached the jailhouse, Bob came running after them, tucking his shirt in hastily. He was out of breath, despite the short distance between the two buildings. Fred guessed he had heard the commotion downstairs and pulled out just in time to sprint down the stairs after them. He was grinning ear to ear.
“Sorry I’m late, boys!” said Bob jocularly as he came to a stop behind the procession. Still grinning, he drew the Twins and pointed the pistols directly at Cole and Frank. “Cole...

“Marshal
“Marshal…?”
“It’s Ben.”
“No sir, it’s Marshal. I’ve been around long ‘nough t’ know that showin’ r’spect all the time makes sure r’spect is what evr’one sees all the time.”
“I get that, but…”
“No sir, no buts. Marshal it is and Marshal it’ll be ‘till I’m not yur dep’ty.”
“What’ll I call you?”
“Well sir, as I see it, yur right to call me anything yus want. I’m contented with dep’ty, ur George ur Bell ur …” For the first time since they left Fleetwood Deputy George Bell stopped to consider his wor...

Kate stopped short.
Kate stopped short. Ben trusted Kate more than any man.
“Deputy, keep sharp.”
It was unnecessary. George already had his Colt out and at the ready. Years of experience had taught them both that a heading your horse would save your life. Ben had placed his Wells Fargo coach gun across the saddle horn. If it was a rattle snake then he was ready. If it was a man he would present an intimidating front. With Bell and that Colt as backup he did not need to affect the confidence clearly seen in his fac...

Kate stopped short. Didn’t
Kate stopped short. Didn’t the Lacy boys have a place east of town?”
“Yup. Another reason I thought east was the direction to head. Joe reliable?”
“I’d take his word over most white men. Never given me a reason to to feel otherwise.”
“What’s the problem then?”
“Well, if I had a place to the east that I knew was secure, why would I run west?”
“Because you have a place you think is more secure.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. They have an extra man and we don’t now what for guns and fortification.”
B...

Ben and George looked down
Ben and George looked down on the cabin from the top of the ridge. Just as Joe had said, the cabin was built in a shallow box canyon. The back wall of the cabin was the canyon wall. There was only one door. No windows. The mouth of the canyon was narrow enough that two men could prevent anything from escaping the canyon.
“Lacey! This is Marshal Wright. We’ve got the canyon blocked. Come on out!”
“Dang it! Was it the horses?”
“Nope. Fire.”
Three men exited the cabin. Gun belts held over head. As...

As Deputies Bell, Murphy
As Deputies Bell, Murphy and Wilson put the Laceys into a cell, Marshal Wright sat at his desk to look at a few papers that had not been there before he left. Bills from the general store for ammo and other supplies, a few meals from Red Boot Saloon, and one from the farrier for Kate’s new shoes. With the demise of the copper mine he knew that he needed to be careful with expenses. He had to pay these debts in cash or his scrip would be no good when he needed it most. “Damn one these one trick t...

“Ben, What you got fur us nixt?”
“Ben, What you got fur us nixt?” Fred Murphy was always the leader of the group. Ben was painfully aware that Fred felt he was supposed to be the Marshal. Luckily, Ben and Fred worked that out before the election. Fred was here for his wife and daughter. “A place they can be proud to call home,” was his answer to Ben’s question of “Why are you doin’ this job?” That’s when Ben realised he needed to keep Fred on his side.
Ben looked at the men as they filed in to stand in front of him. A family ma...

As the Bob and George filed out
As the Bob and George filed out of the building Ben was thinking what to do with all the trouble locked up in the cells. He had an idea, but it was critical that Fred agreed to it.
“Fred, I have a problem. I don’t think you will like the solution, but I need you on my team.”
“Sounds om’nous. How bad is this idea of yours?”
“Pretty bad. I’m sure you won’t like it. I’ve been thinking. When I go back there in a few minutes, Charlie, Cole and Frank are going to be… obst’nate. ‘What’d we do?’ It’s a ...

Marshal Wright had already stepped out of the door
Marshal Wright had already stepped out of the door of his office onto Fremont Avenue when he saw Sam Caldwell riding towards him, too late to go back inside and look busy, he shrugs and leans back against the door frame and waits for him, he already guessed at what Sam wants to talk about. Marshal had his own thoughts on that but he would give the lad a chance to prove himself.
Sam made quite an impression sitting on the brown mare, considering his height, somehow in his buckskins and with his w...

“Come on Frankie boy, get a move on!” Charlie swayed
“Come on Frankie boy, get a move on!” Charlie swayed in the saddle as his mare pranced her two front feet in the dust outside Frank Brown’s front door. His horse exchanged mutual glances with the young colt already saddled and tethered there. It had been a short ride from Charlie’s house, but she’d been having a happy time in the barn eating her hay and hadn’t taken kindly to being suddenly disturbed, saddled up and ridden out into the sweltering sunlight.
Charlie could smell coffee and heard m...

“Must go to the bank in a bit
“Must go to the bank in a bit, Bethie!” Steve Mason called to his wife, as he heaved the last barrel of flour off the back of the wagon and expertly rolled it into the storeroom. “Can you watch the front of the store?”
“I sure will, honey” his pretty young wife replied, coming into the counter area from the kitchen behind. She was holding their ginger cat, who was purring contentedly. Steve went to the front door and turned the sign from Closed to Open.
“I’m a lucky man!” he said, smiling at her...

Hanging is a terrible way to kill a man. When you hang
Hanging is a terrible way to kill a man. When you hang a man, he jerks and sways and kicks like a dancing puppet. He fouls himself, but his manhood swells like he wants a woman. On all sides, there's a crowd watching, jeering, crying. It takes a long time to die and most of the crowd leave before the end. There's no dignity in a hanging. It's a lousy way to kill a man. It's not a great way to die, either.
Sam Campbell had seen a hanging, once, of a horse thief. He wondered now what had driven th...

John Lacey was hunched over a gut-burner of a whiskey
John Lacey was hunched over a gut-burner of a whiskey at a table near enough the doors that he flinched as they swung open; a storm of dust, heat and cattle stench almost as painful on the other senses as the light was on his eyes. When at last his pupils were able to dilate again, he saw that it was his youngest brother that had exploded into the saloon, all afret about something.
William scraped back a chair and folded his wiry frame down into it, all sharp angles and nervous energy. He looked...

“So, what do you think?”
“So, what do you think?” Frank feigned tending a horse hitched on Fourth Street as John and Charlie, next to him, snatched glances up and down the bustling road. A wagon rolled by, a preacher shouting salvation at them. They ignored him. The men William had seen hadn’t been hard to spot: Frank knew nearly everyone in town from working the bar, but even if he hadn’t, these men would have stuck out like a snake on stilts. There were four of them, all at different positions on the street, occasiona...

Much could be said about Cole Vaughan
Much could be said about Cole Vaughan, and not much of it complimentary. One thing that you couldn’t say about Vaughan, however, was that he was ever unprepared for a fight. Moments after the bank door clicked shut, Cole, Michael and William rode up, a veritable artillery swinging from Cole’s saddle.
“So where are they?” Cole demanded as they jumped from their horses. “These unsavoury lurkers of William’s?”
Someone inside the bank screamed.
Frank nodded towards the bank.
Cole squinted in its dir...

John and the others crept
John and the others crept towards the door and sidled up on either side of it. He chanced a glance in and saw that Angora-chops was standing with his back to the gate to the director’s office, with the other three dotted around the lobby. Angora-chops seemed to be directing things, while the blond man with the scar pointed his shotgun at a teller. The other two, one rotund and balding, the other tall, broad and whelky-eyed, had their guns trained on the customers and staff, all except for the te...

No one could quite tell who exactly
No one could quite tell who exactly started the shooting, but it soon transpired that all eight men were terrible shots. After sixty seconds of the air zinging with bullets, the ceiling, walls, windows and counter were the only casualties. At the end of that first frenetic minute, John and his men were crouched behind the teller’s counter on the Fourth Street side, while Angora-chops and his men were hunkered down on the Tucker Avenue side. The customers had managed to flee and could be heard o...

Not long afterwards, as the
Not long afterwards, as the people of Tucker Avenue regained their composure and those at the bank began the task of cleaning up, the doors of the Red Boot swung open to a buoyant Marshal Wright. His moustache traced the smile that split his face, grooves in leathery skin running from eye to ear. He raised a jubilant hand as he recognised Bob Wilson, who was perched on a bar stool near where Lucy leaned languorously against the newel at the bottom of the stairs. Bob tore his eyes away from the d...

Marshal Wright wasn’t the only
Marshal Wright wasn’t the only interested observer of the happenings at the First National Bank that afternoon. As the sun began its descent in earnest, blood-streaks of cloud across the blue bowl of sky, Jimmy Jackson and Seth Madsen dismounted from their horses atop an outcrop where Flintwood turned back into scrub. They had stopped to watch the Laceys below, whom they had followed out of town and who were still jeering at the retreating gang — Jackson and Marshal’s retreating gang.
“Some deal...

The horses were the first giveaway. The horses were
The horses were the first giveaway. The horses were out of sight, hidden behind dense brush. But the Lacey Gang’s horses must have been able to smell Jimmy and Seth’s mounts and whinnied to them. Jimmy and Seth dismounted and covered their horses’ noses so they could not call back and give them away.
Jimmy spotted a small red dot of flame, and that cigarette revealed the hideout to James Jackson and Seth Madsen. The two picketed their horses, removed their spurs, and quietly approached on foot....

It took Jimmy’s eyes a moment
It took Jimmy’s eyes a moment to adjust to the light in the cave. There were candles burning on a crate table.
Seth threw William Lacey on the rocky cave floor. William woke up, he reached for his head. “Dad-blame it, I feel like my head is about to split!”
William’s complaint got the gang’s attention. They jumped to their feet, reaching for weapons but Jimmy had his gun pointed at William, and Seth had his two Colt Dragoons pointed at the men.
“Drop ‘em and put your hands up.” Jimmy said. “I’...

While the bushwhackers split up the
While the bushwhackers split up the money, John and Michael checked on their brother.
“What did they do?” John asked.
“I think they hit me over the head with something. Knocked me out cold.” William said.
“You have a lump.” Michael said. “Good thing your skull is so thick.”
“I was wearing a hat too.” William mumbled. “They got the drop on me. I didn’t think anyone could find us here. Are those two really taking over?”
“Looks like it.” John said. “But we might still have an ace in the hole.”...

Seth shoved his pistols into thei
Seth shoved his pistols into their holsters and moved over to the table and shoved most of the money into two large piles. The remaining money he put in six tiny piles.
“No.” Charlie Evans objected. “You two can’t just come in here and take over, take our money. We’re the ones who have been doing all the work. I’ll be damned if some bushwhacker takes my cut.”
Charlie planted his hands on Seth’s chest and gave him a shove. Seth knocked into the table so hard one of the crate boards cracked, but...

The Lacey Gang moved away from Jimmy
The Lacey Gang moved away from Jimmy and Evans, but were aware of the risk of ricochet and looked at the rock of the cave anxiously.
“This aint fair.” Frank complained. “Charlie isn’t half sober.”
“He should have kept his mouth shut.” Jimmy said. “If you think you can do better you’re welcome to pick the gun up from Evan’s cold hands and go next. The same goes for all of you.”
Evans reluctantly picked up the gun. He checked to make sure it was loaded and spun the cylinder, gave the barrel a q...

Michael crept quietly, the sound of the dry ground
Michael crept quietly, the sound of the dry ground breaking under his boots. The light of the moon above him is the only way he can see where he is going. There aren’t many places to hide, except a few Saguaro cacti, not that they would offer him any shelter, and it would only take someone peering out the window at the right time. Getting caught would surely mean death for him. They killed Charlie. Who is to say they wouldn’t kill him. Even if he is a Lacey and he has his doubts his brothers wou...

“What is it, Sam?” Ben asked wh
“What is it, Sam?” Ben asked when he pulled the door open, setting the shotgun down.
“Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but Michael Lacey would like a word with you.”
That didn’t surprise him. He figured one of the Lacey brothers would come to him eventually to discuss Charlie Evan’s death. He’s not happy about the developments there and he has a pretty good idea he’s not going to like how this will turn out. Jimmy Jackson and Seth Madsen are trouble. Big trouble based on what he’s learned from the fe...

