"You've had enough," the doctor told him.
Frank closed the door and sat down at his desk, bringing his jail book up to date. He checked all his dodgers for one on Bud Chase. There were no wanted fliers on Bud, but he did find the dodger on Lou Manning. He wrote out a wire to send to the Texas Rangers.
He glanced at the wall clock. He still had a few minutes before he was due to meet Viv. Frank leaned back in the wooden swivel chair. He did not delude himself about the likelihood of getting back with Viv. His chances were slim to none. Their worlds were too far apart now, and Frank was man enough to admit that. But they would enjoy each other's company while they had the opportunity. After that? Well, only time would tell.
Frank looked in on the prisoners, giving them a cup of coffee if they wanted it, then closed and locked the door to the cell block. He had given Jerry a set of keys to all doors, so he locked the front door upon leaving, too.
He strolled down the boardwalk, taking his time and looking over the town in broad daylight. A few of the stores that had been boarded up were already in the process of being reopened, getting ready to rent. He had been told the bank owned them. Mayor Jenkins didn't miss a bet. If there was a dollar to be made, as banker he was going to get a part of it.
Already new people were coming in from tiny communities that were close by, all of the newcomers riding in. Soon the wagons would be rolling in, and when the permanent structures were all taken -- which wouldn't be long -- wooden frames would be erected, and canvas fastened in place, forming roofs and sides. There would be a dozen makeshift saloons and eating places and what have you thrown up in less than a week. Hurdy-gurdy girls would be working around the clock, and so would the gamblers, and both spelled trouble with a capital T.
Frank walked into the Henson Enterprises building and past the workers in the front office just as Viv was coming out of her rear office. She saw him and smiled.
"Be with you in a moment. Marshal," she called.
_All very proper and correct_, Frank thought. He looked behind him. Hal was standing in the outer office. They nodded at each other. Jimmy would be working the outside, Frank figured. Every hour or so the men would swap up.
Viv motioned for Frank to come into her office. She closed the door and stood facing him. "Are you all right, Frank?"
"I'm fine."
"Conrad told me about the shooting incident."
Frank shrugged that off. "Where is Conrad?"
"At the mine. For his age, he's really a very responsible young man. He knows the business."
"I'm sure he is, Viv, and I'm sure he's a big help. He just doesn't much care for me, that's all."
"Give him time. Maybe things will change."
"Maybe they will. We'll see. Ready to take a stroll through town?"
"That will set some tongues wagging."
"That bother you?"
"Not in the least. I'll get my parasol."
With Hal and Jimmy hanging back a respectable distance, the two began their leisurely walk. _The gunfighter and the lady_, Frank thought with a smile. _That would make a good title for a dime novel._
Heads did turn as the two walked slowly toward the Silver Spoon Cafe. Vivian was dressed in the height of Eastern fashion, and was a beautiful woman. Frank wondered why women toted around little parasols and didn't open them. What the hell was the point, anyway? The sky was a dazzling, clear blue, and it sure wasn't raining. Besides, he didn't figure the dainty little thing would even do much to keep off rain.
He concluded that he would never understand women.
"Town's being reborn," Viv remarked.
"Sure is. This your first boom town, Viv?"
"Yes."
"You ain't seen nothing yet. If this strike turns out to be as big as people are saying, there'll be a thousand more people packed in here before it's all over. Maybe more than that. It'll be a great big, sometimes uncontrollable, mess."
"You've worn a badge in other boom towns, Frank?"
"Yes. Several of them."
"I've tried to keep track of you over the years. But it hasn't been easy."
"I'm sure. I did move around a lot."
"And often disappeared for months at a time. Where did you go, and what did you do during those times?"
"Sometimes I worked on a ranch, under a false name."
"For thirty dollars a month?"
"Less than that a few times."
"But somebody would always come along who recognized you." It was not posed as a question.
"Yes. Or someone would get their hands on one of those damn books ... all of them nothing but a pack of lies."
"I've read all of them."
Frank cut his eyes to the woman walking by his side. "You're joking, of course?"
"No. I swear it's the truth. I had to hide them from my husband, and from Conrad." She smiled. "It was a deliciously naughty feeling."
"Oh? Reading the books about me, or hiding them from your family?"
She poked him in the ribs and giggled. "Did you really take up with a soiled dove named Hannah?"
"Oh, hell, no!" Frank chuckled. A few seconds later he said with a straight face, "Her name was Agnes."
This time Viv laughed aloud and grabbed Frank's arm. "And she died in your arms after stepping in front of a bullet that was meant for you?"
"Slowest bullet since the invention of guns, I reckon. Took that writer a whole page to get that bullet from one side of the room to the other."
"You read them, Frank?"
"Parts of some of them. I haven't read any of the newer ones."
"I have a confession to make."
"Oh?"
"The man who writes those novels was a good friend of my husband. He lives in Boston. He used to come over to the house quite often for croquet and dinner."
"Ummm. Is that so? How difficult was it for you to keep a straight face?"
"Terribly difficult."
Their conversation ground to an abrupt halt when they met a gaggle of ladies coming out of Willis's General Store. The ladies had to stop and chat for a few minutes with Vivian and oohh and aahh about her dress and hat. Frank stepped over to one side, rolled a cigarette, and smoked and waited for the impromptu hen party to end.
When the gossiping was over and the town's ladies had sashayed on their way, Viv smiled at Frank. "Sorry about that, Frank."
"It's all right. What in the world did you ladies talk about?"
"You, mostly."
"Me!"
"Yes. They wanted to know how I knew you."
"And what did you tell them?"
"The same thing I told Conrad: that I knew you years ago when you were a young cowboy."
"Conrad doesn't believe that."
"You know something?"
"What?"
"Those ladies didn't, either."
* * * *
By nightfall, thanks in no small part to the ladies who had chatted with Viv earlier, it was the talk of the town that Mrs. Vivian L. Browning, president of Henson Enterprises, was seeing the town marshal, Frank Morgan. Tongues were wagging in every store, home, saloon, and bawdy house.
Frank and Jerry saw that the prisoners were fed and locked down, and then made their early evening rounds.
"There is the first wagon coming in," Jerry said, looking up the street. "They must have traveled all night after hearing the news off the wire."