This old house

The big old home was drafty and eerie as Clyde Hissmanson sat looking out the window at the people passing by on Main Street.  Clyde was not feeling right this morning; his consumption had been acting up recently.  His illness had always acted up in the late summer and affected him until the spring melt.  For being only five feet, eight inches, Clyde was only about one hundred and eighteen pounds and spoke with a pressured, high pitched voice, it made people think that is what a nervous squirrel would sound like.  Clyde rose up from the chair he was in and walked into the sitting room.  He glanced at the big clock in the corner; the time was just past three in the afternoon.  He looked over at the fire mantle and found his cigarettes.  Looking inside his case holder, he found that he was out.  Grabbing his over coat and some money, Clyde stepped out into the city of Stillwater.  It was late summer early fall in the year 1900.  The day had been overcast and rainy, just an overall cold and dreary day.  Stepping off his front porch, Clyde felt the cold rain pounding on his face.  The nine-block walk to the store seemed to take years as Clyde slowly trudged along.  As Clyde walked down the street dodging the horse poop and garbage in the road, he noticed that some of the less respectable residents of Stillwater were starting to come out.  Clyde had always imagined himself having high times and drinking without any cares, but he was not in his character e, and besides what would people say if one of their schoolteachers were out living it up. As Clyde walked by the MAD HATTER a saloon/brothel one of the working girls tried to say something to him, but Clyde just kept on walking.

         Clyde finely reached the smoke shop “EARL’S SMOKE SHOP AND IMPORTED THINGS” the sign over the door read.  Earl was an old black man who was once a slave.  Earl had been a slave for the first ten years of his life, until his mother and ten brothers escaped from their master’s plantation one day.  With the help of the Underground Railroad, Earl’s family made it out of Mississippi and arrived in Stillwater.  One of the most ironic things is that the Civil War started the day after he arrived in Minnesota.  Earl was fond of saying “the whole South was pissed for that skinny nigger running off with his no good mother and brothers.  Looks like the whole Rebel army are coming to get them and bring them back.”  He would say.

         Earl was someone everyone liked, mild-mannered, could talk about anything to anyone.  He knew everyone’s business, not in a nosey way either.  He was more reliable than the newspaper on the day’s events.

Earl was a tall, broad man.  He still had coal black hair, his face showed all the years of his life on it, every wrinkle, and every crease.  He still was as strong as an ox; his arms were like lead pipes.  Said he could still whip any man in the town living or dead, even at his age.

His age was always something of a running topic among the visitors and regulars that would stop the shop.    No one really knows how old he is, some say seventy some say ninety and Earl will not tell.  Truth is he really does not know.  When kids get to talk to him, someone always asks if he really had been a slave.  Whenever that happened, he would show them his back, which was a road map of old, scars from being whipped.  Then he would tell people that no one should ever have to be owened by another man.

With as rough and tough as the city was back in those days Earl was a ray of kindness.

Clyde opened the big heavy door and walked in; shaking off the day’s chill and feeling the heat of the room.  Clyde looked up and saw Earl’s big toothy grin.  “Hi teach,” said Earl. “What can I help you with today?”  Clyde shot him a grin back, but Earl could tell that he was not doing well on this day.  “You have the consumption today, teach?”  “No, no Earl I am not having a nice time of it,” Clyde replied.  Then started coughing into his hands.  He could feel something swelling and them it shot out from deep inside him.  Up his throat and out his mouth.  No doubt that it was some blackish, red goo.  Clyde had stopped studying the sticky, smelly stuff long ago, except every time he saw Doctor Tabbit.  Tabbit, on the other hand, loved to look at the stuff.  He would have Clyde spit into a petty dish then look at it through his microscope.  Clyde has the uneasy feeling that young Doctor Tabbit liked bugs and germs more than people did.  Surely he could communicate better with them than his patients.  Tabbit had a nasty habit of saying, “do you really want to be sick,” like a person wants to be ill.  He was always just a little cold to everyone around him.  Not in a way that would make him a snob, but rather like he thought he would hurt them and did not want to break them, so he kept them at a distance.  Clyde was still thinking of the good doctor when a very large lady dressed in a bright green and pink dress tapped him on the shoulder.

When Clyde looked up all he saw was a very large face pressing towards him.  The lady stopped short of hitting his face with hers.

