The six duster clad riders appeared at the top of the rise as the stagecoach pulled away from the house. Cade Fallon watched four horses being led toward the barn where another horse was being shod near a small blacksmith forge outside the door. A woman beat a rug draped over a clothesline between the house and the barn and a man with a horse harnessed to a plow worked a field north of the house.

Anson "Pop" Decker stepped his horse beside Fallon and spit a trail of tobacco juice into the grass. "Sodbusters."

Fallon looked over at Decker. "And a way station for the stage line. Got some pretty good horses in that corral."

"Let's go get 'em" said Decker and spit again.

Fallon heeled his horse forward and led the riders single file down the rise. They spread out behind him as they walked their horses into the yard.

The man at the forge dropped the hoof he'd been shoeing and walked toward the riders. "Howdy, what can I do for ya?"

"Horse threw a shoe. Wondered if you could fix him up with another," said Fallon.

"Sure thing." The man gestured for Fallon to follow him to the barn. He pumped the forge bellows twice and then turned back to Fallon who shot him twice in the chest.

The woman beating the rug screamed when she saw the man sink to the ground and then ran into the house. The man from the field ran into the yard and Pop Decker shot him three times. He smiled and spit a tobacco stream when the man slid in the dirt on his face. The four men behind Fallon and Decker dismounted and strode into the house.

The outlaw leader replaced the spent shells in his gun and dropped it into its holster. He turned his horse back toward the house and he and Pop hitched their horses to the rail and followed the men into the house.

Texas Ranger Dusty Nichols took the fixings from his shirt pocket and rolled a quirley. He stuck it in his mouth and searched his pocket for a match. He flicked the match with his thumbnail, lit the quirley and threw the match to the ground. He took a long drag of the quirley and looked over at his partner, Billy Collier, his chin against his chest, bobbing rhythmically with the gait of his horse. Dusty glanced up to see his dog, Toby, scamper back and forth in front of them. Movement from Billy regained his attention.

"Have a good sleep?" Dusty asked his bleary eyed partner and offered him the rest of his smoke.

Billy sucked on the quirley. "I must have dozed a little," he said, leaking smoke as he replied. "How far are we from Sweetwater?"

Before Dusty could answer, gunfire broke out in the distance. Toby raced ahead of them toward the sound.

"Sounds like someone's in trouble," said Billy.

As one, the two companions spurred their mounts to the top of the rise. Toby was already there looking at the scene below when they arrived and looked up at Dusty with an excited whine. Six riders, bandannas covering the bottom half of their faces, sat in front of a stagecoach with their guns drawn. They watched as the guard threw the shotgun to the ground.

"Think those are our boys?" asked Billy.

Dusty pulled his Henry rifle from the saddle boot and levered a shell into the chamber. "Only one way to find out," he said and put the rifle to his shoulder.

He fired as the nearest outlaw was herding the passengers out of the stage. The bullet slammed into the stage above the horse's head causing him to rear, dumping his rider into the dirt. The other outlaws looked up at the rise to see Toby and Billy racing toward them with Dusty following close behind.

"Let's get outta here," said the leader, watching the downed outlaw try to remount his skittish horse. The mounted bandits turned their horses and galloped away in the opposite direction as bullets buzzed around them. Finally getting control of his horse, the last outlaw followed. Toby sprinted on after the outlaws, but soon returned when he realized Dusty and Billy weren't behind him.

"Anybody hurt?" asked Billy when the two lawmen reached the stagecoach.

"We're alright up here," said the driver. The guard nodded in agreement.

"You folks okay?" said Dusty

"Thanks to you boys," said one of the passengers.

Dusty reached down from his saddle to pick up the shotgun and handed it back to the guard atop the stagecoach. "That the bunch that's been causin' trouble in these parts?"

"Same ones, 'ceptin' they didn't get nothin' this time," said the driver.

"You headed to Sweetwater?" said Billy.

"Sure are, we was s'posed to been there 'bout two hours ago."

"Mind if we ride along?" asked Dusty.

"Be obliged, them boys might come back to try and finish what they started" replied the driver.

When the passengers settled back in the stagecoach, the driver slapped the ribbons and cursed the four-horse team into motion. With a Ranger on either side and Toby perched atop the stagecoach, they headed for the town of Sweetwater.

The visored ticket agent walked out onto the platform as Hunk Wofford halted the stagecoach in front of the depot. Hunk wrapped the reins around the brake lever and climbed down from his seat, slapping the dust from his clothes.

"Any trouble, Hunk?" asked the agent.

