CHAPTER 9A LONG TRAIL
Barry Litton had been delayed at the jail by the sheriff, who persuaded him to accept a deputy’s badge.
“Why,” said the sheriff, “you’re doin’ a deputy’s job right now. And you’re doin’ it doggone good. When the Morgans get through with this mess they’re gonna remember barbed wire. They’re gonna be laughed at by the whole range, and there ain’t nothing like laughter to boil down the size of a fathead. Wait till I swear you in. A coupla deputies like you, and I’ll have this chunk of the range comin’ to church of a Sunday!”
There on the spot he swore in Barry Litton and pinned a badge inside the lapel of his coat. It was a moment which the sheriff would have reason to remember, and so would the entire county, and other counties beyond.
On the steps of the jail they
