"But," protested Meek, "you don't understand."
"Five years ago," the Rev. Brown went on, disregarding him, "I would have hesitated to pit force against force. It is not my way nor the way of the church ... but for five years I've tried to bring the gospel to this place, have worked for better conditions and each year I see them steadily getting worse."
"This could be a swell place," enthused Smith, "if we could get rid of the undesirables. Fine opportunities. Capital would come in. Decent people could settle. We could have some civic improvements. Maybe a Rotary club."
Meek wiggled his toes despairingly.
"You would earn the eternal gratitude of Asteroid City," urged the Rev. Brown. "We've tried it before but it never worked."
"They always killed our man," Smith explained, "or he got scared, or they bought him off."
"We never had a man like you before," the Rev. Brown declared. "Luke Blaine is a notorious gunman. No one, ever before, has been able to beat him to...."
"There must be some mistake," insisted Meek. "I'm just a bookkeeper. I don't know a thing...."
"We'd swear you in as marshal," said Smith. "The office is vacant now. Has been for three months or more. We can't find anyone to take it."
"But I'm not staying long," protested Meek. "I'm leaving pretty soon. I just want to try to get a look at the Asteroid Prowler and scout around to see if I can't find some old rocks I read about once."