"Yeah, there was, Harley, but thanks to these boys you still got a full strongbox," said Hunk as Dusty and Billy rode up to the platform.

Harley Kitchum looked up at the two Rangers. "Much obliged. With all the trouble we've had, the powers that be are looking to post an extry guard in the coach with the passengers."

"Might be a good idea," said Dusty.

"You boys stop by the saloon later and I'll buy you a drink," said Hunk, sending a stream of tobacco juice into the street.

The two Rangers waved at the driver as they turned their horses. "Where to now?" asked Billy.

"A room and a meal. Then we're gonna collect that drink we was promised. After that we got killers to find."

They dismounted in front of the Sweetwater Hotel, hitched their horses and stepped up on the boardwalk into the open double doors. "We'd like a couple of rooms," said Dusty.

The clerk leaned over the desk to look at Toby sitting next to Dusty. "Who's he staying with?"

"He'll be with me," said Dusty.

"It'll cost you extra if he does any damage," said the clerk, looking at Dusty over the spectacles perched on the end of his nose. Dusty signed the register and then handed the pen to Billy.

"That'll be two dollars each. That includes the use of the bath at the end of the hall," said the clerk. The lawmen each put two silver dollars on the desk and the clerk slid two room keys across to them.

"We'll stable the horses and then come back for a bath and a meal," said Dusty. They put the keys in their pockets and stepped out onto the boardwalk. A gathering of riders had begun to assemble across the street.

"What's up, old timer?" Billy asked the old man sitting in a chair outside the hotel.

"Marshal's getting a posse together to go after them jaspers what tried to rob the stage," replied the old man. Billy looked over a Dusty. "Might be the boys we're lookin' for."

"Guess the bath is gonna have to wait," said Dusty. Both men stepped off the boardwalk, unhitched their horses and stepped up into their saddles.

"Good huntin', boys. Wish I could go with you," said the old man. Dusty and Billy touched fingers to their hats and walked their horses across the street to the Marshal's Office.

"Got room for two more?" asked Dusty from the back of the cluster of men.

Hunk Wofford stood on the boardwalk next to Marshal Cooper Smith and pointed at the two Rangers.. "Them's the two boys that saved my bacon today, Coop."

Marshal Smith looked up at Dusty and Billy with a smile. "Always got room on my posse for a couple of Texas Rangers."

The Marshal stepped off the boardwalk, unhitched his sorrel and climbed into the saddle. He turned his horse toward his twelve-man posse. "Stay together, men. They've got a couple hours head start on us, but we'll do what we can." He pointed toward Dusty and Billy. "I want you boys up front with me."

When Dusty, Toby, and Billy maneuvered up beside Cooper Smith, the posse thundered out of Sweetwater leaving a swirling dust cloud settling behind them. They followed the road until they came to the spot of the attempted holdup where Marshal Smith halted his posse.

"We was on the rise when we come up on the holdup," said Dusty, recalling the scenario for Cooper Smith.

"They took off west," said Billy, pointing in the direction the retreating outlaws had fled.

The Marshal dismounted, walking around the still visible tracks of the stagecoach and then walked to where the tracks of the six riders left the road.

"Find 'em, Toby," said Dusty.

The big brown dog started sniffing around the stagecoach tracks and followed the tracks of the six riders when they left the road. Dusty and Billy followed behind Toby and Cooper Smith waved the posse forward behind them. When the tracks disappeared over the rocky ground, Toby lifted his head, looked back at Dusty and sat down.

"He's lost 'em," said Dusty and walked his horse up beside Toby. "Find 'em, boy."

Dusty watched as Toby put his nose to the ground again trying to pick up the trail. After a couple of minutes, the big dog sat down and looked over at Dusty.

"We lost 'em," said Dusty when he rode back to Cooper Smith and the posse.

"We'll end it now," said the Marshal. "We'll head on back to Sweetwater."

It was late afternoon when Cooper Smith halted the posse in front of his office. "I want to thank everyone who rode with me today. Sorry, we didn't have a better result. Go on home to your families."

The members of the posse waved at the Marshal as they dispersed and went their ways. Dusty and Billy rode to the livery, stabled their horses, and then made the short walk across the street to the hotel.

"Let's wash a little of this trail dust down first," said Billy as they walked into the hotel lobby. Half of the lobby served as the hotel bar with a number of tables surrounding a mahogany bar stretched along one wall.

They made their way up the stairs to their rooms, each took their turn taking a bath and then made their way back down the stairs to get their long awaited meal.

