The next day Kit happened to see the sheriff’s horse at a distance, and knew trouble was on its way.
“Johnny!” he called out. “Get in the other room.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The sheriff’s comin’.”
There was a lot of scuffling around, a door slamming, and then nothing but a thick silence until a knock on the door interrupted the quiet.
Kit laid his hand on his gun lightly in case he’d have to use it, and yelled out, “Yeah, comin’!”
As he started for the door, his footsteps were hesitant as his boots scraped along the crude planks. When he got there, and laid his hand on the knob, he turned it slowly, only barely opening the door, and peeking out.
“Hi, there, sheriff. What are you doin’ out this way?”
The sheriff looked around him as if he were trying to see inside. “You alone?”
“Yeah. I’