It’d been a couple of days and Sam was itching for
It’d been a couple of days and Sam was itching for action. He was still getting used the feeling of a gun against his leg — he’d wanted a Remington, but old Ben Wright had said the one in the cabinet was too expensive. So he’d opted for a Smith & Wesson, just like the two that Bob Wilson carried. Bob had helped him clean it up and shown him how to reload it efficiently. He wanted to use it, but wished he had more time to practice. He’d shown it to the bar maid Maria last night and she seemed imp...

Sam could feel the eyes
Sam could feel the eyes of Marshal Benjamin Wright staring at him and suddenly understood why he’d been elected Marshal unopposed. Ben Wright was usually a friendly and approachable man, kind to animals and women, but when he looked at you like that there was a hardness, a sense that he would act harshly if he judged against you.
It was Fred Murphy who spoke next, “They were both there? You’re sure?”
Sam turned to Fred to answer, “Yes sir. Both of them. And Sally said they were bragging they we...

Sam was crouching by the
Sam was crouching by the gambling table in the Red Boot. His instructions were to guard the exits while Ben and Fred went upstairs. He knew it was because he didn’t have enough experience, that both Fred and Ben were better shots and were less likely to get themselves killed. For once, he didn’t mind.
He looked around the empty bar. Sally took flight as soon as she saw them, pausing only long enough to nod at Anna’s room upstairs, and shrug when they pointed at Lucy’s room. The barman wasn’t in...

Sam looked away from Maria
Sam looked away from Maria and saw Ben and Fred launching themselves towards Anna’s door. Suicide mission if whoever on the other side was armed. But Sam had his instructions. As he turned back towards the window by the gaming table he saw a figure drop down off the verandah roof and run north towards Second Street. Sam ran through the door and onto the verandah, remembering as he jumped to the street that he chasing an armed killer. He ran to the water pump opposite the Mayor’s office and ducke...

“So you lost Seth…”
“So you lost Seth…”
“Yes. But I tracked Jimmy. He’s in the old barn on Gila Avenue. I saw him try to close the door, then just leave it. He’s in there. And he won’t want to come out straight away in case we’re wandering the streets looking for him. We’ve got him Marshal!”
Ben looked at Fred, “Do you want to explain it to him?”
Fred turned to Sam, “I know that barn, those doors haven’t closed for years. But what do you think will happen to the first person that walks through those doors? They’ll ...

As soon as they reached Fremont
As soon as they reached Fremont Avenue, Sam could see that the door to the Jail was wide open and swinging gently. The three of them, guns drawn, approached slowly, eyes scanning all of the buildings around them.
“Bob? You OK?”
No answer.
They reached the door.
“Bob? What happened?”
No response.
Ben nodded, once, to Fred then shifted his gaze back to the street. “Eyes up Sam, they could be anywhere.”
Fred stepped inside.
“Ahh, shit.”
Ben turned to Sam, “OK kid, this is probably a bad idea, but ...

“And, if I could shoot the dogs in this hellhole too
“And, if I could shoot the dogs in this hellhole too!” Marshal Wright slammed his fist against the solid but rotten front door to the jail. “Don’t see the point in owning a mutt anyway, their only another mouth to feed,” he said, pulling the cork out that allowed him to see through the peephole into the street outside. The smell of his fallen deputy had prompted him to reach into his pocket and retrieve the handkerchief he’d stolen from Catherine’s washing line earlier that afternoon. She wouldn...

Marshal Wright thumped the heavy wooden door with his
Marshal Wright thumped the heavy wooden door with his fist. He paused, and when no response was forthcoming, he pushed the door open and strode into the Mayor’s office anyway. He didn’t have any time to waste waiting around.
Mayor Bird was seated behind his fine desk, in his fine suit, signing some paperwork with his fine fountain pen. Wright didn’t have time for fine things. The Mayor’s office always made him feel ill at ease. With his dusty, well-worn clothes and scuffed boots, he was like a ...

Marshal Wright walked slowly
Marshal Wright walked slowly through the streets, keeping his hand on his shotgun. He would’ve felt better riding Kate – and with his Spencer – but riding a horse in town made him too much of a target.
He kept his eyes open, and tried to keep track of everything around him. A part of him nearly wanted Jackson, Madsen, or one of their cronies to show up. He wouldn’t say no to an excuse to kill any one of them. Although, if it came down to a straight gunfight in the street Jackson would probably ...

Mayor Bird strolled down
Mayor Bird strolled down the street, hands in his pockets. Recent rain had left the usually dusty streets muddy. The muck coated his shoes, and dirtied the hems of his trousers as he went. It was probably stupid of him to be walking around alone – hell he knew it was stupid. He wanted to tell himself that he was out because he needed to be seen. He was Mayor. It was his job to show the people that he was not afraid, so they shouldn’t be either. Fear would kill this town. Fear was killing this to...

Marshal Wright knocked on
Marshal Wright knocked on the Mayor’s office door.
“Come in.”
The Mayor looked better today. He was holding himself a bit straighter, and some of the tiredness seemed to be gone from his face. He gave a small smile when he saw the Marshal. Wright himself must’ve looked like shit after sleeping on the floor in his uniform. He certainly didn’t feel his best, but seeing the Mayor’s changed countenance gave him hope. Maybe it meant there was good news.
“Good morning, Marshal.” So he definitely wasn...

Laying his right hand on the grip of his holstered
Laying his right hand on the grip of his holstered shotgun, Marshal Wright squinted through the brightness at the dusty thoroughfare. Only a handful of townsfolk made their way along sheltered boardwalks on the other side of the street. All of them turned their heads in curiosity to see the blasted bricks of the jailhouse behind him, mortar chips still lying on the boards in front of the heavy iron door.
Ben saw their expressions. At once, he saw sorrow and anger. They screamed at him with their...

On the east side of the Gila
On the east side of the Gila River, George Bell had purchased a large parcel of land as part of the speculation boom back in 1861. He had land in other parts of Arizona and New Mexico, relics of his stints as lawman in numerous towns over the last two decades. For five dollars an acre, the deal seemed exceptional before the War, before the copper mines dried up the first time.
George was no fool. No matter what anybody said about new discoveries or a breakthrough at the existing mines, it all p...

Crossing the Gila, Ben saw
Crossing the Gila, Ben saw little hope. He began to believe this would be his last day alive, expecting the gang to ambush him in the night. How they would do this, how they would break into the jail to get him, he could not say. He rolled the various scenarios over and over in his mind.
I've got to talk to Caldwell, he thought.
Sam's makeshift shack constructed out of leftover materials that would have been part of a new emporium of clothing and ladies' fineries was unprotected, inasmuch as a ...

The wrap at the door had a familiar rhythm
The wrap at the door had a familiar rhythm, but Catherine didn't take any chances. Without conscious thought, she reached for the double-barreled shotgun left by her father and stood back from the door.
"Who is it?" she shouted.
"It's me."
Catherine lowered the gun, and breathed easier. She jerked the gun back up to the ready position. "Who's with you?"
"Just me. I'm hungry."
To be sure, Catherine lifted the curtains with the muzzle of the gun. Ben stood at the door, bobbing up and down on his t...

Harley moaned as he heard
Harley moaned as he heard the iron door screech open. He knew it could only be the Marshal, since there were no other law officers around.
"Is that you, Ben?"
The heavy plodding of boots on the plank floor grew louder. Harley rolled over on his lumpy straw mattress.
"Here you are, you old codger," said Ben, sliding the tin with three remaining biscuits under the bars into Harley's cell. He walked away.
Harley slid onto the floor and picked up the tin, opening the lid.
From his desk, where he ha...

Ben quietly stepped up to the side of a window on the
Ben quietly stepped up to the side of a window on the eastern side of the abandoned Wells Fargo building, his finger resting lightly on the trigger of his shotgun. He glanced across the wall of the building, the darkness of the night making it difficult to see if Sam had made it around the corner of the other side. The moonlight helped by glinting off Sam’s badge.
They were almost ready.
Just stick with the plan, Ben thought, willing Sam to do just that. This should be easy pickings.
Deep down,...

Vaughn watched from the
Vaughn watched from the edge of the post office on the opposite corner of 4th Avenue as that goddamned kid Caldwell slid his spineless back along the back wall of the abandoned bank where Jimmy and Seth were holed up. He’d be worried for his two leaders were it not for a simple fact that kept his head up.
Everyone knew the Marshal was coming. This time, he couldn’t get away.
Vaughn quietly walked back to the rest of the gang, assembled by the front door of the post office. With the other deputie...

Ben had an uneasy feeling tha
Ben had an uneasy feeling that they were being watched. The burr that stuck in his craw grew more itchy, but what could he do?
A simple plan, he thought, that might be just too simple,
It was now or never. He called Sam over to him with a gesture of his hand. He didn’t want any surprises, so he decided to make the plan even simpler. Instead of taking opposite sides of the building, they would both enter through what looked like a broken-open door on the north side of the building, guns up and f...

Ben stopped hearing bullets
Ben stopped hearing bullets and didn’t sense anyone’s presence behind him. He stopped at the hitching post, about two blocks away, and turned around, ducking behind the hub. He held his shotgun close. He wished he had the Spencer with him, but this would have to do if the men came after him right now. There was no way to get back to the Marshal’s Office without being detected, so he just sat here, watching back to the building, seeing the boys surrounding Sam in front of the bank. Even from this...

The clapboard siding of the Marshal’s Office splintered
The clapboard siding of the Marshal’s Office splintered one last time as a final bullet spat out by the gang’s retreat tore into it.
Wright raised the Spencer repeater back to his shoulder and took aim. “Dammit.” He could barely make out silhouettes in the dim light. Never mind the notion of missing—he might just as well hit Caldwell as one them bastards and he was plumb short of deputies at the moment.
He watched the gang retreat further into the darkness, the drumming hoof beats of their hors...

Half an hour later, the steady, s
Half an hour later, the steady, still-distant, sound of horses’ hooves stopped. Wright reined in Kate and listened. The breeze brought a hint of voices punctuated by bursts of raucous laughter. Have they stopped? They’re still well shy of the mines. The Marshal dismounted. They had closed the gap to four to five hundred yards, close enough to hear, yet far enough away to not be seen. From this point on it was all about stealth. This wasn’t the best country for sneaking around—unless you were Ind...

Clearing the hills,
Clearing the hills, Wright spurred the mare to a modest gallop back toward Flintwood. Jackson and Madsen probably wouldn’t bother chasing him tonight, even though he’d deprived them of their morbid fun. Poor Caldwell. At least he didn’t leave a wife and children that would need looking after. Mayhap I should ride straight on to Tuscon and let his parents and that sister of his know directly. Maybe even stay a while. Might be a blessing, in Bird’s eyes, to be rid of me.

Someone was at the bottom of this
Someone was at the bottom of this.
What were Seth’s words? “Ask the Mayor.”
If the gummy sludge at the bottom of this turned out to be Bird, Wright would do a little more than ‘asking’.
The road between Flintwood and the Wells Fargo had all but disappeared.
No footprints, no wheel tracks, no hoof dimples except the lone set trailing behind him. Wasn’t much use keeping up the trail to a bank that belonged to a town whose people had nothing to put in it.
But the Marshal could find his way back to ...

"Pour me a clean glass of your most splendid Rotgut
"Pour me a clean glass of your most splendid Rotgut please Andrew!" Ben gestured towards the wall of dusty imported spirits as if he were bowing enthusiastically before royalty. The colourful bottles had been brought in by the owner to make the place look more continental, and to be fair it had given the place an air of the cosmopolitan. The project's success was confirmed by the derision and suspicion it inspired in the locals. Andrew sucked a shard of tobacco out from between his teeth. 
"You ...

The stagecoach pitched and swayed along the dusty trail
The stagecoach pitched and swayed along the dusty trail winding its way through the clumps of saguaros and prickly pears. It gave a big lurch, nearly tipping over as it descended into yet another dried-up watercourse. The driver cracked his whip and shouted to encourage the tired horses up the slope on the other side. A cloud of dust, thrown up as the coach entered the watercourse, blew into the coach.
“How much longer are we going to be stuck in this goldarn dust-bucket?” Michael said, trying i...

