"Sorry to intrude, ma'am," he said. "Is there a Horace Hawes here?"
"Why, yes, that would be me," Mr. Hawes said, getting up from the table. "What can I do for you?"
"Do you know a Ben Minot?"
"Why, yes, he is in my employ."
"Could you step outside for a moment?"
Mr. Hawes walked through the door on the small front porch. I followed him.
"Who are you?" the visitor demanded, looking at me with intense gray eyes that examined me from head to foot. This was a man who I could tell was all business and not to be trifled with.
"He is also in my employ," Mr. Hawes said. "And by the way, just who are you?"
"I am deputy city marshal Earp, and we have Ben Minot in the city jail."
Mr. Hawes looked at me and then back at the city marshal. "What? Why?"
"Mr. Minot was involved in an altercatio