“Hi,” she said, “I have just gotten back from visiting my sister in New Orleans.  That is in Louisiana.”

“Is that right, I did not know that?” Clyde mockingly cheeped back at her.

“That’s right, Clyde, it is Louisiana,” she said back to him.  She then pulled her face back a bit and said, “My name is Daisy Dilly, Voodoo Mistress Extrordinaire!”

  He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw Earl leaning over his counter with a wide toothy grin.  Clyde was able to study her oversized face and noticed she was tan, had gray, stringy, greasy hair and smelled of body odor and perfume.  She had very bad breath and only four teeth.  Her browned teeth were all on the top, so when she closed her mouth she looked like an oversized, deranged beaver.  For as disgusting as this lady was, the topper for Clyde was when she smiled.  Three of the four teeth were rotten and the last one dangled by a lone piece of her gum.  Clyde could even swear that a “bug” of some sort was eating at the last piece of gum holding the tooth on.  Clyde bent over, feeling like he was going to vomit. He started to feel dizzy, like the world was spinning very fast and he bent to one knee.  He could hear Earl shouting at the old lady to get out, and he could hear him coming out from behind the counter.

But as Clyde was going down to the floor, all he could hear was the old lady’s voice saying, “I bring a message to you, Clyde David Hissmanson, be careful of rivers that run north and clocks that unwind, because you could run out of time.  People are never what they seem.”  Clyde could only grab his side and bend over; he could barely hear what the old lady was saying.  All he could think was what in the hell is this crazy old bat saying.  The last thing he could remember was touching the wooden floor of Earl’s shop, and the scent of the wood burning, pot bellied stove on the other side of the shop.

When Clyde came to, he was in the back room of Earl’s shop looking up he saw the face of Dr. Tabbit, Lance Williamson, and Earl.  “Stay still Clyde,” said Dr. Tabbit, “do not try to get up, you had a nasty spell.”

“You had me going there, Clyde, I thought your heart gave way and that was it for you,” Earl said.  His booming voice could never be mistaken for anyone other than Earl Freshman.  When ever anyone got sick or had a fainting spell around Earl.  He would say, “I thought your heart gave way!”



“One of the kids, I think it was Nancy Jack’s kid, France, I think it was, ran to the Sheriff’s Office and got me,” said Lance Williamson in a very heavy, iron-range accent.

Clyde sat up in the bed that he had been placed in.  His coat and boots had been removed along with his collar.  His suspenders had been loosened.  He was laying there in his heavy pants and white undershirt.  Looking around and confused, he asked the only logical question, “What happened?  Where did that crazy lady go?  I think she did this to me, put a magic spell on me that am what happened.”  “What lady,” asked Lance?  Earl looked at them with a sort of confused look on his face.  “Don’t know anything about some crazy lady; you were talking to Betty Rageing.  Looked to me like you two were talking about the upcoming county board meeting,” said Earl.  “Why, would I talk to Betty about anything at all?” Clyde responded in his high pitched whine. 

         Now for the eight or so people who do not know about Betty Marien Rageing?  Mrs. Rageing has been the unofficial town crier for the last 75 plus years. Earl had the common sence to understand to stay out of people’s affairs.  Betty, on the other hand, would tell you what to do, how to do it, and when to do it.  Betty had the last word on everything.  When she was younger, folks thought she was just a pain.  Now that she is an old lady, everyone knows not to argue with her.

“What happened?” asked Clyde, the last thing that I remember is talking to that nasty, stinky lady.  “She said here name, ooh, what did she say?”  “Mazzie, Sally, Lazy?” “DAISY DILLY” shouted Clyde in such a high pitch that a dog outside barked when he shouted.

Lance ran a big paw through his fire red hair and looked up at the Doctor with such an expression that Clyde knew something was wrong.  Lance had been a deputy sheriff for as long as anyone could recall.  Lance was about five feet tall and weighed in at two hundred pounds.  Most of that was muscle from years of cutting trees in the woods in northern Minnesota where he had grown up.  Ely was an iron range town and everyone who lived there know that when they started working that you could work in the iron mines, be a farmer, or cut wood for one of the timber companies.

But, now lance was starring at Clyde.  “What’s wrong?” Clyde asked.  Lance said, “Daisy has been dead for more then ten years.”