Hunk Wofford stood at the bar retelling of the stage holdup and waved at the two lawmen when he spotted Dusty and Billy coming down the stairs.

"Let it be known that Hunk Wofford is a man of his word," he said when the two Rangers reached the bottom of the stairs.. "Charlie," he said to the bartender, "give these two boys a beer on Ol' Hunk."

"You boys should feel fortunate," said Charlie, putting the overflowing mugs of beer on the bar in front of the two lawmen. "Hunk don't usually buy drinks for anybody but himself."

"Now, that ain't rightly so, Charlie," objected Hunk.

Charlie held out his hand, waving his fingers and pointing to the palm of his hand. "Pay up, Hunk." Dusty and Billy chuckled as Hunk reached into his pocket and put two coins into Charlie's palm.

"Zeke, tell Hunk how long it's been since he bought a drink," Charlie said to the man standing next to the stagecoach driver.

Zeke Bronson lifted his old, battered derby hat and scratched his head. "As I recollect, that must have been back when I was married to my second wife."

"And Zeke's been married four times," shouted someone from down the bar. The whole lobby erupted into laughter.

Hunk waved off the banter directed at him. "Don't pay no attention to them jugheads." Hunk turned up his mug and took a long swig until the laughter subsided. "You boys run them outlaws down?"

"Nah, tracks played out on the rocky ground," said Billy.

"That means I'll be seein' 'em again," replied Hunk.

Dusty and Billy finished their beers, waved at Hunk and stepped through the curtain separating the restaurant from the hotel to get their long overdue meal. They found a table against the wall near the door and ordered a plate of beef stew, biscuits and hot coffee.

"Daggone, that was a longtime comin'," said Billy, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach when he finished his supper. Dusty smiled as he finished what remained in his coffee mug.

"Mind if I join you?"

Dusty looked up at Cooper Smith and smiled. "Have a seat, Marshal. We were just about to have dessert."

They all ordered a slice of apple pie and Cooper ordered coffee while the Rangers got their mugs refilled.

"You goin' after them holdup men?" said Cooper, taking a bite of his pie..

Dusty nodded. "Might be who we're lookin' for."

"Fallon and his bunch?" said Cooper, getting another nod from Dusty. "What if it ain't them?"

"Then, I don't have an interest in them," said Dusty, shrugging his shoulders. "The only interest I have is seeing Farrell, Decker and the rest of his killers lying face down with my lead in 'em."

The look in the Ranger's eyes sent a chill through Cooper Smith. The Marshal suddenly realized Dusty Nichols would follow the outlaws to the ends of the earth to give them what they got coming to them.

"Mind if I tag along?" said Cooper.

"Glad to have ya," said Dusty. "Besides, if it ain't Fallon's bunch, you can bring 'em back to Sweetwater."

"Can I buy you boys a beer?" said Cooper.

"Lead the way," said Dusty.

The three lawmen left the dining room and made their way across the lobby to the bar. Cooper Smith ordered the beers, slapped three coins on the bar and nodded toward a gathered crowd around a corner table. "Let's go see what's so interesting."

They worked their way to the front of the crowd and saw two men sitting across the table from each other with uneven stacks of chips in the center of the table.

"Six of 'em started," whispered the old man next to Billy, "them's the only two left."

Billy recognized the two men at the table. The dapper dressed gambler, Nelson Riddell, sat at one side of the table, stacks of colored chips sitting in front of him and across from him, down to his last few chips, sat gunman Tate McCloud.

"Your play, Tate," said Riddell. He lit a cheroot and blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. McCloud fingered the small stack of chips in front of him, finally sliding it to join the mound of chips in the center of the table. "Let's see 'em, Riddell."

Nelson Riddell turned over the cards in front of him. "Three little ladies," he said, spreading three queens out on the table.

Tate McCloud picked up his cards and tossed five hearts, one by one, on top of Riddell's three queens. "Read 'em and weep," he said and raked the mound of chips to his side of the table.

"That's it for me," said McCloud, rising from his seat. He swept the chips into his hat, "You ain't never cleaned me out and I ain't about to let you tonight."

"There'll be another time, Tate," said Riddell, touching his fingers to his hat as the gunman carried his chips to the bar to cash them in.

Billy followed Tate McCloud to the bar. "Ain't you ever gonna git tired of losin' to Riddell?"

"Hello, Billy," said the gunman. "Oh, I've beat him a time or two. It's the competition, like going up against a faster gun."

"Like you really have to worry about that," replied Billy. "Tate, you know Dusty Nichols and Marshal Smith?"

