“Mayhap ye could tell the marshal why ye were in Wooden,” suggested MacDonald.
“Ah was lookin" for my folks. We used to live thar, out of town a piece.”
MacDonald smiled. “Aye, and yere sister, Margareatha, twas she with ye? Do ye ken where she tis now?”
The boy stood open-mouthed and bewildered. He ran his eyes over the six-foot nine, two hundred and ninety-five pound giant in front of him. His questions had so rattled him that he answered without thinking. “She"s in Carson City too.”
“Good Gar, nay with O"Neal?” The shocked question exploded.
The boy"s eyes had hardened again. “Who the hell are y"all? Ah"d sure as hell remember somebody as big…” The voice trailed off and the grey eyes softened for the first time. “There was a big man who useta ride me on his shoulders.” He looked at
