Willie drew the stack of papers from his hip pocket, selected one and slapped it on the desk. "That's the document that goes with the badge, Marshal. You better read it. The sheriff of Kittitas County requests that you give me the use of your jail and your c-co-operation."
Madrid made a shaky try at seeming amused. "You really pulled this off, kid?"
"You know what c-co-operation means? It means you try to interfere j-just once and I'll jail you like T-Tesno did."
Madrid slid shells into his revolver and dropped it into his holster. Grabbing his hat from a peg in the wall, he left the office without another word. Willie watched him from the doorway till he entered the hotel, then followed.
When Willie entered the lobby, it was empty except for the clerk, who was sorting mail.
"Where d-did the m-marshal go?" Willie demanded.
"I thought you got f-f-fired," the clerk said insolently.
Willie picked up an inkwell and smashed it on the floor at the clerk's feet. The clerk opened his mouth in outrage, but he saw Willie's hard little black eyes and said nothing at all.
"I asked a q-qu-question," Willie said. "I want a b-better answer."
"Third floor, I guess. That's where he usually goes."