“That can’t be” said Clyde “I was just talking to her in the store not ten feet from the stove.  Earl saw us.” 

Earl who had been thinking of getting back to his store, looked over at the group gathered around the bed.  “What?”  “What did I see, I was not listing”.

Dr Tabbit spoke up. “Who was he talking to, before he fainted? 

Earl looked over at the door leading out to the main part of his store.  “Like I said he was gabbing with Betty.  It must have been heated because her face was the nieces shade of red and her eyes where bulging.  And, just like that he hit the floor.  It thought Betty hit him with that log she calls a cane that she has with her.”

Lance felling the need and obligation to do something went over to the door and looked out into the main part of the store.  “Is she still here?” he asked.  Earl walked past his and went to the front of the store, and then he walked out side.  Lance could see him looking up one side of main and then looking down the other. When he returned he shocks his head.  Lances pulled his large frame back inside to what was now becoming to Clyde a very small room. “Nothing, she is not in the store or outside.”  Lance said to the group not addressing anyone paticular.

Clyde had been sitting on the edge of the bet getting dressed talking to Dr Tabbit.  Tabbit was trying to persuade him to stay in bed at less let him do a physical.  Lance could see that Tabbit had a small dish of some sort in his left hand.  Clyde was saying “No, No, I am just going home and lay down.  I will be fine, just need some food and rest.”  “Fine, Fine, whatever no one ever listens to me.  I am just the doctor what do I know.  Would you at less let Lance bring you home and watch you for a few hours them.  This caught Lance off guard, he was not sure that the Sheriff would approve of this, and was it in his duties anyway.  Hay now doc. Lance started to say.  When Tabbit said “It’s ok, I will got talk to Bill. And tell him that I told you to do as a favor to me.”

Clyde was almost done dressing.  He looked over at Lance, who was now looking out the door towards the store.

“Lance, you don’t need to walk me home if you don’t want.”  Said Clyde.

“ No, no doubt be fine.  I’m more than happy to do that and stay with you for a while.  It will give us a chance to atlk, think of it that way.” Says Lance.

When Clyde was finished dressing.  He and Lance went out into the store.  Earl watched him come out of the back room.

William Scorch had been the sheriff for about seven years; he was a small man only five feet tall would wear a top hat and had a cane that he brought ever wear he went.  Back in those days’ people did not expect much out of the local law.  In fact law enforcement was just starting to try to become some type of profession, with standards, and rules.  Along with some type of training both legal and personal.  That is to say how to deal with people.  Today we call it interpersonal communication skills training. 

For the most part Bill had been doing a good job.  Most of the county was a safe place, with the exception of spots in Stillwater.  Horse, and cattle crimes where down.  And his staff of 15 deputies usually found who the court was looking for.  Bill was way a head of his time.  He required that his deputies to read write, know some basic and special issue of the law.  He even had a woman deputy, that sort of thing  would not be heard for the next 60 pulse years.  Bill hired people who you would not think of as being deputies.  Lance was the largest person that bill had ever seen, on the other had Phil Wander was one the smallest deputies that Washingtion county has ever had.  Phil was about 4-8 and weighted in around 100 pounds.  Phil had been a preacher in Boston until he left to come out west.  Phil arrived in Stillwater in late 1896 on the train.  Just right before the train reached the Stillwater station; it derailed on a tree that must have fallen off a lumber car, right on o the tacks.  Causing the train to derail.  That night when they arrived at Stillwater by horse and cart the railroad put the passengers up in a hotel.  Phil’s bad luck was to be put up at the MAD HATTER.  The derailment took place in the early morning; wich was a good think because no one got hurt.  Phil had not eaten all day, and now it was going on nine at night so he resided to go down stairs and get himself something to eat.  Phil left his room locking it behind him as he left.  Phil walked past the working also girls and there men friends and went down stairs.  The place was packed, standing room only, and boy was it noisy.  Phil found a place on the east side of the bar.  A nice both.  Phil had very little money and was just passing through from out east to Cailfornia, where he had an opptunity to practice law.  Phil, 33 and just out of law school at the University of Mane.  Had himself a practice all sent up with his sisters, brother in law.  Phil always had the gift of gab.  Could talk to any one about any thing.  He thinks that is partly why he wanted to practice law.

