Free The Edge of Town by Dorothy Garlock

grows.”
     
     
    “It’s a good idea,” Frank Adler agreed.
     
     
    “Well, I’ll put in my two cents’ worth and you can decide what you want to do.” The marshal leaned back in his chair. “It’s just as plain as the nose on my face, folks. I have so much territory to cover that, even with the help of my deputy, I can’t possibly serve the town of Fertile as it should be served. I live thirty-five miles from here, right in the middle of my territory. I can’t be running up here every time you have a neighborhood squabble or someone steals a watermelon. In my opinion anything that happens in Fertile can be handled by a man of good standing with the support of the council and my help, if needed.”
     
     
    Herman Maddock spoke up. “We have some petty crime here, not much traffic, but a few brawls down around Well’s Point after we took it into the town limits. Any man with a good head on his shoulders and a ready fist should be able to handle the job.”
     
     
    “What do you plan to pay this … peacekeeper?” Amos Wood’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.
     
     
    Ira took a deep breath. “Marshal Sanford suggests fifty dollars a month and that we pay for his weapon.”
     
     
    Amos rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and his fat cheeks quivered as he gritted his teeth.
     
     
    “Have you something else to say, Amos?” Ira asked.
     
     
    “No. No. You’ll just barrel on ahead. I thought I was the financial advisor on this council. When you bankrupt the town, you’ll—”
     
     
    “We won’t come to you for a loan if I have anything to say about it,” Ron Poole said firmly.
     
     
    “Do you have anyone in mind?” the undertaker asked in his mild-mannered way of bringing the discussion back on track.
     
     
    “Marshal Sanford has made a recommendation,” Ira said.
     
     
    “We realized that we couldn’t get an experienced man out of Kansas City or St. Louis without paying him considerably more money than we can afford. The man he recommends is from the southern part of the state, down around Joplin. He was with the military police during the war. That would make him qualified for a police job in the city, but he would rather settle down in a small town. He is a single man who lost his fiancée while he was away at war.” Ira placed several pieces of paper on the table.
     
     
    “I have here a copy of his army discharge, an evaluation from his superior officer and several personal endorsements. The marshal tells me that he is twenty-six years old and an excellent marksman.”
     
     
    “You planning on having him shoot someone, Ira?” Amos asked.
     
     
    “If your bank was being robbed, wouldn’t you want the policeman you called to be able to shoot straight?”
     
     
    Amos grunted and looked out the window.
     
     
    Marshal Sanford’s chair scraped the floor as he got to his feet.
     
     
    “I’ll bring the man in and you can talk to him. Nice seeing you again, Ira.” He extended his hand, then shook hands with the rest of the council members. “If Appleby doesn’t work out, let me know. I’ll see what I can do about finding another man.”
     
     
    Marshal Sanford left the door open when he left the room. A short while later, he returned with a tall, lean but not thin, dark-haired man with broad shoulders and a scar that sliced across one eyebrow onto his cheek. It showed a pale, thread-like line through his summer tan. He carried a brown felt hat in his hand.
     
     
    “Corbin Appleby, gentlemen.” Marshal Sanford made the announcement, clapped the man on the shoulder, went out and closed the door.
     
     
    Mayor Ira Brady extended his hand, introduced him to the rest of the council, then invited him to take a seat.
     
     
    “Why do you want to move to a town the size of Fertile?” Amos Wood began the interview with the blunt question.
     
     
    Corbin Appleby looked him in the eye. “Why not? Isn’t it a desirable place to live?”
     
     
    “It is,” the