The Red Boot Saloon was quite busy
The Red Boot Saloon was quite busy. It usually was when a stage was due to arrive.
In the gambling corner, Slim Jefferson was sitting with “Flinty” Stone, who worked for him on his claim, and Jake Roberts, a drifter who picked up odd jobs and gambled away whatever he earned. Slim wasn’t making anything much these days, just enough to keep him going, supplemented by occasional winnings from the gambling, and to pay Flinty his pittance.
Lucy was sitting at a table near the door in the other part o...

The coach rumbled into town
The coach rumbled into town along Fremont Avenue, past the Mayor’s office, past the Red Boot Saloon, past the Marshal’s office and rolled to a stop in front of the Wells Fargo Bank.
William looked at the offices as they passed. The buildings looked unprepossessing and run down. He was tired, dusty, thirsty and in no good mood. John had talked of prosperity, but this didn’t seem anything like that.
Michael, looking the other way had observed the Red Boot Saloon without much enthusiasm and then sa...

When the three entered the
When the three entered the Red Boot, the atmosphere had changed. Anna was now sitting with Lucy, deep in some kind of conversation, and Red Morgan had joined the gamblers at their table.
At the bar, John ordered shots of whiskey and beers for the three of them. He turned round towards the gamblers at the table.
“Hi, Slim, can I introduce my brothers? This is Michael and that is William.”
“Michael and William, welcome. These here are Flinty Stone, and Jake Roberts, and that is Red Morgan, who has...

They picked up their bags and
They picked up their bags and followed John round the corner into Third Street, where they found a dilapidated cart with a broken-down nag lolling between the shafts. Its head drooped disconsolately. The cart had no springs, its wheels looked as if they would come off at any moment, and many of the boards were rotten and crumbling.
“Here we are,” said John and climbed up on the bench. Without a word, Michael and William tossed their bags in the back and climbed on board.
John went up Third Stree...

The wheels of the cart bounced continuously, shaking
The wheels of the cart bounced continuously, shaking and jerking the occupants mercilessly. Michael shifted his weight on the unsanded wooden seat for the tenth time since they’d started out to John’s house.
“Stop moving!” William snapped. He pulled a pinch of snuff out of his pocket and shoved it into his cheek. He was as uncomfortable and his temper was already bubbling under the surface. The hot afternoon sun beat down on his back and sweat dripped onto his shirt collar.
“Why don’t you make...

“Hey there, stop!” John
“Hey there, stop!” John scrambled to his feet next to the ‘broken’ cart and waved down the passing stagecoach. Next to him, William and Michael stood up and stopped pretending to reattach the back wheel to the cart’s axle.
The driver of the stagecoach reined in the four brown horses and let John approach. “What happened here boys?”
“The wheel came off its axle about an hour ago.” John waved at the wheel and ran his sleeve across his brow. “We’ve been waiting for someone to come across us.” He n...

Back at the stagecoach,
Back at the stagecoach, the two men watched as the Lacey brothers left with their cargo. The heat of the ground bit deep into their feet. They threw open the stagecoach door and sat inside.  With two horses left and all the cargo gone, they sat there thinking about what to do next.
“We need the marshal.” The driver ran a hand across his forehead and walked over to the horses they had left. He unharnessed one from the stagecoach and climb on.
“What about me?” The other man asked as jumped out t...

His heels dug into the horse’s sides as he leaned forward
His heels dug into the horse’s sides as he leaned forward, his thick glove gripping the harness. He yelled commands, urging the animal to go faster. He could feel the horse’s muscles working as they raced toward town. He knew that he was pushing the poor beast hard, but he would reward him once they had gotten the situation under control. Dust and pieces of gravel sprayed around them creating a moving cloud that filled his nostrils as they sped into town. The sooner they got help, the better ch...

“Whoa there
“Whoa there!”
The stagecoach driver yanked on the reins, pulling up hard the sweaty dirt-caked horses in front of Wells Fargo Bank on Fremont Avenue. The horses shuddered and stopped, flanks heaving and dripping. They dreamt of soft hay, oats, and water.
Charley, Wells Fargo’s man, jumped off the coach, barely waiting for it to stop. He hit the ground running, racing around the corner to 4th Street and the bank entrance. Before he reached the door, it opened. No time for water or a chair. He ...

It was 10:00 AM and Mayor
It was 10:00 AM and Mayor Henry Bird was already tired.
The mayor closed the back door to his office, careful not to make a sound. Charley had been a good investment, a back door as it were to what was going on at Wells Fargo. The bank director was a tight ass, a by-the-book-man. He didn’t like the mayor and the mayor didn’t like him. But Charley was a different story. As dumb as he appeared, Charley knew opportunity when it came knocking.
The mayor’s day hadn’t started out well, even before...

Marshal Wright sat at his desk,
Marshal Wright sat at his desk, filing a report. He hated paperwork but it was part of the job and he loved the job. Sounds of chairs scraping on the rough wood floor, laughing, and the prisoner’s cackling nonsense – Billy Lacey was daft after all -- seeped under the closed office door. Ben wasn’t worried. The boys – as he called his deputies – had it all under control. They had Billy and it was just a matter of time before they had his two brothers. That would be a great day for Flintwood, and ...

Things had started to get interesting around here. In
Things had started to get interesting around here. In law enforcement, interesting was the last thing you wanted. The Marshal pushed open the doors to the Red Boot saloon, grateful that he could count on a nice boring evening with a bit of whiskey to help him unwind. He walked to the far side of the bar, as far away from the gamblers as he could get, and dropped down into his usual spot. From her he could keep his back to the wall while keeping an eye on the door and of course, the gamblers.
He ...

“Will was always the one getting caught, always the
“Will was always the one getting caught, always the one running to mamma afterwards!” Michael moaned in a hushed voice.
John Lacey and his brother were both crouched, obscured from view, opposite Wells Fargo Bank on Fremont Avenue. Why hadn’t they opted for the bank rather than a Wells Fargo stagecoach that had rewarded them with next to nothing? They’d have been cash aplenty in the bank, and gold too. It was probably because Marshal Benjamin Wright’s office was only a stone’s throw away across...

If John and Michael looke
If John and Michael looked like they’d been having a bad day, William took it up a couple of notches. Deputy Robert Wilson wasn’t against using one of his Smith & Wesson revolvers for more than shooting. The handgun had been turned and used in an unfriendly manner on more than one occasion, leaving William with a closing eye and a weeping lesion above his hairline. Ben had insisted that he be treated, and had mildly admonished Bob, but William was still in a sorry state. He was slumped over, but...

John and Michael Lacey were now
John and Michael Lacey were now in plain sight. Colt revolvers in hand as they crossed Fremont Avenue heading towards the jailhouse. Their forlorn look but moments earlier had been transformed as they’d raised from their haunches revealing their impressive full stature. Neither man had the Neanderthal shape of the well muscled deputy Bob Wilson, who was adorned with the odd bodily scar here and there to add to the stereotype (which he now naturally liked to reciprocate when at all possible), but...

At first John struggled to locate
At first John struggled to locate the cell keys in Ben’s office, but a finger lightly applied to George’s arm delivered the appropriate response. George couldn’t believe what a shit day he was having. Missing lunch, getting shot, then mild torture. Still, he was confident he’d have another story to embellish within the hour. He doubted the Lacey’s wanted to add murder of a deputy to the charge of highway robbery, especially since they now definitely had the upper hand. Would he have gotten a rou...

William was almost free from
William was almost free from his prison cell, where he’d actually spent less than an hour. His depth perception was buggered though, and he misjudged the heavy swinging iron door as it sprung back from the extremity of its hinges. Fate decreed that he wouldn’t be leaving the cell without his head first resting on the pillow for at least a moment or two.

The brothers were reunited again
The brothers were reunited again. Two deputies were bundled and locked into one of their own prison cells. That should have been it. The three Lacey’s riding west into a setting sun. Cicadas chirping shrilly. Maybe the odd tumbleweed blowing across the path ahead. Their early swagger had undone them though. They’d been spotted brazenly walking along Fremont Avenue, and word had reached Marshal Wright and Deputy Murphy. If they’d have headed out of the jailhouse as they’d entered, they would have...

Catherine Donley was a lady of leisure.
Catherine Donley was a lady of leisure. Daughter of the former Town Marshal John Donley, when times in Flintwood had been considerably more prosperous. John had offered Ben Wright his first position of authority in Flintwood. His daughter had immediately caught his attention, and this attention developed into affection as months turned to years. John Lacey happened to have noticed Catherine too. His advances had been spurned on many an occasion. John felt no malice towards Catherine though, as d...

Fred had never seen the marshal this upset. Ben was
Fred had never seen the Marshal this upset. Ben was storming around the office, gathering supplies and barking out orders. More than once he burst out, “I’ll be damned if those bastards are going to get away with this!” “Shooting a deputy in the very confines of the jailhouse? No. Not in my town!”
True, George’s injury could be seen as a blow to the Marshal’s office, and George himself was looking a bit pale, but Fred guessed that it was Catherine’s fall that had unhinged Marshal Ben. Years befo...

The Red Boot Saloon had been
The Red Boot Saloon had been built at the height of the Tucker Mine’s success, and if copper was the blood of the town, the Red Boot was its heart. Her balustrades wore copper bonnets, as did her bedposts and chairs. The bar itself wore a skirt of hammered copper. The constant application of patron’s sleeves kept the stool-side edge of the bar gleaming, and the Boot’s bartenders kept the rest polished to match.
If you wanted to find someone in Flintwood, you started with the Red Boot: chances we...

As the four men approached
As the four men approached the jailhouse, Bob came running after them, tucking his shirt in hastily. He was out of breath, despite the short distance between the two buildings. Fred guessed he had heard the commotion downstairs and pulled out just in time to sprint down the stairs after them. He was grinning ear to ear.
“Sorry I’m late, boys!” said Bob jocularly as he came to a stop behind the procession. Still grinning, he drew the Twins and pointed the pistols directly at Cole and Frank. “Cole...

“Marshal
“Marshal…?”
“It’s Ben.”
“No sir, it’s Marshal. I’ve been around long ‘nough t’ know that showin’ r’spect all the time makes sure r’spect is what evr’one sees all the time.”
“I get that, but…”
“No sir, no buts. Marshal it is and Marshal it’ll be ‘till I’m not yur dep’ty.”
“What’ll I call you?”
“Well sir, as I see it, yur right to call me anything yus want. I’m contented with dep’ty, ur George ur Bell ur …” For the first time since they left Fleetwood Deputy George Bell stopped to consider his wor...

Kate stopped short.
Kate stopped short. Ben trusted Kate more than any man.
“Deputy, keep sharp.”
It was unnecessary. George already had his Colt out and at the ready. Years of experience had taught them both that a heading your horse would save your life. Ben had placed his Wells Fargo coach gun across the saddle horn. If it was a rattle snake then he was ready. If it was a man he would present an intimidating front. With Bell and that Colt as backup he did not need to affect the confidence clearly seen in his fac...

Kate stopped short. Didn’t
Kate stopped short. Didn’t the Lacy boys have a place east of town?”
“Yup. Another reason I thought east was the direction to head. Joe reliable?”
“I’d take his word over most white men. Never given me a reason to to feel otherwise.”
“What’s the problem then?”
“Well, if I had a place to the east that I knew was secure, why would I run west?”
“Because you have a place you think is more secure.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. They have an extra man and we don’t now what for guns and fortification.”
B...

Ben and George looked down
Ben and George looked down on the cabin from the top of the ridge. Just as Joe had said, the cabin was built in a shallow box canyon. The back wall of the cabin was the canyon wall. There was only one door. No windows. The mouth of the canyon was narrow enough that two men could prevent anything from escaping the canyon.
“Lacey! This is Marshal Wright. We’ve got the canyon blocked. Come on out!”
“Dang it! Was it the horses?”
“Nope. Fire.”
Three men exited the cabin. Gun belts held over head. As...

