Second Harvest

"Roy, what's the meaning of…"

"Shut up Buddy. What did you do with the Wells Fargo strongbox you found out there in the desert?"

"I, I, I gave it to the bank."

"How much Buddy?"

"What?"

"How much money was in that box?"

"How should I know, I gave it to the bank."

"The strongbox contained ninety-seven thousand dollars when I found it Buddy, but Grover tells me you turned in sixty-three. Where did the other thirty-four thousand go?"

"How should I know Roy?"

Roy was mad and knew Buddy was lying. The Roy took a long hard look at Sheriff Dinkins, and something dawned on Roy. Buddy was wearing a new shirt and jeans. Roy scanned Buddy's body. The belt was new too, and so were his boots. The hat was a brand new Stetson. Roy took the back of his hand and knocked the hat off Buddy's head in frustration.

"Roy, what the hell is wrong with you?" Buddy bent down and dusted off his new hat placing it back on his head.

Roy knocked it off again, only this time he hit it hard enough to make it fly across the room. Roy was finding it difficult to speak he was so angry.

"Roy, as sheriff, I'm going to have to ask you to stop what you're doing, this instant.

Roy reached up and grabbed the sheriff's badge and ripped it off leaving a large flap of torn shirt in its place. "You're not the sheriff anymore, Buddy."

The sheriff snatched the badge up and carefully pinned the torn flap back into place.

"Buddy, I'm going to ask you one more time, where's that money?"

"Roy you have no right to accuse me like this. As sheriff, I have…"

Roy snatched the badge again only this time he ripped it and the flap off leaving a gaping hole in the sheriff's new shirt. Buddy's mouth dropped open.

"I told you Buddy, you're no longer sheriff."

Roy stuffed the badge into his pants pocket and grabbed the sheriff's shirt just below the collar pulling Buddy into Roy's face, a mere inch away.

"There're thirty-four thousand dollars missing Buddy and you're wearing new duds. Now there isn't any way you spent all that money on fancy new clothes and hat, so I'm asking you one more time; where's the stolen money?"

Sheriff Dinkins laughed nervously.

Roy looked down and saw Buddy was wearing a pair of new pearl-handled six-shooters and holster. Roy grabbed the right pistol out, pointing it into Buddy's face. The Sheriff's eyes crossed as he focused on the tip of the barrel. Roy then snatched the left pistol and tucked it into his belt. Roy studied Buddy's face and could see the man was now staring out the front window of the building.