Phil had just sat down and ordered, when this very tall and rough looking man came up to him and demanded ten dollars from him.  Phil looked at him and told him that he was drunk, dirty and that he should get away from him.  That he should go sleep it off.  This mountain of a man picked Phil up out of his set and was going to punch him in the face.  Phil grabbed the oak stump of a hand and with his fore finger and thumb. Grabbed his hand, the next thing the crowds know this large man was on the floor crying and screaming like a baby.  Darrel Christianson staggered his way over the Phil.  Darrel was the old sheriff; he was as useful as a bag of rocks on a boat.  “What’s going on here?”  He demanded.  When Phil tried to explain it to him.  He would not hear anything about of it.  He was getting ready to lock Phil up when he looked down and saw.  Franklyn Gorge Ames (the person who was bugging Phil).  “My god in the mule barn!” stated Darrell “you got Billy the kid here.  Signally handled.  Phil looked down at Frank who was still in pain, but now had a perplexed look on his face.  Phil let go of Frank’s hand; Frank fell the rest of the way to the floor.

; There must be millions of dollars out for him.”  Then proceeded to vomit all over him, and then fall down face first. Most of the crowd roared and laughed when Darrell fell.  Frank was now looking like he might have another go at Phil, now that the law is not around.  Franks friend where looking like they too where gaining courage to free there friend.  When Bill stepped forward, “hay, I’ll help” he said. He bent down over Frank and was gouging to pick him up when.  Stinky Pete came out of the crowed.  “He comes with us shortly.”  Old sticky Pete was a tall skinny man running over six feet tall.  He looked and smelled like water or soap had not touched him sence he was a baby.  His close where dirty and grimy.  You could smell him from the other side of the street, even it the wind was not blowing.  Like Frank, he was a cattle farmer and part time house thief from the Hugo area.  Pete had been known to kill men for crossing him.  Pete was just about to Bill.  When, in a flash, and bang then glass breaking, next thing Phil knows Pete was lying on the floor with Bill’s gun barrel pressing in on one of his eyes.  “Now, if you would like to live to see the sun come up? You tell the rest of them to go out side and to be at the courthouse tomorrow.  If they want your buddie.”  Frank who was starting to get up when Stinky Pete stepped forward, now was trying to breathe through the smell of having Old  Stinky Pete on top of him.  “Hay, look to see if Darrell shackles on him.”  Bill told Phil.  Phil bent over Darrell looking inside his coat, he found some chewing tobacco, a pen, and his gun that he had forgot to load, and in his coat pocket he found the shackles. “Got them!” he said suprizelying. Giving them to Bill.  Bill was not going to take any chances.  He locked one of Frank’s hands to Pete’s ankles.  As the audience in the MADD HATTER whispered, mumbled, and talked and watched the days events unfold in front of them.  “Watch them” Bill said pointing to Frank and Pete’s friends as they started to leave for the door. Poor old Frank was bent over in half with his right hand shackled to Pete’s ankle.  Frank looked like he was trying not to get sick front the smell wafting off of Pete.  Once outside Phil thought he was going to faint.  For someone who is not accustoms to valiance on a daily basics.  Phil kept looking over his shoulders as the made there way down the street.  “Anyone coming?” a voice boomed startling Phil to the point where he did a little skip, and swing around to look at bill and his usual catch.  Trying to speak Phil started to squeak out an uneatable sound.  After cleaning his thought and gaining his wits.  Phil stated that everyone was more interested in the drink and fun of the MADD HATTER than a heroic style rescuer of drunken thugs. 

After about three minims they reached the county court house.  The Sheriff’s Office and jail was around back.  Once reaching the door that said SHERIFF’ OFFICE.  The door flew open and a short fat red faced man stood that holding a rifle.  “Where the hell is Darrell?”  Demeaned the red faced man. Hold on Tracy Said Bill in athoutivated voice.  The Sheriff is fine he in passed out in the HARRER.  Frank and Pete where causing a fuss and dam neared killed this man.  I have witness, pointing to Phil.  Tracy did not seamed too eager to take cuousty of frank and his friend. 

That is how Bill and Phil met.  Phil stayed in Stillwater and found a small law firm to work at.  That Summer Bill ran for Washington County Sheriff.  Bill had asked Phil to be his legal advisor, but once he won he interdicted Phil as the new under sheriff.  His second in command.



