“George,” he said, “we’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
“What do you mean, Dan?” George said.
“Seems like every time I see you, a crime has either just been committed, or is about to be committed, or one is in the middle of happening,” the man said.
“Sorry, Dan,” George said. “I guess it comes with the territory.”
“Why don’t you and I walk over to Mr. Hall’s porch,” Dan said, “so you can tell me what’s going on while my guys take charge of your prisoners?”
He looked up at the old man and said, “I think it’s safe to put that thing down, Cyrus, now that we’re here.”
“Aw, shucks, Dan, this is the most fun I’ve had in years.”
“I know, Cyrus,” the sheriff said, “but this isn’t like the old days when you and I worked together. You can’t just shoot ‘em and not worry about it like we used to.”
“I know, that’s why I quit. Damn civilization, anyhow.”
He ejected the shells from the chamber, placed the shotgun carefully on the floor behind his chair, and sat down.