Free The Best Rootin' Tootin' Shootin' Gunslinger in the Whole Damned Galaxy by Mike Resnick

“None. You’re a free man—and a damned expensive one.” He rubbed his hands together. “Jesus, you’d think a race that can travel through space would know how to heat their goddamned jails."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “How much did it cost?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “More than they needed and less than you’re worth,” replied Flint. “Let’s go."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Do you have any money left?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Flint stared at the young marksman. “Why?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I got a friend in here. Can you make his bail?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I thought you were in solitary."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “He’s in the next cell,” explained the Dancer. “We talked all night."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “How?” asked Flint skeptically. “You didn’t bring a translator."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “He speaks English."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Horseshit! Nobody on this dirtball speaks English."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  The Dancer met Flint’s gaze. “If I were you, Thaddeus, I’d be real careful who I called a liar."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Flint glared back at him. “And if I were you,” he responded, “I’d think twice before threatening the one man who could get me out of this pigsty."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  The Dancer walked back into his cell and folded his arms across his chest resolutely. “I ain’t leaving without him, Thaddeus. It ain’t right to leave a human being all alone in a place like this."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Except for Earth, there’s a grand total of thirteen human beings abroad in the whole damned galaxy,” said Flint. “You want me to name ’em for you?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Him and me, we go together or we stay together,” said the Dancer firmly.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “You haven’t even seen him!” yelled Flint. “Even granting for the sake of argument that he speaks English, how do you know he isn’t some feathered dragon with five heads?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Six,” said an amused voice from the other side of the cell wall.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Flint jumped, startled, and stared at the wall. The Dancer smiled, and finally Flint walked over to the attendant, switched on his translating device, and asked him to find out the charges and the bail for the Dancer’s unseen companion. He stood in the doorway, glaring silently at the marksman, until the alien returned and whispered to him in low tones.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Three thousand credits,” announced Flint, turning the translator off again. “That’s an awfully high bail for a guy who’s only charged with impersonating an officer.” He paused. “Maybe I ought to let the pair of you rot in here."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “You won’t, though,” said the Dancer.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “You’re dead sure of that, are you?"
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  The Dancer nodded. “It ain’t because you got a generous nature,” he said. “But whatever me and my friend cost you, you’re still going to make more money taking me back than leaving me here."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “I might get more satisfaction leaving you here,” said Flint.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Suit yourself,” said the Dancer, sitting down on a strangely-shaped cot and leaning back against the wall.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “You’ve got about five seconds to get off your ass and on your feet or I really will leave you,” said Flint disgustedly.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “And my friend?” asked the Dancer.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  “Yeah, him too. Nobody who speaks English belongs in a hole like this. We’ll turn him loose when we get out of the city."
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  The Dancer stood up