As Deputies Bell, Murphy
As Deputies Bell, Murphy and Wilson put the Laceys into a cell, Marshal Wright sat at his desk to look at a few papers that had not been there before he left. Bills from the general store for ammo and other supplies, a few meals from Red Boot Saloon, and one from the farrier for Kate’s new shoes. With the demise of the copper mine he knew that he needed to be careful with expenses. He had to pay these debts in cash or his scrip would be no good when he needed it most. “Damn one these one trick t...

“Ben, What you got fur us nixt?”
“Ben, What you got fur us nixt?” Fred Murphy was always the leader of the group. Ben was painfully aware that Fred felt he was supposed to be the Marshal. Luckily, Ben and Fred worked that out before the election. Fred was here for his wife and daughter. “A place they can be proud to call home,” was his answer to Ben’s question of “Why are you doin’ this job?” That’s when Ben realised he needed to keep Fred on his side.
Ben looked at the men as they filed in to stand in front of him. A family ma...

As the Bob and George filed out
As the Bob and George filed out of the building Ben was thinking what to do with all the trouble locked up in the cells. He had an idea, but it was critical that Fred agreed to it.
“Fred, I have a problem. I don’t think you will like the solution, but I need you on my team.”
“Sounds om’nous. How bad is this idea of yours?”
“Pretty bad. I’m sure you won’t like it. I’ve been thinking. When I go back there in a few minutes, Charlie, Cole and Frank are going to be… obst’nate. ‘What’d we do?’ It’s a ...

Marshal Wright had already stepped out of the door
Marshal Wright had already stepped out of the door of his office onto Fremont Avenue when he saw Sam Caldwell riding towards him, too late to go back inside and look busy, he shrugs and leans back against the door frame and waits for him, he already guessed at what Sam wants to talk about. Marshal had his own thoughts on that but he would give the lad a chance to prove himself.
Sam made quite an impression sitting on the brown mare, considering his height, somehow in his buckskins and with his w...

“Come on Frankie boy, get a move on!” Charlie swayed
“Come on Frankie boy, get a move on!” Charlie swayed in the saddle as his mare pranced her two front feet in the dust outside Frank Brown’s front door. His horse exchanged mutual glances with the young colt already saddled and tethered there. It had been a short ride from Charlie’s house, but she’d been having a happy time in the barn eating her hay and hadn’t taken kindly to being suddenly disturbed, saddled up and ridden out into the sweltering sunlight.
Charlie could smell coffee and heard m...

“Must go to the bank in a bit
“Must go to the bank in a bit, Bethie!” Steve Mason called to his wife, as he heaved the last barrel of flour off the back of the wagon and expertly rolled it into the storeroom. “Can you watch the front of the store?”
“I sure will, honey” his pretty young wife replied, coming into the counter area from the kitchen behind. She was holding their ginger cat, who was purring contentedly. Steve went to the front door and turned the sign from Closed to Open.
“I’m a lucky man!” he said, smiling at her...

Some folks are at lunch and the Spanish take siesta
Some folks are at lunch and the Spanish take siesta, leaving Gila Avenue deserted except for a few tired horses hitched at the end of the block. Sam passes a chestnut mare and wonders if Ben is right. Maybe he should move on. He doesn’t have to go to the ranch with Joseph. He could always take up with the guys heading back East to Camp McPherson or move to Texas for a fresh start. No, Sam almost speaks out loud, shaking his head as he rounds the corner of Second Street. I’m not going anywhere.
A...

Jimmy-Bob Thornton and his younger brother Billy-Joe
Jimmy-Bob Thornton and his younger brother Billy-Joe set their eyes on Flintwood for the first time, and Jimmy-Bob proclaimed that it was a shit-hole.
“C’mon, we’ll leave the horses down there.” The two headed down 4th street and dropped onto the ground. After tying the horses up, Jimmy-Bob motioned for Billy-Joe to follow him to the corner of Tucker, opposite the First National Bank. They quietly arranged a couple of wooden crates next to the door of an old shack. Jimmy-Bob peeped inside, saw n...

“You see that? The Marshal
“You see that? The Marshal isn’t doing a darned thing.”
Seth Madsen and Jimmy Jackson stood forward, leaning on the balcony barricade overlooking Gila and 4th. Seth handed the binoculars back to Jimmy. They watched Town Marshal Wright at the corner of Fremont and 4th observing the confrontation between the Laceys and the Thorntons.
“This would never happen back home,” said Jimmy. “Our Marshal would have lunged in head-first and given himself a hard old time cleaning up the mess. This guy… this g...

Jimmy and Seth’s horses galloped away from Flintwood
Jimmy and Seth’s horses galloped away from Flintwood along the flat trail leading northeast to the surrounding mountains in the direction of the New Mexico border. Clouds had rolled in and the warm part of September had passed. The terrain turned rough a couple of miles out of town which slowed them down. As soon as the trail became steep the riders loosened the reins to let their horses choose their own path up the mountain. Small stones knocked aside by the horse’s hooves clattered down the sl...

The Lacey gang settled down for the night
The Lacey gang settled down for the night in what was left of an Indian community built out of an existing natural cave in the side of the mountain. Different sized communities like this were scattered throughout the mountains of Arizona and New Mexico. Frank could only guess at the manpower it took to haul enough rocks up the side of a mountain to form the walls and fire pits. Thatched roofs used to cover the small square dwellings. Disintegrating wooden beams jutted out at odd angles where tim...

Michael crept quietly, the sound of the dry ground
Michael crept quietly, the sound of the dry ground breaking under his boots. The light of the moon above him is the only way he can see where he is going. There aren’t many places to hide, except a few Saguaro cacti, not that they would offer him any shelter, and it would only take someone peering out the window at the right time. Getting caught would surely mean death for him. They killed Charlie. Who is to say they wouldn’t kill him. Even if he is a Lacey and he has his doubts his brothers wou...

“What is it, Sam?” Ben asked wh
“What is it, Sam?” Ben asked when he pulled the door open, setting the shotgun down.
“Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but Michael Lacey would like a word with you.”
That didn’t surprise him. He figured one of the Lacey brothers would come to him eventually to discuss Charlie Evan’s death. He’s not happy about the developments there and he has a pretty good idea he’s not going to like how this will turn out. Jimmy Jackson and Seth Madsen are trouble. Big trouble based on what he’s learned from the fe...

Sam fingered the badge on his chest still unfamiliar
Sam fingered the badge on his chest still unfamiliar with the extra weight. The deputy turned to head back to the jailhouse. While walking the boardwalk he imagined riding up to the homestead just before dinner time. Ma would be busy with the family dinner. Pa would still be out working. Sis would be setting the table with a frown on her face.
Sam pictured knocking on the door like a visitor. Ma would scream. “Who could that be at this hour, get your lazy hinny over there girl, see who it is.” ...

“Well, shit.” Murphy said, the hat in his left hand
“Well, shit.” Murphy said, the hat in his left hand tapping rhythmically against his thigh.
Sam swallowed convulsively, face pale and glistening with sweat as he looked at the dead man on the floor.
“Don't boot on my floor, son.” Wright said, nodding toward the back door.
The boy looked up, shook his head, swallowed again.
“This ain't gonna blow over Wright, he's crossed the line.” Murphy put his hat on, looked down at Wilson and took it off again.
“He has,” Wright said.
“No family, so t...

Marshal Wright burst through the mayor’s front door
Marshal Wright burst through the mayor’s front door into the waiting room.
“Mayor, we need some - what the damn hell?”
His brow furrowed and he poked his head into the office proper. Nobody was within. Not here in the ante room.  Not here in the Mayor’s office.
“Damnation.”  He sighed into his chest.
The office was as good a place as any to hold up for a while. He doubted the Jackson-Madsen gang would come looking for him here, and the Mayor’s chair did look mighty comfortable.
Settling his sore...

The morning came sudden
The morning came sudden and fierce. Dew and the night’s cold embrace chilled Marshal Wright to the bone. He flexed his fingers. His hands were stiff. If he were in a fight this morning he’d be in a very rough patch. At least he had one thing working in his favour. The gang of killers were late night drinkers and early morning sleepers. He felt safe enough to swing by the inn and borrow a biscuit and bacon, and enough coffee to keep his hands loose. The Mayor could wait, for there were some thing...

Finding out that Catherine was his boss's daughter
Finding out that Catherine was his boss's daughter, years ago, had been hard for Ben. There's always a line, whether you're working on a ranch or you're saving Flintwood from the worst boys and men west of the Mississippi. But, thankfully, Marshal Donley hadn't seem too worried, if only because he smiled and said that his thoughts were the least of Ben's problems. And how true that had been.
Why his thoughts were drifting to Catherine, when his remaining deputies had quit, was troubling. She...

Although uneventful, the ride
Although uneventful, the ride back into town had heightened Ben's nerves, and as he rounded the corner of 2nd Street and Fremont Avenue, he spied George's hat in the window of the Red Boot Saloon and automatically yelled out his name. But thankfully no one heard him. His voice had almost cracked, like a schoolboy, because the pressure of the remaining bandits was getting to him. He needed to get his posse back together. He let Kate meander her way towards the Saloon, before finally getting off, ...

Ben knew that his other
Ben knew that his other former Deputy, Sam Caldwell, would be drinking alone and possibly sleeping, wherever he could find a safe berth. Some people liked houses and the like, some people could afford houses and the like, but Ben had a suspicion that Sam was neither of these people.
Ben saw Kate feeling his own anxiety and emotions, in the way that she began to wobble and meander as she walked. They were connected, which usually made Ben feel better, but now all he wanted was to calm his mare. M...

Ben Wright watched the spider and wondered how the
Ben Wright watched the spider and wondered how the night would end. Likely not well for any of them, he decided, took his eyes off the spider and squinted again at the dark sky. Spiders must have a short life after all, despite their apparent predatory superiority and men, whether hunter or hunted, often died well in advance of nature. He looked again for the spot where the web had glistened in the shadow but could not find it. He cocked his head back and a rain drop exploded into his left eye.
...

Ben Wright watched the spider and wondered how the-1
"You hear that?" Seth Madsen whispered to Jimmy Jackson.
"What? I didn't hear nothin'. Just that damn rain is all."
"I thought I heard voices. I dunno. They'll be comin' for sure though."
"I know. But I know somethin' they don't."
"What?"
"Bird told me what to expect. He also tipped off the boys. That Marshal's gonna have a nice surprise."
"The Mayor?"
"Yeah. He ain't no friend to Mr. Marshal Wright."
"Well, he ain't no friend to us neither."
"I know. He'll get his surprise soon as we finish the...

Ben Wright watched the spider and wondered how the-2
The rain pounded the rear wall of the Red Boot Saloon. The Lacey brothers and Cole Vaughn stood ramrod straight against it in a failing bid for shelter. They watched as a dark figure slowly skulked around the building's corner and disappeared.
"Who the hell was that?" Cole Vaughn asked.
"The Mayor you dummy," spat John Lacey.
"How'd you know? He was wearin' a hood. Coulda been anybody."
"You see his boots? Only the Mayor wears snakeskin boots around here."
"Snakeskin?"
"Boots made from snakes. ...

Ben Wright watched the spider and wondered how the-3
Marshal Wright sensed the rain's end before it began to abate. Damn rain, he thought, it's always the same for me. He remembered years of herding, having to find excuses to avoid human contact when it rained. If he had the fortune, good or bad, to have lived in the tropics, his life might have been quite different.
"I might be a professor!" He laughed out loud. He spun and leveled the Spencer at the noise behind him.
"Ben! Don't shoot! It's me! I'm back like I said!" Caldwell whispered hoarsely...

The clapboard siding of the Marshal’s Office splintered
The clapboard siding of the Marshal’s Office splintered one last time as a final bullet spat out by the gang’s retreat tore into it.
Wright raised the Spencer repeater back to his shoulder and took aim. “Dammit.” He could barely make out silhouettes in the dim light. Never mind the notion of missing—he might just as well hit Caldwell as one them bastards and he was plumb short of deputies at the moment.
He watched the gang retreat further into the darkness, the drumming hoof beats of their hors...