McCloud looked past Billy and nodded at the two lawmen behind him. "We've crossed paths a time or two. Heard you was chasin' Cade Fallon and his bunch."

Dusty nodded. "Then you probably heard why."

"Yeah, I heard," said McCloud. "Bad as they are, I never thought I'd see the day Cade Fallon took to killin' women."

"We intend to put a stop to that," said Dusty.

The bartender cashed in Tate McCloud's chips and the gunman pushed a silver dollar back to the edge of the bar. "I'd like to buy these boys a shot of the good stuff, Charlie, and one for yourself." Charlie put five shot glasses in front of him, reached under the bar, uncorked a bottle and filled the glasses. Tate McCloud held his glass up in front of him, followed by each of the others in turn.

"To our health," said the gunman.

"And may Cade Fallon get what's comin' to him," added Billy Collier. The five men tossed down their drinks.

"If it will help you any," said McCloud, "I hear Fallon and his bunch spend their time in Whiskey Bend when they ain't killin' women."

"Much obliged," said Dusty.

"But, one suggestion," said McCloud, refilling their shot glasses. "Whiskey Bend is a town with very little law to speak of. If you want to be able to get off your horses, I'd get rid of those badges."

"Much obliged again," said Dusty, taking off his badge and slipping it into his pants pocket.

The next morning, Cooper Smith was waiting in the hotel lobby when Toby led Dusty Nichols and Billy Collier down the stairs. They retrieved their horses from the livery and followed Toby out of Sweetwater. They returned to the site of the stagecoach robbery and followed the tracks until they faded out on the rocky ground where Toby had earlier lost them.

"Where to now?" asked Billy.

Dusty pointed toward Toby out ahead of them searching the area ahead with his nose to the ground. After a couple of minutes, Toby lifted his head and barked at them. They heeled their horses and followed after him. "I guess we go that way," said Dusty.

They trotted along behind the big dog the rest of the morning until Toby slipped into a grove of trees. He was searching a campsite, nose to the ground, when the three lawmen reined up. They dismounted and joined in the search of the campsite. Cooper picked up a charred stick and stirred the ashes of the burned out fire.

"Think that's our boys," asked Billy.

"Hard to say," replied Cooper.

"Toby thinks so," said Dusty, pointing at the dog standing at the edge of the campsite wagging his tail and looking back at them. Toby barked and the lawmen remounted their horses.

"Find 'em, boy," said Dusty, sending the big dog loping through the trees. They heeled their horses and followed Toby from the grove.

Gathering storm clouds overhead accompanied the lawmen's arrival in Whiskey Bend. Their horses shied when a man burst through the batwings of the nearest saloon. He stumbled across the boardwalk and sprawled face first in the dusty street. A big, burly man with shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, followed the man to the edge of the boardwalk and threw a battered hat into the street beside him. "And don't come back in here!"

The big man gave the lawmen a frowned look as he lumbered back through the batwings. They looked at each other, smiled and reined their horses around the man in the street struggling to his knees.

They passed a saloon with three woman on its balcony in various stages of undress. One of them leaned over the rail giving them a full view. "You cowboys looking for some fun?"

"Nice friendly town," said Billy as they rode by.

They turned their horses in to the hitch rail in front of the hotel, dismounted and stepped across the boardwalk into the small hotel lobby. An attractive woman flipped around the registration book as they neared the desk. "We'd like rooms," said Dusty.

"That's usually why people come to a hotel, ain't it?" said the auburn haired woman. She tapped the register. "Sign the book."

She turned to the board behind her, removed three keys and slid them across the desk. She looked at Toby sitting behind Dusty. "He with you?"

"He won't be any trouble," said Dusty.

She walked around from behind the desk. "He friendly?"

"Friendly enough," said Dusty.

She knelt down beside Toby and scratched him behind the ears. "Haven't seen you in Whiskey Bend before," she said.

"Never been here before," said Dusty.

"Just passin' through?"

"Lookin' for some friends. They been seen now and again in Whiskey Bend."

She looked up at Cooper and Billy and then back at Dusty. "You're lawmen."

"Does it show that much?" said Billy.

She smiled and rose to her feet. "I've had a lot of practice. I been around lawmen my whole life." She held out her hand. "I'm Sally Dixon."

"You any kin to Pete Dixon," said Dusty, shaking hands with Sally.

"Pete was my brother. Shot down in the street of Whiskey Bend by one of Cade Fallon's bunch."

"Surprised you're still here," said Cooper.

