up with a wild gasp, dumb bewilderment in his face. There was a roar of laughter from the men who were peering through the bars, with stamping of feet and back-slapping.

“What’s his name?” one of them asked.

“Call him New Orleans,” said the sheriff. “He likes to be called New Orleans. It makes him think of the big city. Right, New Orleans?”

Catell stood up slowly but didn’t answer.

“He don’t answer,” said another rancher, and they all looked at the sheriff. “Harry, he don’t answer.”

“He will.” The sheriff pushed the men aside and stepped up to the door. He pulled out a large key and swung the door open. In the silence there was only the creak of the old floor and a soft swish as the sheriff unholstered his gun. Leveling the long revolver at Catell, he stood back with feet wide apart.

“Come out.”

They all stood still, waiting.

“Come out, city feller.”

Catell stepped forward slowly. His head was down and water dripped from his hair.

“Walk to that door.”

Catell walked. He walked out of his cell, past the staring men, past the sheriff with his gun. Suddenly the sheriff kicked out his foot and Catell was flung to the floor. Shaking his wet head, he heard the guffaws of the men behind him.

“It don’t pay being hasty, New Orleans.” The sheriff roared again. “Lemme give you a hand.”

Catell obeyed.

“The other hand, city feller.”

He reached up his swollen hand automatically but jerked it back, afraid of the pain.

“Your hand, city feller.”

Catell shrank back when the sheriff’s foot caught him under the chin. His head snapped back and hit the floor with a sharp thump. He lay limp and unconscious.

The sheriff doubled over with loud, dry laughter, slapping his thigh.

“Hey, New Orleans!” Then he noticed that he laughed alone. The young deputy stood by, snickering; the ranchers looked embarrassed.

“We’ll be goin’ now, Harry. We got things to do.”

“Sure, Harry. We’ll be seeing you. So long, Harry.”

They looked away and hurried out. They didn’t look at Harry, or at the limp wet man on the floor, and they closed the door softly behind them.

The sheriff holstered his gun and gave the young deputy a mean look.

“Throw him in the cell. And mind, you stay around an’ keep an eye on him. He bears watching.” Then he walked out, hitting the floor hard with his heels.

When it was getting dark outside, Catell woke up. He breathed carefully, feeling the aches in his body. He heard dim voices from the porch. The door opened and the sheriff came in, followed by a few other men. Catell stiffened. This time, he swore, this time he’d kill the bastard, no matter what the consequences. But they didn’t come his way. They stood talking in the front room and only the sheriff gave him a glance. He didn’t smile or make a crack, he just gave Catell a cold stare.

They shuffled around the room, moving chairs and hanging up their hats.

“One of you gimme a hand,” the sheriff said, and left the room with one of the men. Catell stood in his cell, suspicious, waiting for the next trick. That’s when he heard the noise.

Outside his window in the deserted space behind the jail there was a rustling and the sound of low voices. Catell moved to the window slowly and leaned his arm on the sill. The darkness outside was almost complete and a cold breeze made him shiver in his moist shirt.

There they were, beside his car. The rear door was open, one figure had crawled into the back, and the other was leaning in, straining, as if lifting a great weight. When they hauled out the rear seat, Catell grasped the bars of the window. A stiff, sharp fear tensed his body and he trembled violently. The taut skin on his swollen hand cracked, but he didn’t notice. He only saw the two figures carrying the rear seat of his car and then disappearing. In a few moments the door in the front of the jail opened and the two men came in, carrying the seat between them. They had removed the lead apron and presumably left it in the car. They put the seat on the floor. The sheriff said something about the damn weight of the thing and somebody answered with a joke, but Catell hardly heard. He sank down on the cot, feeble and numb with lost hope. How did they know? How had they found the place so fast?

Head down, hands limp between his