Half an hour later, the steady, s
Half an hour later, the steady, still-distant, sound of horses’ hooves stopped. Wright reined in Kate and listened. The breeze brought a hint of voices punctuated by bursts of raucous laughter. Have they stopped? They’re still well shy of the mines. The Marshal dismounted. They had closed the gap to four to five hundred yards, close enough to hear, yet far enough away to not be seen. From this point on it was all about stealth. This wasn’t the best country for sneaking around—unless you were Ind...

Clearing the hills,
Clearing the hills, Wright spurred the mare to a modest gallop back toward Flintwood. Jackson and Madsen probably wouldn’t bother chasing him tonight, even though he’d deprived them of their morbid fun. Poor Caldwell. At least he didn’t leave a wife and children that would need looking after. Mayhap I should ride straight on to Tuscon and let his parents and that sister of his know directly. Maybe even stay a while. Might be a blessing, in Bird’s eyes, to be rid of me.

Peace was never a dog you could train gentle, thought
Peace was never a dog you could train gentle, thought Mayor Bird. The swinging and twitching corpse of the deputy, as seen through the dusted panes of glass in the Wells Fargo bank, did little to sway his mind otherwise. Powder smoke had accumulated around the deserted bank, glowing across the billows, as numerous windows from residences around the building went from black to tallow yellow. Even from here, he could hear shuffling and muffling behind curtains. “Get down!” a woman husked out loudl...

All was quiet yet, and
All was quiet yet, and dark, when Mayor Bird crept up on his home. Although the town had lit up, those folks living up the road were only gradually awakening. Worryingly, the geography and wind occasionally parted to reveal the sound of a thundering horse. At times it seemed all around him, but that was some minutes ago. Now he was back. Relief, and a sense of success, brought a sigh out of him as he crossed the clearing to the back of the house.
The cellar door erupted upward with avian suddenn...

“Wheear 'ast tha bin sin' ah saw thee
“Wheear 'ast tha bin sin' ah saw thee?”
“Catherine!” Wright stopped dead on the sidewalk, took a deep breath, and slowly turned. “I didn’t expect to see you.” He knew it was a banal line, but what else could he say? And it was true. Catherine McCarty just stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
She glared at him. “Tha’s flayt,” she accused. He wasn’t sure just what thet meant, she could be almost unintelligible sometimes, so he just nodded abruptly. “Tha’s gangin...

The Red Boot’s doors
The Red Boot’s doors were still off their hinges after last night’s brawl. He’d still been Town Marshal then and, before he’d thrown his badge at the Mayor, he’d made sure to let Eriksen out of the jail. He might have been forgotten otherwise, and that wouldn’t be right. It was over, finished, and maybe the town was headed the same way, but at least he would leave tidy what he could leave that way.
Wright didn’t say anything. The bartender was sweeping the floor with a broom that had seen better...

The Mayor was sitting slumped
The Deputy Mayor was sitting slumped in his chair, behind his desk, when Charlie Bellman knocked on the door. Acting Mayor, he supposed he was now after the previous days events. He wasn’t sure if that was just his job in the Mayor’s absence, and Henry Bird was more than just absent now. No point being slow to get used to it. He was the Mayor now, at least until an election could be called.
“Enter!”
The carpenter walked in, still carrying his bag of tools. “Boss,” he said, “I think we have a pro...

“Seth?”
“Seth?”
"Seth?"
“Seth?”
“Yep. Thought of something, Jimmy?” Seth rained in his horse and looked over the broad, arid, valley.
“Was wondering what next. After all this. Folk are starting to drift away. Where would we ride on to?”
“We’ll have money. Won’t need to ride on. Folk with money can do what they want.”
Jimmy Jackson took off his hat, looked at it, and shook off some dust. “Yeah, but remember those guys who stole that Army payroll in ‘63.” He glanced over his shoulder at the Lacey brothers, back up the tr...

It takes time to get drunk.
It takes time to get drunk.
Wright had had more than enough time, and the bottle was empty now. He didn’t care whether there was anything left of his dollar. Neither the dollar bill nor the whiskey seemed to be there any more. He blinked, and tried to count the bottles in front of him. Whiskey, why did it always have to be whiskey? He thought he could remember beer. Why didn’t the Red Boot have any. They had it back East, but not here.
He looked up, and opened his mouth. What was it he was going...

“He never could shoot straight with a hand gun
“He never could shoot straight with a hand gun,” said Charlie Bellman to the Mayor. “It wouldn’t be a good idea to stand anywhere near the Red Boot at four.” After a momentary pause he went on, “He’s sober enough that if he turns up they can get it called Self Defence by a judge. And I’m wondering who taight them a trick like that.”
“So he’ll stay?”
“He told the stable-lad he’d be collecting his horse at a quarter-hour past.” Bellman shrugged. “He’ll stay for six foot of Flintwood ground, nothin...

“You could still get your horse,”
“You could still get your horse,” said Catherine Donley.
Wright nodded. “More coffee,” was all he said.
“You figure they’d come after you?” She poured coffee. He’s already called her “Catherine” twice, not “Miss Donley”, and she knew of at least three other women in town with that name, and one horse.
“I’d vanish,” he said, “And it would blamed on Indians.”
He drained the mug. She said nothing. He picked up the gun that Jackson had given him. Charlie Bellman had insisted he fire it at a target, ...

Wright had stayed off Fremont,
Wright had stayed off Fremont, not wanting to take that long lone walk towards where Jackson would be waiting. He would be coming from the direction of the Marshal’s office when he turned from 3rd Street onto Fremont, and that would have to do. It was just a few steps from there to the Red Boot, but it would be enough. No holster, so Jackson would shoot him down with a gun in his hand.
He’d heard stories from a few maimed veterans. He might be dead before he had the chance to feel anything. The ...

“What are they all here for?”
“What are they all here for?” Michael Lacey spoke barely above a whisper, almost into his brother’s ear. It was hardly a crowd, but the sidewalks of Fremont seemed almost crowded. All men, many of them respectable seeming, most of them older than he was.
“Reckon they’ve come to see a man die,” said John.
Michael glanced at his other brother, who tried to smile, and failed.
John didn’t look all that cheerful. “William,” he said. “Go watch the stable. Let the bastard run if he wants to, but tell u...

Wright almost plodded,
Wright almost plodded, keeping to the centre of the street except for a sideways step to avoid that pile of horseshit that had been there all day. He didn’t like the crowd, too much chance of somebody getting hurt. He stopped, about a dozen paces from Jackson, and tried to stand up straight. His head was throbbing in the same old way. That would end soon enough. This was a lousy headache cure.
“You’re here,” said Jackson.
“Yep,” said Wright. “Now’s your chance.” He made sure his gun-laden hand w...

Kate—the horse, that is—was waiting.
Kate—the horse, that is—was waiting. So was Billy Lacey.
“There was no shooting.”
Wright checked the girth. “There wasn’t. And I’m not minded to start any.”
“My brothers?”
“Maybe I owe ‘em something.” Wright though back over all that had happened. “I’m leaving town, heading for California. No promises, but without me there isn’t much case against your brothers. I owe them that chance.” He mounted. “There’s nothing worth staying for.”
Lacey looked up at him. “I didn’t figure you for somebody who’...

The stagecoach pitched and swayed along the dusty trail
The stagecoach pitched and swayed along the dusty trail winding its way through the clumps of saguaros and prickly pears. It gave a big lurch, nearly tipping over as it descended into yet another dried-up watercourse. The driver cracked his whip and shouted to encourage the tired horses up the slope on the other side. A cloud of dust, thrown up as the coach entered the watercourse, blew into the coach.
“How much longer are we going to be stuck in this goldarn dust-bucket?” Michael said, trying i...

The Red Boot Saloon was quite busy
The Red Boot Saloon was quite busy. It usually was when a stage was due to arrive.
In the gambling corner, Slim Jefferson was sitting with “Flinty” Stone, who worked for him on his claim, and Jake Roberts, a drifter who picked up odd jobs and gambled away whatever he earned. Slim wasn’t making anything much these days, just enough to keep him going, supplemented by occasional winnings from the gambling, and to pay Flinty his pittance.
Lucy was sitting at a table near the door in the other part o...

The coach rumbled into town
The coach rumbled into town along Fremont Avenue, past the Mayor’s office, past the Red Boot Saloon, past the Marshal’s office and rolled to a stop in front of the Wells Fargo Bank.
William looked at the offices as they passed. The buildings looked unprepossessing and run down. He was tired, dusty, thirsty and in no good mood. John had talked of prosperity, but this didn’t seem anything like that.
Michael, looking the other way had observed the Red Boot Saloon without much enthusiasm and then sa...

When the three entered the
When the three entered the Red Boot, the atmosphere had changed. Anna was now sitting with Lucy, deep in some kind of conversation, and Red Morgan had joined the gamblers at their table.
At the bar, John ordered shots of whiskey and beers for the three of them. He turned round towards the gamblers at the table.
“Hi, Slim, can I introduce my brothers? This is Michael and that is William.”
“Michael and William, welcome. These here are Flinty Stone, and Jake Roberts, and that is Red Morgan, who has...

They picked up their bags and
They picked up their bags and followed John round the corner into Third Street, where they found a dilapidated cart with a broken-down nag lolling between the shafts. Its head drooped disconsolately. The cart had no springs, its wheels looked as if they would come off at any moment, and many of the boards were rotten and crumbling.
“Here we are,” said John and climbed up on the bench. Without a word, Michael and William tossed their bags in the back and climbed on board.
John went up Third Stree...

In the sweltering heat of the late September day the
In the sweltering heat of the late September day the three were squashed onto the bench seat of John's rickety old buckboard, they'd been jounced and bounced and travelling for some time before anyone spoke.
"I'm sorry boys, I shoulda told you." John said, taking a swig of water from the canteen before passing it on the Billy. Still partially drunk, John's voice was even more gravelly than it had been the last time they'd seen one another. He snapped the reins, and the horse quickened her pace f...

“…so then I fucked her long
“…so then I fucked her long and hard, Josh. Long and hard until she was a squealin like a piglet being thwomped by its moma," Ralf said with a gleeful squeeze of his groin. "And I swear, Josh, I swear I saw all the stars in heaven, and god a smilin at me as I came. Sheesh, but it were somethin!" Ralf swapped the wad of tobacco into his left cheek, then spat over the side of the stagecoach.
"Jesus Ralf, how many times have I told you not to spit to windward!"
"Sorry Josh."
"Yeah, well, sorry don'...

"You want me to what?"
"You want me to what?" Billy said, his hands on his hips.
"Lie down on the track and pretend you're wounded. Shout for help as the stagecoach gets close." John said for the third time. "As I explained, the stagecoach'll stop and we'll surround it."
"Why don't you lie down in front of it, then?"
"'Cause it's my plan you little whelp!" John roared. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. "Look. For the fourth time. Michael's going to be on top of the rocks, so he's above them, aiming dow...

"Did you hear anything, Ralf?"
"Did you hear anything, Ralf?" Josh said.
"No," the boy said. "Sorry."
"Oh." They'd just come down off the mesa and into the home stretch to Flintwood. Compared to the brightness of the sun on the mesa the valley was deep in shadows, and Josh was having a hard time seeing. He was looking forward to a hot meal and a few beers at the Red Boot Saloon.
"HELP!"
Josh stood up, his eyes widening in horror at the sight of a body lying prone on the track in front of them. "Whoa!" he said, yanking on the ...

The bald, short fellow shifted on the horse. Couldn’t
The bald, short fellow shifted on the horse. Couldn’t find a comfortable way of seating himself, that was about the strength of it. The animal wasn’t suited for riding, nor didn’t like it any. A drawing-horse, built, broken and trained for teamwork in the traces of a four-in-hand. Suited the bald, short fellow just fine that way but here he was, hitched uneasily on the harness-saddle, clinging on to the water hook as the animal stepped springily along the stony track.
…Goddamn thing
but the hors...

