Frank Moran: Would advise taking up matter with new sheriff. Know him to
be capable man. Must get action soon or relinquish the case, because it
is taking too long to suit the Department. My regards to the sheriff.
(Signed) Long.
“‘Shorty’ Long, U. S. marshal, eh?” smiled Skeeter Bill, handing back
the letter. “Yeah, I sure know him.”
“Good old Shorty,” nodded Moran. “He’s sure a white man.”
“Yeah,” nodded Skeeter thoughtfully. “Shorty sure is. Yuh never happened
to hear him tell about the time he herded sheep down in Sundance Flats,
did yuh?” Skeeter laughed softly.
“No, he never told me about it,” grinned Moran. “But one of his deputies
started to tell me the story one day, and somethin’ interrupted him; so
I never heard it.”
“Well, you git him to tell yuh,” laughed Skeeter. “I’d only spoil it.”
“I sure will,” grinned Moran. “Well, I’ll mosey along. Probably drop in
here in a few days and see what you’ve found out. In case yuh write to
Long, tell him I’m doin’ the best I can. Yuh might explain what I’m up
against, Sheriff. I’ve tried to show ’em, but they probably don’t
understand.
“In another letter he suggests sendin’ in another man to help me, but
that would only complicate matters, don’tcha see. These counterfeiters
are always lookin’ for Government men, and they’d be suspicious of a
stranger.”
“That’s a cinch,” nodded Skeeter. “I’ll see what I can find out and let
yuh know. If it was rustlers or bank robbers, I’d stand a show; but bad
money is sure a new proposition to me.” He shook hands with Moran, who
went back up the street. Skeeter sat down and squinted at Kaintuck, who
was still tearing cigaret papers and spilling tobacco.
“How long do yuh reckon it’ll take yuh to learn to roll one cigaret
one-handed, Kaintuck?” he asked curiously.
“How long?” Kaintuck grinned lazily. “Well, I dunno, Skeeter. Prob’ly as
long as it’ll take you to catch a counterfeiter.”
“I’m scared yo’re goin’ to waste a lot of tobacco, cowboy.”
“And yo’re goin’ to waste a lot of time, Skeeter.”
“Time don’t mean nothin’ on this job,” laughed Skeeter. “I’m goin’ to be
here for two years.”
* * * * *
It was Skeeter’s first month as sheriff of Moon River County, and the
job was still a mystery to him. He knew nothing of clerical work.
Kaintuck Kennedy knew even less than Skeeter Bill.
Even the election was a surprize to Skeeter. He had not expected to be
elected. In fact he had won by eleven votes, which was a substantial
majority in Moon River.
Skeeter was tall, thin, and with a serious expression. But he was not
always serious. Back of those level gray eyes and inquisitive eyebrows
was an over-developed sense of humor, and he had the faculty of wearing
the same expression under all conditions.