Hoffman nodded. "That, big boy, is just exactly what I mean."
Slow anger and resentment ate at Meek. Who was this Hoffman to order him out of Asteroid City? This was a free Solar System, wasn't it? No wonder the Rev. Brown was jittery. No wonder the decent people wanted a clean-up.
Meek's anger mounted, a cold deadly anger that shook him like a frigid hand. An anger that almost frightened him, for very seldom in his life had he been really angry.
He rose slowly from the table, hitched his gun belt to a comfortable position.
"The town's been without a marshal for a long time, hasn't it?" he asked.
Hoffman's laugh boomed out. "You bet it has. And it's going to stay that way. The last one took it on the lam. The one before that got killed. The one before that sort of disappeared...."
Meek spoke slowly, weak eyes burning.
"Horrible condition," he said. "Something's got to be done about it."
The streets were deserted, quiet, a deadly quiet that lurked and hovered, waiting for something to happen.