“One-horse town” thought
“One-horse town” thought the bald, short fellow. Not much to look at. Twelve blocks or so. Four streets and nobody much stirring. The usual. Not on his route but this wasn’t his route anyway. Just bad luck.
The usual. The usual old bastard clicking his three teeth as he sat on an upturned barrel beneath a sign reading “GENERAL SUPPLIES STORE EASY TERMS FEED MINING EQUIPT JAS BALOCH PROP”. The usual boarding-house with the usual old
hymn-singing
pussy peering through the dusty lace curtains.
The ...

The bald, short fellow climbed down
The bald, short fellow climbed down, twisting his knee, hitched his Morgan horse to the rail, and went inside.
Faces. The usual. Town Drunk, the Doc, the guy who has a yearning for the schoolmarm, the preacher’s kid going to the bad, the soiled dove hoping to help him get there, dusty guys, a fellow in a sharp braided tie with a turquoise stick-pin and a pale taupe
I’m so rich it don’t matter none if my hat gets soiled with the copper-dust
whipped-brim derby perched on the back of his ginger hea...

Dusk was falling, three miles
Dusk was falling, three miles out of town, when the Marshal and his three deputies picked up the trail.
“Shells for that thing?” he had said to the bald, short fellow.
“I don’t go in for shooting much,” said Pug.
“Much?”
“At all. Fifteen years. Couldn’t hit a thing anyway.”
“You need one of these, fella.” The Marshal unholstered a Spencer repeater from his saddle. “Hit a speck in a Mexican’s moustache at five hundred yards. Or one of these.” He produced a short-barreled shotgun from inside his ...

The Red Boot was crowded
The Red Boot was crowded to the rafters when Ben and his deputies returned.
“Marshal,” said the barkeep; “Bob; Fred. Drinks on the house. What about George?”
“George got shot up lightly,” said the Marshal. “Doc’s bandaging him up. He’ll have a whiskey. He’ll have two whiskies. Be along soon. He ain’t hurt worth a damn.”
“He’s tough, George is,” said the Marshal. “All them times.” He turned to Pug. “All them tales of his. Anyone of them true, he’d be crow-bait now.”
“Still, he did get a bit shot,...

“Whoa there
“Whoa there!”
The stagecoach driver yanked on the reins, pulling up hard the sweaty dirt-caked horses in front of Wells Fargo Bank on Fremont Avenue. The horses shuddered and stopped, flanks heaving and dripping. They dreamt of soft hay, oats, and water.
Charley, Wells Fargo’s man, jumped off the coach, barely waiting for it to stop. He hit the ground running, racing around the corner to 4th Street and the bank entrance. Before he reached the door, it opened. No time for water or a chair. He ...

It was 10:00 AM and Mayor
It was 10:00 AM and Mayor Henry Bird was already tired.
The mayor closed the back door to his office, careful not to make a sound. Charley had been a good investment, a back door as it were to what was going on at Wells Fargo. The bank director was a tight ass, a by-the-book-man. He didn’t like the mayor and the mayor didn’t like him. But Charley was a different story. As dumb as he appeared, Charley knew opportunity when it came knocking.
The mayor’s day hadn’t started out well, even before...

Marshal Wright sat at his desk,
Marshal Wright sat at his desk, filing a report. He hated paperwork but it was part of the job and he loved the job. Sounds of chairs scraping on the rough wood floor, laughing, and the prisoner’s cackling nonsense – Billy Lacey was daft after all -- seeped under the closed office door. Ben wasn’t worried. The boys – as he called his deputies – had it all under control. They had Billy and it was just a matter of time before they had his two brothers. That would be a great day for Flintwood, and ...

By the time Marshal Benjamin Wright walks into the
By the time Marshal Benjamin Wright walks into the Red Boot Saloon it’s the time of night when the temperature starts to really sink and the bugs are out humming in full force. The perfect time for nursing some good whiskey in the cozy creaky saloon. It’s full to the brim with people and the low amiable jumble of a dozen conversations. Woman laugh and glasses clatter, a heated voice or two is joked down by their companions. All in all, it’s a grand atmosphere for the worn-out Marshal. He dusts o...

“Will was always the one getting caught, always the
“Will was always the one getting caught, always the one running to mamma afterwards!” Michael moaned in a hushed voice.
John Lacey and his brother were both crouched, obscured from view, opposite Wells Fargo Bank on Fremont Avenue. Why hadn’t they opted for the bank rather than a Wells Fargo stagecoach that had rewarded them with next to nothing? They’d have been cash aplenty in the bank, and gold too. It was probably because Marshal Benjamin Wright’s office was only a stone’s throw away across...

If John and Michael looke
If John and Michael looked like they’d been having a bad day, William took it up a couple of notches. Deputy Robert Wilson wasn’t against using one of his Smith & Wesson revolvers for more than shooting. The handgun had been turned and used in an unfriendly manner on more than one occasion, leaving William with a closing eye and a weeping lesion above his hairline. Ben had insisted that he be treated, and had mildly admonished Bob, but William was still in a sorry state. He was slumped over, but...

John and Michael Lacey were now
John and Michael Lacey were now in plain sight. Colt revolvers in hand as they crossed Fremont Avenue heading towards the jailhouse. Their forlorn look but moments earlier had been transformed as they’d raised from their haunches revealing their impressive full stature. Neither man had the Neanderthal shape of the well muscled deputy Bob Wilson, who was adorned with the odd bodily scar here and there to add to the stereotype (which he now naturally liked to reciprocate when at all possible), but...

At first John struggled to locate
At first John struggled to locate the cell keys in Ben’s office, but a finger lightly applied to George’s arm delivered the appropriate response. George couldn’t believe what a shit day he was having. Missing lunch, getting shot, then mild torture. Still, he was confident he’d have another story to embellish within the hour. He doubted the Lacey’s wanted to add murder of a deputy to the charge of highway robbery, especially since they now definitely had the upper hand. Would he have gotten a rou...

William was almost free from
William was almost free from his prison cell, where he’d actually spent less than an hour. His depth perception was buggered though, and he misjudged the heavy swinging iron door as it sprung back from the extremity of its hinges. Fate decreed that he wouldn’t be leaving the cell without his head first resting on the pillow for at least a moment or two.

The brothers were reunited again
The brothers were reunited again. Two deputies were bundled and locked into one of their own prison cells. That should have been it. The three Lacey’s riding west into a setting sun. Cicadas chirping shrilly. Maybe the odd tumbleweed blowing across the path ahead. Their early swagger had undone them though. They’d been spotted brazenly walking along Fremont Avenue, and word had reached Marshal Wright and Deputy Murphy. If they’d have headed out of the jailhouse as they’d entered, they would have...

Catherine Donley was a lady of leisure.
Catherine Donley was a lady of leisure. Daughter of the former Town Marshal John Donley, when times in Flintwood had been considerably more prosperous. John had offered Ben Wright his first position of authority in Flintwood. His daughter had immediately caught his attention, and this attention developed into affection as months turned to years. John Lacey happened to have noticed Catherine too. His advances had been spurned on many an occasion. John felt no malice towards Catherine though, as d...

"It's all your fault Ben and you know it!" yelled Mayor-1
"It's all your fault Ben and you know it!" yelled Mayor Bird.
"Look Henry, I'm not happy either that the Laceys have skipped town but I don't see how it is my fault. I didn't give the keys and wish them a safe journey. Or is that what you think happened?" calmly shouted Marshal Wright.
"Ben, don't try and be coy, you know the town was a lot safer when Marshal Donley was here. It's been going to the dogs ever since he left to go fight against the Yankees."
Ben looked at the little short round man...

"Fred, who we are going
"Fred, who we are going to pick up first, Charlie, Cole or Frank?" asked Bob Murphy.
"Charlie Evans will most likely be down at the Red Boot with Frank. I heard tell that Cole was cleaning out the stables for money so he may be there."
"Lets go get Charlie and Frank first, hopefully they haven't been drinking or loosing too much money playing cards. Is your gun ready just in case?" said Bob.
"Yep, cleaned it this morning. You?" Patting his Old Model revolver with his right hand as he talked.
"Y...

The Red Boot saloon wasn't
The Red Boot saloon wasn't fancy not that you would expect it to be, but it wasn't clean or neat either. When you walked through the doors the bar was in the back with tables for playing cards on the left. In the back right corner was the staircase that went upstairs where the guest rooms were. The place was always dirty which was to be expected we were in Arizona after all. But there was an additional layer of dust that just never seemed to go away and other time it was getting thicker and more...

They found Cole at the
They found Cole at the stables asleep on a pile of hay and manure. They roused him awake and he was more than happy to come down to the jail for a clean cot and a meal. They placed him in the cell with Frank, who was still passed out and threw him a blanket and he promptly went to sleep on the cot facing Frank.
"Now we need to find Charlie."
The two Deputies walked out of the jail and went down to the saloon to see if he had returned, but he hadn’t. Lucy was now working her charms on a drunk mi...

Continuing down Fremont Avenue
Continuing down Fremont Avenue they didn't find him in any of the establishments there. They walked up morticians on the comer of 2nd and Cottonwood and asked old man Miller if he had seen Charlie Evans.
"Nope, haven't seen him. What's he done now?"
"Nothing. Just want to talk to him."
With that the two Deputies walked further east down Cottonwood and came across Charlie laying half in a water trough.
Fred ran over too him and pulled him out of the trough and let him fall unto the mud. Charlie m...

“I’ve got us a plan to track down the Lacey’s,” started
“I’ve got us a plan to track down the Lacey’s,” started Marshal Wright as he kept his horse at a slow pace down Fourth Street. “But I want to play it slow until we’re away from the busy streets in town.”
“You know the worst part about molasses candies?” Deputy Bell asked with his left hand holding onto the reins of his horse and his right hand half in his mouth as he picked his teeth.
Marshal Wright looked over at Bell and began to wonder if he should have found another riding partner. Maybe som...

“Why are you so upset, Sam?’ Della eyes him over the
“Why are you so upset, Sam?” Della eyes him over the rim of her glass.
Outside the Red Boot, some damn mule is raising a ruckus in the middle of the street. Sam’s gaze follows the noise and the question just hangs there.  
“Well?” Della persists. “So he said no. You never heard anyone tell you no before?”
“Oh hell, Della.” Sam heaves a sigh and wads up his dishtowel, tossing it up into the air. “I used to think No was my middle name. No was about the only thing I ever heard from my pa aside from...

The marshal is sitting
The Marshal is sitting at his desk staring out at the street. Sam stands in the doorway waiting to be noticed. Eventually Ben turns, swiveling slowly in his chair. His face, usually alert and attentive, is gaunt and exhausted, his eyes dark and sunken. “Sam. Come on in. What can I do for you?”
Sam twists his hat and takes a deep breath. “Marshal, I’d like to apply for that job again. You know you need a deputy and I think I could do it. I’ve always wanted to be a Deputy.” He stops talking. Ben i...

The cemetery, so full of people
The cemetery, so full of people just hours earlier, is deserted. Della’s grave is raw, a grassless mound with a few wild flowers left by some of the girls from the Red Boot. A wooden cross, newly hewn, stands guard at one end. Della Crestwell. Funny, Sam hadn’t ever known her last name. Hadn’t ever thought to ask. He thinks about praying, but can’t think of anything to say. What would he ask for if he prayed? What good would it do? The things he wants are not possible: Della alive and laughing; ...

The chewing tobacco hit the most unlikely spot of all
The chewing tobacco hit the most unlikely spot of all. A rather large, female deer fly crawled across the muddy ground towards John Lacey’s uncommonly shiny leather boots. The moment it was about to take off, a big splodge of the sticky brown juice dropped down on her, making it impossible to escape – even for such a lightning-quick insect. It was buried not three inches from the tip of the old cowhide.
Deer flies were rare in South-eastern Arizona.
“Damn crickits makin’ it impossible to hear y...

Six horses and their riders
Six horses and their riders slowed to a trot when they arrived in town.
Flintwood was busy as always. Fremont Avenue rattled and clattered with carts, boots, horses and men, the clinking of glasses and bottles blowing over from Red Boot Saloon and the chatter of people both inside and out on the street. A coach was being loaded for the next big trip west and women were bustling to and fro, carrying plaid suitcases and dirty bags. Dust was in the air, and it helped the Lacey gang to quickly disap...

