Tom Bender nodded and declared that was the way with them —boom towns. They were so busy trying to get rich that the riff-raff had the place by the tail before they knew it.
“That's it exactly,” the Adjutant-General said. “Last week a couple of bums put on a shooting match on the main stem and accidentally killed a twelve-year-old girl. Neither one of them was hit but a bullet ricocheted and got the daughter of Jeff Peebles. He couldn't get any satisfaction from the sheriff so he's got the whole town steamed up. It's a tough place.”
Tom Bender looked up, bared his teeth wisely and said they were all tough but that some were tougher.
“Then Rondora's tougher,” the Adjutant-General said. “I want you to get over there and head off trouble. There may be some even after you get there.”
Tom Bender looked up, bared his teeth a little and said: “Yeah— there may be at that.”
He was a good officer and scared of nothing but when he got in a tight corner he unlimbered his guns and started blasting.
The Adjutant-General glared down and snapped: “And, by—! I don't want you to make a shooting gallery out of that town, either!”
Tom Bender grinned and spread his hands placatingly.
“All right,” he said; ”—no shooting gallery.”
It was easy to agree to anything when a man's insides felt as if they had soaked up a lot of sunshine and he knew he had a day or two to play before he went back to work.