A malevolent look crossed Sally's face. "I'll be here until Cade Fallon and all the killers that run with him are face down in the street."

"Is there any law at all in Whiskey Bend?" asked Dusty.

"If you want to call it that," said Sally. "Harold Bradley just sits all day getting drunk in his tight little office until Fallon shows up and then he pulls the shade and slithers out the back door. That's the law we have in Whiskey Bend."

"Maybe, we can change that," said Cooper. He motioned to Dusty and Billy. "Let's go pay our noble sheriff a visit."

They stepped from the hotel and strode down the boardwalk to the Sheriff's Office. Pete Dixon's name was crossed out and Harold Bradley's name was roughly painted under it. The lawmen looked at each other and stepped through the open door. Bradley sat snoring in his chair with his booted feet on the desk and a half bottle of whiskey resting between his legs.

Dusty shook his head and shouted, "Hey!"

Bradley stirred a bit, but was quickly snoring again. Cooper stepped behind the desk and kicked the back legs of the chair, sending Bradley toppling backwards to the floor. Bradley squinted at Cooper Smith when the Marshal bent over and unpinned the sheriff's star from his shirt.

"What're you doin'?" said Bradley, struggling to rise from the floor.

"There's new law in Whiskey Bend," said Dusty as he and Billy helped Bradley to his feet.

"Cade Fallon ain't gonna like this," said Bradley as he walked between the two Rangers toward the door.

"That's what we're countin' on," said Dusty as they pushed Bradley out the door. He stumbled across the boardwalk and sprawled in the street. Billy tossed the half empty whiskey bottle out the door and it landed beside the ex-sheriff.

Sally Dixon leaned against a post at the edge of the hotel boardwalk with her arms folded across her chest. She watched with a smug smile as Harold Bradley struggled to his feet. She uncrossed her arms and stepped back into the hotel. "About time," she whispered.

Billy Collier nailed the last of the signs to a post in front of the Sheriff's Office and stood back to read it. It had been three days since he, Dusty Nichols and Cooper Smith had settled in to the Sheriff's Office of Whiskey Bend.

"Banning guns should start the kettle boiling!" came a familiar voice from behind him.

Billy turned and almost didn't recognize Sally Dixon in her Levi's, cotton shirt and boots. A hat hung down her back by the chin cord and a thonged Colt was strapped around her waist. "That's what we want," said Billy.

"That's what Pete tried to do and it got him killed," said Sally. "You're gonna need some help and I want to offer mine."

Billy looked at Sally for a moment longer. "Let's go talk to Dusty."

Dusty Nichols and Cooper Smith had just finished putting up a long table in a corner of the office when Billy stepped through the door.

"Dusty," said Billy, "there's someone here wants to talk to you."

Dusty sat down on the edge of his desk and looked over at Cooper Smith with raised eyebrows when Sally stepped through the door. "What can I do for you, Sally?"

"You're gonna need some help when Fallon hears what's going on in Whiskey Bend. I want to help."

Dusty looked down at the floor scratching his head. "I don't know, Sally."

She grabbed the coffee mug from Dusty's desk and motioned for them to follow her to the back door of the office. "Follow me."

Sally held the door open for the three lawmen and handed the mug to Billy as he passed her. She pointed down the alley. "Go out about twenty paces and turn around."

Sally was standing facing Billy with her feet spread when he turned around. "Now hold the mug out at waist level and drop it when you're ready."

"Now wait a minute," said Dusty, stepping out between them.

Sally waved the Dusty out of the way. "Drop it, Billy!"

When Dusty back stepped, Billy stretched his arm out at waist level, locked eyes with Sally and released the mug.

In a blur of motion Sally drew her Colt and shattered the mug before it hit the ground. She thumbed out the spent shell and reloaded while the lawmen exchanged surprised looks. She dropped the Colt back in its holster and looked over at Dusty. "I could always move him farther away and shoot one off his head."

Billy waved off Sally's idea. "Dusty, just give her a badge. I'm sure she'll be fine."

Dusty looked at Cooper, sighed and then looked at Sally. "I've done some crazy things in my life and, under the circumstances, I can't help but do another. Come on, I'll get you a badge."

"Don't need it," said Sally, reaching into her pants pocket. She showed a badge to Dusty and pinned it on her shirt. "I'll use Pete's."

"What about the hotel?" said Cooper.

"Hotel's in good hands," said Sally. She pulled on the chin cord of her hat and put it on her head. "Now, are we gonna save Whiskey Bend or ain't we?"