Phil had recruited Lance after seeing him one night in a street fight.  Will it had not been a fight like most people would think of a fight.  More like Sam Wiggs hitting his face on Lance’s hand.

The story went; Lance was trained as a mid-wife / nurse.  Lance’s mother was a mid wife up in Ely Minnesota, his father a local teacher.  His parents also took in “lost” children. 

Because there would be no work for a male nurse or male mid wife.  Lance was working in a lumber camp earning money to go to school.  He had hopes of becoming a doctor.

Well the stories went; Lance came to Stillwater after delivering a load over lumber.  He was walking home from a friend’s home early one even around eight o-clocks or so.  When as he puts it, “I turned the comer and saw some wrong doing” with a girl about five years of age.  Lance told the man to get his hands off here.  The man, a white man about 28 years old and physically built.  Stood up and started to walk towards Lance. Lance backed up into the middle of the road.  The little girl went over to one of the wall of the building and crowitched down.  Lance could see the man had something in his left hand, but could not make out what it might be.  Once the man was about ten feet away he started to yell at Lance.  Telling him that he could do what he wanted and that if he wants to live he should move on.  As emphases to his statements he tossed the article that was in his hand.  The empty wine bottle shattered on the ground in front if Lance.  Lance stated that he was not going it leave. The man hearing this started running full speed towards Lance.  Lance having to have defended himself a few times in a number of lumber camps.  Quickly made a fist and started to draw back when the man ran right into his fist.  Lance had already started the forward motion.  Rather than socking the guy, he more uses the man’s eye socket to push him back.  He pushed this man back ten feet using his fist and the man’s face.

Watching all of this was Phil.  Phil had saw Lance back out if the street, flowed be Sam Wiggs.  Last time Phil had to deal with Sam it took a lot if talking and a good placed sap to the back of the head by Bill when Phil was talking to him.

All Phil could see was Lance backing up and Sam yelling, he could not hear Lance.  He reasoned that Lance was talking.  Phil was about two hundreds away when he saw the little girl. Then, it all became clear to him.  Sam has a past history of being “funny” with young boys and girls.  But, what could he help this guy trying to defend this poor little girl.  Sam is tougher than an ox and more stubborn than a mule.  Phil went for his gun when he hears the bottle breaking on the ground.  Phil was a good shot bout he though the way he was standing if he shot and missed he would hit the girl most defentlally.  Next thing he way was Lance punch Sam.  Sam hit the ground like a sack of wet burlap.  Phil started to run up to where lance and the girl where.  “SHERIFF’S DEPUTY STAY WHERE YOU ARE!”  Phil shouted.  He ran by the now unconscious Sam, and got to where Lance and the girl had been.  “You there show me your hands” Phil told Lance.  Lance with his back to him raised his hands and stood up, and turned around.  To Phil’s surprise he was looking at this man right in the eyes.  Phil had the sun in his eyes when he first saw the three of them.  Then Phil notice that this guy’s chest and arms looked like giant redwood trees that he saw in magazines, back east.  “I am sorry about that sir.” Said Lance in a heavy iron range accent.  About that time Bill, who had been watching a drunk sleeping it off in the jail, came around the corer on his horse holding his shotgun.  He rode up to where the three of them stood.  Bill got an expression on his face.  It looked like that of a dead cod fish.  From his horse he said” some one said that you where taking on Sam?”  At that his horse accenctntal  stomped on Sam’s stomach.  This brought Sam to.  With a heave grunt and gasp sound, Sam started to roll on the ground.  “Lock him up” he said the Phil.  Phil put on the shackles.  Bill got off his horse and went over to the frightened little girl.  Looking at her he asked Lance what happened.  Lance recounted his side of events.  Bill asked the little girl what happened, but all she could do was cry and shake.  “Well, sir it looks like a hero’s rescue is what we have here.”  Bill told Lance. “No charges will be filled against you I suspect”.



What do you think happened?  Inquired Lance

Well who knows Sam here has been a plague to the kids of this town for about ten year now. Said Bill.

“Who is this kid anyway?  Who does she belong to?” Stated Lance

Good questions but she can’t tell us what happened. Stated Bill.

