Fisher nodded, rose, and went to the door.
“Hey, fellers!” he called to the group outside. “Come inside; sheriff wants you.”
Five men trooped in, eyeing Fisher with uneasy glances. Sheriff Tracy, having made his decision, lost no time in putting the job through.
“This here,” he said, motioning to his visitor, “is Sam Fisher, sheriff o’ Pecos County. I’m about to swear him in as deputy and leave him in charge of things here. Fisher, you want these deputies to work with you?”
Sam Fisher eyed the group and smiled.
“Nope, I’m satisfied to play a lone hand, Tracy. Much obliged for the offer.”
“Very well. You boys can bear witness to this here affair, then you’re free. Hold up your hand, Fisher—”
Sam Fisher was duly sworn as deputy sheriff, and Tracy handed him a badge. Fisher put it in his pocket with a grin. The startled, staring men behind him were dumfounded. Tracy then shoved over the jail keys.
“They’s four brand-new cells,” he said, “just installed, all the latest fittin’s. The others ain’t worth much ’cept for looks. Four will be plenty, I guess?”
“One,” said Fisher significantly, “is all I figger on using. I’d hate to cause the county a lot of expense, Tracy, when you’re treatin’ me so wide and handsome.”