“The blazes! 25 dollars
“The blazes! 25 dollars is all I earned this month!”
“I’m sorry Wash, I know it’s a lotta money. Have you got anything left?”
“Well, acourse, I ain’t no idiot. I got my stash in the back, the rest at First National. But ever since the mine’s been declinin’, it’s been a-tough to get by.”
They looked at each other, unspoken words hanging in the air. He hadn’t known Wash very well, an old man who mostly kept to himself. The rush when the mine first opened should have made him a rich man, and he mig...

Some folks are at lunch and the Spanish take siesta
Some folks are at lunch and the Spanish take siesta, leaving Gila Avenue deserted except for a few tired horses hitched at the end of the block. Sam passes a chestnut mare and wonders if Ben is right. Maybe he should move on. He doesn’t have to go to the ranch with Joseph. He could always take up with the guys heading back East to Camp McPherson or move to Texas for a fresh start. No, Sam almost speaks out loud, shaking his head as he rounds the corner of Second Street. I’m not going anywhere.
A...

Hidden in the shadows of First National Bank, two figures
Hidden in the shadows of First National Bank, two figures leaned against the wall, scrutinising passing foot traffic.
“Where in blazes are we right now?” the man demanded.
“Flintwood. Used to be a mining town,” his companion replied.
“Flintwood, eh?” The man spat on the ground and glanced sideways at the woman. “Sounds like something you’d use to start a fire. I’d like to set this town ablaze, in more than one way. This here bank pro’ly has some nice cash for us to plunder, but the rest of it…”...

“Damn, but I hate you triplets.”
“Damn, but I hate you triplets.” Cole downed the last of his whiskey and held his glass up for a refill. “Gimme another one.”
Michael slammed his hand down on the bar. “Why won’t you believe us?”
“Do that again and I’ll have to ask you to leave,” the saloon-keeper said, approaching with Cole’s refill.
“Apologies.”
Cole sipped from his full glass and grimaced as the saloon-keeper walked away to tend to other customers. “You triplets say ye heard a heist being planned at First National? No w...

“This is yer idea?” Cole demanded.
“This is yer idea?” Cole demanded. “Stand out in the blazin’ sun every day, fer hours on end?”
“That’s the point,” Michael replied. “We’ll steal their lookout. If they actually do a heist, we’ll be here to stop them.” He hoisted the rifle he held a bit higher on his chest, adding, “And if we get lucky, they mistake us for security guards and never do the heist at all.”
“So when do ya reckon we can stop this lookout business and get back to our jobs?” Cole asked. “We can’t just stand around here ...

From a safe distance away
From a safe distance away, Marshal Wright watched the black-clad figures walk away, followed by the Flintwood group. Another heist successfully foiled. He smiled and strolled away, ready to go enjoy a celebratory drink at the Red Boot Saloon.

“That Marshal is a piece of work,”
“That Marshal is a piece of work,” Seth remarked. “He saw that heist about to go down and did nothing.”
“Yeah. Now we know what’ll happen when we actually move in with the heist.” Jimmy laughed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Marshal won’t do a dang thing to stop it, and we can just deal with that gang of bandits somehow so they don’t bother us.”
As he turned to follow the group to the outskirts of town, Seth added, “Your little darlin’ is quite an actress. I think she’s captured the heart ...

Jimmy and Seth’s horses galloped away from Flintwood
Jimmy and Seth’s horses galloped away from Flintwood along the flat trail leading northeast to the surrounding mountains in the direction of the New Mexico border. Clouds had rolled in and the warm part of September had passed. The terrain turned rough a couple of miles out of town which slowed them down. As soon as the trail became steep the riders loosened the reins to let their horses choose their own path up the mountain. Small stones knocked aside by the horse’s hooves clattered down the sl...

The Lacey gang settled down for the night
The Lacey gang settled down for the night in what was left of an Indian community built out of an existing natural cave in the side of the mountain. Different sized communities like this were scattered throughout the mountains of Arizona and New Mexico. Frank could only guess at the manpower it took to haul enough rocks up the side of a mountain to form the walls and fire pits. Thatched roofs used to cover the small square dwellings. Disintegrating wooden beams jutted out at odd angles where tim...

Michael Lacey was swigging them back and kept the jug
Michael Lacey was swigging them back and kept the jug going round, but he wasn't really drinking. The house at John Lacey's place was small, so most of the men were camped out back. Evenings were cold enough to make a campfire good, and a good campfire was mostly good for playing and drinking. John Lacey was over playing cards on a stump with Madsen. Jimmy had dragged a chair out the house and sat by the back door watching over the proceedings.
"Why don't you sing something for us, William?" Mic...

The fire was just smolders
The fire was just smoulders when Michael slipped away from their encampment that night. Everyone would be good and slugged out. Still, he could not risk his horse to be found missing, so he set out on foot. That would be a couple hours journey each way to town and back and time to roust the marshal and tell him what was going on out there. Long way and a nervous long time to be gone. He figured there were a few farmhouses on the way where he might rightly quietly "borrow" a horse. For the innoce...

When marshal Ben Wright
When Marshal Ben Wright with shotgun across his lap, rode up with his two men to the Lacey homestead, Frank Brown was up on the porch bench with his guitar again, playing for the benefit of a couple of girls.
My pal was as straight a young puncher,
So honest and upright and square.
He wound up a gambler and gunman
A woman it was sent him there.
Ben recognised one of them as Sutton's girl, Linzie. Her older sister Ila would be there with her. Back in the house, he figured. Sutton had best star...

Sam Caldwell looks around the Red Boot Saloon, knowing
Sam Caldwell looks around the Red Boot Saloon, knowing that trouble must be close-by. Trouble and the Red Boot Saloon are like two inseparable twin boys. Now that Caldwell has been made a Deputy, he is on track to his goal of becoming a Town Marshal one day. He wants to make his mark. So he goes looking for trouble. Not to start it, but to end it. The gambling tables have a few sad men loitering around. They are a popular spot for men who came to Flintwood during the boom years, wanting to find ...

Alone at the office, Deputy Wilson
Alone at the office, Deputy Wilson sits at his desk watching the jail cells. He’s bored. And pissed off. The Marshal never takes him seriously. He respects that annoying young upstart Caldwell more. Wilson fought in the civil war. Has the scars to prove it. What’s that bitch Caldwell ever done? Leaving him to “guard the cells.” There’s only one damn prisoner. And it’s a woman! He gets up, slams his hands on his desk and then paces the room.
Today’s sole prisoner — a girl providing her services a...

Over the sound of his own anima
Over the sound of his own animal grunts, Deputy Wilson does not hear Seth Madsen enter the Marshal’s office. Madsen walks past the empty duty-officer’s desk and looks beyond the wall towards the cells. He smiles. It seems one of the Deputies is putting on a show for him. Sally is pushed against the wall, and by the time she sees Madsen over Wilson’s shoulder he is standing inside the cell with arms raised, pointing both of his Colt Dragoon revolvers towards Wilson’s back. He shoots. He doesn’t t...

Marshal Wright returns to
Marshal Wright returns to his office, fuming that he let both men get away. He wanted to end this feud once and for all. He walks through the entrance closest to his office, but goes past it, wanting to check on Deputy Wilson. But there is nobody at the duty-officers station and rounding the corner he sees that neither is Wilson at his own desk. He turns to his left and sees Wilson’s body face down in the wide-open cell, his uniform red with blood that has flowed onto the floor. As well as the b...

“I ought not have left him alone,” Marshal Wright said
“I ought not have left him alone,” Marshal Wright said, staring at the dead man on his jail’s floor. “I ought not’ve deputised him in the first place.”
Deputy Murphy shook his head. “Head strong, he was. Like a mule—tough too. Nothin’ you could’ve done to stop this—there’d just have been two bodies instead of one..”
The Marshal grunted, but didn’t argue the point. He plucked a blanket from the first cell, still rumpled from William Lacey’s abbreviated stay, and laid it over Bob Wilson’s corpse. ...

Marshal Wright burst through the mayor’s front door
Marshal Wright burst through the mayor’s front door into the waiting room.
“Mayor, we need some - what the damn hell?”
His brow furrowed and he poked his head into the office proper. Nobody was within. Not here in the ante room.  Not here in the Mayor’s office.
“Damnation.”  He sighed into his chest.
The office was as good a place as any to hold up for a while. He doubted the Jackson-Madsen gang would come looking for him here, and the Mayor’s chair did look mighty comfortable.
Settling his sore...

The morning came sudden
The morning came sudden and fierce. Dew and the night’s cold embrace chilled Marshal Wright to the bone. He flexed his fingers. His hands were stiff. If he were in a fight this morning he’d be in a very rough patch. At least he had one thing working in his favour. The gang of killers were late night drinkers and early morning sleepers. He felt safe enough to swing by the inn and borrow a biscuit and bacon, and enough coffee to keep his hands loose. The Mayor could wait, for there were some thing...

Finding out that Catherine was his boss's daughter
Finding out that Catherine was his boss's daughter, years ago, had been hard for Ben. There's always a line, whether you're working on a ranch or you're saving Flintwood from the worst boys and men west of the Mississippi. But, thankfully, Marshal Donley hadn't seem too worried, if only because he smiled and said that his thoughts were the least of Ben's problems. And how true that had been.
Why his thoughts were drifting to Catherine, when his remaining deputies had quit, was troubling. She...

Although uneventful, the ride
Although uneventful, the ride back into town had heightened Ben's nerves, and as he rounded the corner of 2nd Street and Fremont Avenue, he spied George's hat in the window of the Red Boot Saloon and automatically yelled out his name. But thankfully no one heard him. His voice had almost cracked, like a schoolboy, because the pressure of the remaining bandits was getting to him. He needed to get his posse back together. He let Kate meander her way towards the Saloon, before finally getting off, ...

Ben knew that his other
Ben knew that his other former Deputy, Sam Caldwell, would be drinking alone and possibly sleeping, wherever he could find a safe berth. Some people liked houses and the like, some people could afford houses and the like, but Ben had a suspicion that Sam was neither of these people.
Ben saw Kate feeling his own anxiety and emotions, in the way that she began to wobble and meander as she walked. They were connected, which usually made Ben feel better, but now all he wanted was to calm his mare. M...

“Sure is quiet in there, Marshal
“Sure is quiet in there, Marshal.”
“Yeah, quiet. Too quiet.”
Caldwell looked at Wright. “I wonder what they’re up to.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out. We’ll just have to get in there and see.”
Wright looked at Caldwell and saw fear in his eyes; it echoed the fear that Wright felt. Neither man moved.
“Maybe we could use some help,” Caldwell whispered, “Did you ever hear tell of Sweet Betsy from Pike?”
“Isn’t she the one who crossed the wide prairie with her lover Ike?”
“Yep, that’s her. ...

The clapboard siding of the Marshal’s Office splintered
The clapboard siding of the Marshal’s Office splintered one last time as a final bullet spat out by the gang’s retreat tore into it.
Wright raised the Spencer repeater back to his shoulder and took aim. “Dammit.” He could barely make out silhouettes in the dim light. Never mind the notion of missing—he might just as well hit Caldwell as one them bastards and he was plumb short of deputies at the moment.
He watched the gang retreat further into the darkness, the drumming hoof beats of their hors...

Half an hour later, the steady, s
Half an hour later, the steady, still-distant, sound of horses’ hooves stopped. Wright reined in Kate and listened. The breeze brought a hint of voices punctuated by bursts of raucous laughter. Have they stopped? They’re still well shy of the mines. The Marshal dismounted. They had closed the gap to four to five hundred yards, close enough to hear, yet far enough away to not be seen. From this point on it was all about stealth. This wasn’t the best country for sneaking around—unless you were Ind...

Clearing the hills,
Clearing the hills, Wright spurred the mare to a modest gallop back toward Flintwood. Jackson and Madsen probably wouldn’t bother chasing him tonight, even though he’d deprived them of their morbid fun. Poor Caldwell. At least he didn’t leave a wife and children that would need looking after. Mayhap I should ride straight on to Tuscon and let his parents and that sister of his know directly. Maybe even stay a while. Might be a blessing, in Bird’s eyes, to be rid of me.

