Battle At Tower Rock

The man in the saddle is angular and long-legged. His skin is sundide-brown. The gun in his holster is grey steel and rainbow mother pearl. It's handled on marks. People call them both. The six-hooter. James Stewart as the six-hooter.

A transcribed series of radio dramas based on the life of Grit Ponson. The Texas planesman who wandered through the Western territories, leaving behind a trail of still-remembered legends. The rock sure was spruced up. Flags on almost every building.

The big banners stretched all the way across Main Street. All the way from the roof of the hotel to the top of the Whitford Bank. Franklin County Fair, that's what it says. Prizes, rodeo, free barbecue, Saturday, August 20th.

Come one, come all. Well, tomorrow would be the 20th. I'd come to town day earlier than be sure getting a room. Good thing it did too. Only one left is on the second floor. The livery stable side of the hotel at that.

I put McLean shirt in the dresser drawer and headed downstairs. The clock in the lobby said 3.15. Well, that meant I had time to sort of give Tower Rock the one so important for supper.

Thought maybe I'd wander over and see how Kermit and Rome were getting along. But just so I was crossing the street, I saw Rome come out of the front door. Rob, hey, hey, Rob. Oh, Bred! Well, well, well, finally decided to put in an appearance, huh?

How are you? I'm fine, Ron. Fine. I'm just on the way over to say it. You're not running short of cash, are you, Bred? No, no, no. Ah, there's gonna be a social call. Not that I'm flush or anything like...