And they wouldn't have to wait long.

The six riders galloped down the middle of Whiskey Bend's street firing their guns in the air, scattering the townspeople from the boardwalks. They turned their horses to the hitch rail in front of the saloon and dismounted.

Anson Decker stepped up on the boardwalk and read the warning poster. He jerked it down, ripped it in half and threw it in the street. They were all laughing as they pushed through the batwings.

"They're here," said Sally standing at the office window. "And it don't look like they're turning in their guns."

Dusty Nichols pulled two scatterguns from the gun rack and tossed one to Cooper. They checked the loads as they stepped to the door next to Sally.

"So, let's go get 'em," said Dusty.

The townspeople gradually reappeared as the foursome stepped off the boardwalk and crossed the street toward the saloon. They looked over the batwings and saw the six men strung out along the bar slopping whiskey in their glasses amid raucous laughter. They lawmen pushed through the batwings and spread out in front of the bar before Dusty fired a round into the ceiling. "Drop your gunbelts, boys."

Cade Fallon was about to take a drink when he stopped, looked toward the lawmen and smiled. "Well, what have we here?"

"New law in Whiskey Bend," said Dusty. "Now, we'll take the guns."

When the gunmen turned to face the lawmen, the bartender removed the large mirror from the wall behind him and ducked down behind the bar. Tables in the saloon overturned amid the rush to the door as the patrons sought cover.

Anson Decker smiled when he spotted Sally standing between the two Rangers. "I see you ain't learned from what happened to your brother, Missy."

"I'm nor worried about you, old man," said Sally, "I'm facing you."

The smile slowly faded from Decker's face and when it was gone he went for his gun. Sally cleared leather first and shot Decker in the chest. A hailstorm of shotgun blasts and gunfire ensued and was over as quick as it started.

The eyes of the bartender peeked over the top of the bar and took a slow look around the gunsmoke filled room. Curious heads peaked around overturned tables and through the parted batwings as the bartender stood up and stepped around the bar. Six men lay motionless on the floor.

Dusty, Sally and Cooper stood in front of him reloading their guns and Billy was cradling the arm of his blood stained left shoulder. "You okay, Billy?" said Dusty.

Billy nodded. "Winged me a little, is all. I been hit worse."

Sally looked over toward Anson Decker when he moaned and stirred. She thumbed back the hammer of her Colt as she stepped over to where the blood soaked outlaw was trying to sit up. "I don't know how you're still alive," she said.

Sally slowly raised her Colt when the semblance of a bloody smile started to appear on the outlaw's face. She looked him in the eyes, shot him in the forehead and calmly holstered her Colt.

"He was going for his gun," she said as she strode past her three companions..

Sally Dixon and Cooper Smith stood at the edge of the boardwalk in front of the Doctor's Office watching the undertaker remove the bodies from the saloon. "You okay?" said Cooper.

Sally gave him a slight smile and a nod. "I will be. I been waitin' a long time to do what I did today."

Cooper smiled and patted her back. "And you got your town back."

"Yeah," said Sally. "Too bad Pete ain't around to see it."

Dusty Nichols and Billy Collier, with his arm in a sling, stepped from the Doctor's Office and walked up on each side of them as the undertaker's wagon pulled away from the saloon.

"How's the arm?" said Cooper.

"Doc said I should be back to normal in a week or two," said Billy.

"We're gonna hang around until Whiskey Bend decides on a new sheriff," said Dusty. "By that time, he oughta be good as new."

"I guess that means I can return to Sweetwater," said Cooper.

"And I can return to my hotel," said Sally.

"We wish you wouldn't, Miss Sally."

Sally spun around to face two men that had walked up behind them. "Excuse, me?"

"What we mean is, Miss Sally, we need a new sheriff. And what we seen you do here today, the town would like you to stay on as sheriff. The badge does look pretty good on you."

A bewildered look appeared on Sally's face when she looked down at her brother's badge pinned to her shirt. She looked back up at the two men and realized there were a number of people standing in front of the saloon watching them. "What does the Mayor say?"

"He 's the one who let the bad things happen to Whiskey Bend. You let us worry about the Mayor. Will you stay on, Miss Sally?" The man extended his hand.

Sally looked at the three lawmen standing beside her. One by one, they nodded at the extended hand. "You'll do a great job," said Cooper.

She looked back at the man and shook his hand. "Okay, I'll do it," said Sally.

Dusty leaned over to Sally and whispered, "Pete would be proud."

Sally smiled and fingered the badge on her shirt.