Peace was never a dog you could train gentle, thought
Peace was never a dog you could train gentle, thought Mayor Bird. The swinging and twitching corpse of the deputy, as seen through the dusted panes of glass in the Wells Fargo bank, did little to sway his mind otherwise. Powder smoke had accumulated around the deserted bank, glowing across the billows, as numerous windows from residences around the building went from black to tallow yellow. Even from here, he could hear shuffling and muffling behind curtains. “Get down!” a woman husked out loudl...

All was quiet yet, and
All was quiet yet, and dark, when Mayor Bird crept up on his home. Although the town had lit up, those folks living up the road were only gradually awakening. Worryingly, the geography and wind occasionally parted to reveal the sound of a thundering horse. At times it seemed all around him, but that was some minutes ago. Now he was back. Relief, and a sense of success, brought a sigh out of him as he crossed the clearing to the back of the house.
The cellar door erupted upward with avian suddenn...

I remember the day
I remember the day.
The door slammed behind me. Hard. The blaze of the sun overhead extended a hand to shake. I ignored it. There I was, Marshal Wright, stopped at the edge of the boardwalk in front of my old office, rocking back on my heals, then forward before I stepped off into the hard,sun-baked street. My attention turned in the direction of a patch of pale yellow as it swished back and forth down the street toward the Red Boot.
Cathrine.
Plop!
Something hit my hat. I reached up to remove w...

Cover

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Praise (Complete)
Praise for Novel-in-a-Day
“This was a GREAT exercise before NaNoWriMo! I most certainly want to participate with NIAD next year.”
“I thoroughly enjoyed being a part of this first NIAD… it was a fabulous experience.”
“It was a great deal of fun…I've never written and edited fiction at that kind of frenzied pace, but it was exhilarating.”
“This really was a fun project that I hope we can do again.”
“I had fun doing it, and I gather that the rest of the authors did, too.”
“More than reading the boo...

Full Title Page









Marshal Law

written as a
Novel-in-a-Day

Copyright


MARSHAL LAW

Originally published: 2015

Copyright © 2015 Various Authors
Mark Rothwell, Ryker Hayes, Kimberlee Gerstma
Liz Carmel, M. Peyton Culbertson, David Johnson
Chris Lozac’h, Jaysen O’Dell, Sue Cowling
Linda Weeks, N.D. Robitaille, Raymond Xander
Coral Russell, Heather Lovelace-Gilpin, Ron Ward
Stila Webb , Eric Christiansen, Waleed Ovase, Dave Scheffler
J.D. Salt, Ioa Petra’ka, Wolf Baginski
Story by: Tim Rogers

The moral rights of the authors have been asserted.

All characters and ...

Introduction

Introduction
In November of every year, writers and would-be writers from all over the planet sign up for National Novel Writing Month, a now-famous event among graphophiles in which participants try to write a 50,000-word novel in a mere 30 days. The intention is not the production of high quality prose, but rather the provision of an artificial deadline and target that forces the writer to get something written every day - leaden words that can always be turned into gold later.
In 2011, a ma...

Also by


Also by Novel-in-a-Day:

The Dark
Lunar520
Made Man
Section7







www.novelinaday.com

Title Page









Marshal Law

Spacer

Cover

Spacer

Praise (Complete)
Praise for Novel-in-a-Day
“This was a GREAT exercise before NaNoWriMo! I most certainly want to participate with NIAD next year.”
“I thoroughly enjoyed being a part of this first NIAD… it was a fabulous experience.”
“It was a great deal of fun…I've never written and edited fiction at that kind of frenzied pace, but it was exhilarating.”
“This really was a fun project that I hope we can do again.”
“I had fun doing it, and I gather that the rest of the authors did, too.”
“More than reading the boo...

Full Title Page









Marshal Law

written as a
Novel-in-a-Day

Copyright


MARSHAL LAW

Originally published: 2015

Copyright © 2015 Various Authors
Mark Rothwell, Nick Calvert, Michael Bywater
Liz Carmel, Alana Warlick, David Johnson
Barry Lynch, Ian Philpot, Rita Catching
Niles Cordes, N.D. Robitaille, Corinne Morier
Coral Russell, Greg Ray, Jake Bennie, R. Dale Guthrie
Eric Christiansen, Waleed Ovase, Pete Becker
J.D. Salt, Ioa Petra’ka, Montrée Whiles
Story by: Tim Rogers

The moral rights of the authors have been asserted.

All characters and events in this publ...

Introduction

Introduction
In November of every year, writers and would-be writers from all over the planet sign up for National Novel Writing Month, a now-famous event among graphophiles in which participants try to write a 50,000-word novel in a mere 30 days. The intention is not the production of high quality prose, but rather the provision of an artificial deadline and target that forces the writer to get something written every day - leaden words that can always be turned into gold later.
In 2011, a ma...

Also by


Also by Novel-in-a-Day:

The Dark
Lunar520
Made Man
Section7







www.novelinaday.com

Title Page









Marshal Law

Spacer

Cover

Spacer

Praise (Complete)
Praise for Novel-in-a-Day
“This was a GREAT exercise before NaNoWriMo! I most certainly want to participate with NIAD next year.”
“I thoroughly enjoyed being a part of this first NIAD… it was a fabulous experience.”
“It was a great deal of fun…I've never written and edited fiction at that kind of frenzied pace, but it was exhilarating.”
“This really was a fun project that I hope we can do again.”
“I had fun doing it, and I gather that the rest of the authors did, too.”
“More than reading the boo...

Full Title Page









Marshal Law

written as a
Novel-in-a-Day

Copyright


MARSHAL LAW

Originally published: 2015

Copyright © 2015 Various Authors
Alyssa Judson, Julia Pierce, Rebecca Schuster
Hyla Maddalena, Adela Torres, Michael Roberts
Chris Lozac’h, Jaysen O’Dell, Sue Cowling
Linda Weeks, B. Morris Allen, Keith Blount
Lazey Winde, Heather Lovelace-Gilpin, Tim Edwards-Hart
Mike Devitt, Charlie Novak, S.R. Martin, J.A. Bell
J.D. Salt, B. Michelle Morris, Claire Woodier
Story by: Tim Rogers

The moral rights of the authors have been asserted.

All characters and e...

Introduction

Introduction
In November of every year, writers and would-be writers from all over the planet sign up for National Novel Writing Month, a now-famous event among graphophiles in which participants try to write a 50,000-word novel in a mere 30 days. The intention is not the production of high quality prose, but rather the provision of an artificial deadline and target that forces the writer to get something written every day - leaden words that can always be turned into gold later.
In 2011, a ma...

Also by


Also by Novel-in-a-Day:

The Dark
Lunar520
Made Man
Section7







www.novelinaday.com

Title Page









Marshal Law

Spacer

Praise for Novel-in-a-Day
Praise for Novel-in-a-Day
“This was a GREAT exercise before NaNoWriMo! I most certainly want to participate with NIAD next year.”
“I thoroughly enjoyed being a part of this first NIAD… it was a fabulous experience.”
“It was a great deal of fun…I've never written and edited fiction at that kind of frenzied pace, but it was exhilarating.”
“This really was a fun project that I hope we can do again.”
“I had fun doing it, and I gather that the rest of the authors did, too.”
“More than reading the boo...

Title Page
Marshal Law

written as a
Novel-in-a-Day

Copyright
MARSHAL LAW

Originally published: 2015

Copyright © 2015 Various Authors
Mark Rothwell, Ryker Hayes, Kimberlee Gerstma
Liz Carmel, M. Peyton Culbertson, David Johnson
Chris Lozac’h, Jaysen O’Dell, Sue Cowling
Linda Weeks, N.D. Robitaille, Raymond Xander
Coral Russell, Heather Lovelace-Gilpin, Ron Ward
Stila Webb , Eric Christiansen, Waleed Ovase, Dave Scheffler
J.D. Salt, Ioa Petra’ka, Wolf Baginski
Story by: Tim Rogers

The moral rights of the authors have been asserted.

All characters and ev...

Introduction
Introduction
In November of every year, writers and would-be writers from all over the planet sign up for National Novel Writing Month, a now-famous event among graphophiles in which participants try to write a 50,000-word novel in a mere 30 days. The intention is not the production of high quality prose, but rather the provision of an artificial deadline and target that forces the writer to get something written every day - leaden words that can always be turned into gold later.
In 2011, a man ...

Also by
Also by Novel-in-a-Day:

The Dark
Lunar520
Made Man
Section7

www.novelinaday.com

Marshal Law
Marshal Law

Praise for Novel-in-a-Day
Praise for Novel-in-a-Day
“This was a GREAT exercise before NaNoWriMo! I most certainly want to participate with NIAD next year.”
“I thoroughly enjoyed being a part of this first NIAD… it was a fabulous experience.”
“It was a great deal of fun…I've never written and edited fiction at that kind of frenzied pace, but it was exhilarating.”
“This really was a fun project that I hope we can do again.”
“I had fun doing it, and I gather that the rest of the authors did, too.”
“More than reading the boo...

Title Page
Marshal Law

written as a
Novel-in-a-Day

Copyright
MARSHAL LAW

Originally published: 2015

Copyright © 2015 Various Authors
Mark Rothwell, Nick Calvert, Michael Bywater
Liz Carmel, Alana Warlick, David Johnson
Barry Lynch, Ian Philpot, Rita Catching
Niles Cordes, N.D. Robitaille, Corinne Morier
Coral Russell, Greg Ray, Jake Bennie, R. Dale Guthrie
Eric Christiansen, Waleed Ovase, Pete Becker
J.D. Salt, Ioa Petra’ka, Montrée Whiles
Story by: Tim Rogers

The moral rights of the authors have been asserted.

All characters and events in this public...

Introduction
Introduction
In November of every year, writers and would-be writers from all over the planet sign up for National Novel Writing Month, a now-famous event among graphophiles in which participants try to write a 50,000-word novel in a mere 30 days. The intention is not the production of high quality prose, but rather the provision of an artificial deadline and target that forces the writer to get something written every day - leaden words that can always be turned into gold later.
In 2011, a man ...

Also by
Also by Novel-in-a-Day:

The Dark
Lunar520
Made Man
Section7

www.novelinaday.com

Marshal Law
Marshal Law

Praise for Novel-in-a-Day
Praise for Novel-in-a-Day
“This was a GREAT exercise before NaNoWriMo! I most certainly want to participate with NIAD next year.”
“I thoroughly enjoyed being a part of this first NIAD… it was a fabulous experience.”
“It was a great deal of fun…I've never written and edited fiction at that kind of frenzied pace, but it was exhilarating.”
“This really was a fun project that I hope we can do again.”
“I had fun doing it, and I gather that the rest of the authors did, too.”
“More than reading the boo...

Title Page
Marshal Law

written as a
Novel-in-a-Day

Copyright
MARSHAL LAW

Originally published: 2015

Copyright © 2015 Various Authors
Alyssa Judson, Julia Pierce, Rebecca Schuster
Hyla Maddalena, Adela Torres, Michael Roberts
Chris Lozac’h, Jaysen O’Dell, Sue Cowling
Linda Weeks, B. Morris Allen, Keith Blount
Lazey Winde, Heather Lovelace-Gilpin, Tim Edwards-Hart
Mike Devitt, Charlie Novak, S.R. Martin, J.A. Bell
J.D. Salt, B. Michelle Morris, Claire Woodier
Story by: Tim Rogers

The moral rights of the authors have been asserted.

All characters and eve...

Introduction
Introduction
In November of every year, writers and would-be writers from all over the planet sign up for National Novel Writing Month, a now-famous event among graphophiles in which participants try to write a 50,000-word novel in a mere 30 days. The intention is not the production of high quality prose, but rather the provision of an artificial deadline and target that forces the writer to get something written every day - leaden words that can always be turned into gold later.
In 2011, a man ...

Also by
Also by Novel-in-a-Day:

The Dark
Lunar520
Made Man
Section7

www.novelinaday.com

Marshal Law
Marshal Law