CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Hanson stepped from behind the corner of the sheriff’s office and watched Destry disappear into the night. He guessed he was heading for either the livery or the guesthouse. There were no streetlights in the small town of Whitewater. A patch of yellow oozed from underneath the saloon doors on the opposite side of the street, and a trickle from between the shutters of the lumber office window. They were all he needed. He contemplated placing his neckerchief over his mouth as a form of disguise but dismissed the notion almost immediately. They’d recognize him easily enough as there was no one else of his size in the town. Besides, once this was done, who would ever listen to Destry and his wild ideas ever again?
He went through the door in a rush. The office was as befor