“Do you mind if we bring her to the jail and I will try to talk to her?” asked Lance

“If you want?  I need to talk to you first though. Said Bill.

So the three of them walked back to the court house, Bill asking questions and inquiring how he knocked old Sam out.  Phil had already left and was placing shackles on Sam’s feet when they arrived.  Lance got a good look for the first time at Sam.  It had been dusk when he hit him and dark when the deputy haled him off to jail.

Sam Wiggs was a tall thing wires man.  The sheriff had ordered that all of his close to be removed and his arms and legs chained to the bars.  There had been given enough slack for him to eat, sleep, pee and use the can.  His face was that of some one who had been troubled there whole life.



         The Sheriff’s Department, which was located in the back of the courthouse.  Was larger than most sheriffs offices at the time.  When you walked in the main door there is a large wooden desk where the Sheriff sat.  And then off to the left of that there were two other desks where the deputies would do their paperwork and interview witnesses and suspects.  Behind them and down the hall where the cells.  A jail cell was 6’ x 6’, and there were five jail cells.  There also have been constructed a hallway that led from the Sheriff’s office to the courtroom, so suspects could be brought to court without having to travel very far and in relative safety.



When Lance said his large frame in one of the chairs,t he little girl sat a name chair right next to Lance, in front of one of the deputies and desks.  You could still hear Sam in the back screaming hollering and cursing.

Phil, who had been right behind lamps and a little girl walking into the sheriff’s office.  Walked past where Lance and the little girl were sitting walk down to the hall where that led to the cells, and shut a door so they could not hear Sam hollering and crying.



Once Phil came back he sat across from Lance and the little girl at the desk.  He got out a couple sheets of paper and put one of the pieces of paper into a typewriter. “okay, once again can you tell me what happened?”

Lance recounted the story once again.  As he was telling his story he noticed that Phil was typing away feverishly.  Lance had never seen a man used a typewriter before.  He’d actually only seen one other typewriter and his whole life now is back up north, and that was at the local newspaper. When Phil was done taking Lance’s statement.  He said “okay, let’s see if I got this straight. you were just walking down Mulberry Street.  When you notice out of the corner of your eye what appeared to be a struggle.  As you walked towards the alley you noticed a little girl and a man bent over her.” He went on to read the rest of the statement.  When he was finished when set yep that Is correct.



“Now, let’s see if I can get this littlee girl to say anythingng to me?” Phil looked over at the low girl who was sitting to the right of lands.

“What’s your name? Who is your mom?  Where do you live? what happened to you?  Did he try to hurt you?” Phil stared at her in silence after asking us questions.  The little girl refused to answer, she would just look at the ground. 

Well, I did all I can do stated Phil. That’s looked at the little girl who was about five years old.  She was a cute little girl, long curly hair, a red and plaid dress on, and a round face.

Lance asked “do you mind if I try?”

“No, go right ahead.”  Said Phil

Lance grabbed a piece of paper off Phil’s desk.  He started to write something, both Phil and the low girl were looking at Lance.  When he got done writing it was a piece of paper over to the girl.

“What is that?”  Asked Lance

the low girl studied the piece of paper for about a minute. In a shy quiet little voice. She said “a dog”

“That’s right” said Lance. Phil was shocked and amazed that he got her to talk.

“Now if I draw something else can you tell me what it is?” asked Lance.

“yes” said the little girl

Lance took the piece of paper and flipped it over.  He started trying once again, and after about two minutes he stopped at the pencil down.  Push the peace paperback over towards the little girl and asked “what is that?”

the little girl stared at the piece of paper for couple seconds and said “that’s a little girl with a dog.”

“Very good” said Lance

“and what Is the dog’s name?”

the little girl stare at the picture once again and thought closing her eyes.

“ Sparkles!” shouted the little girl.

“Perfect, just perfect”

“and now what’s the little girl’s name in the picture?”

“Tracy, I think her name should be Tracy.”  Said the little girl.

“Tracy, that’s a good name. Is that your name?” Asked Lance.

“Yes” the little girl said in a smiley shy way.

“Tracy what?”  Said Lance

“Tracy May Wright”  said Tracy.

“My, what a nice name.’  Said Lance

Lance looked over at Phil.  Phil’s mouth was wide open he had never seen anything like that before.  He was able to interview adults and it has even interviewed children. butts, he always found dealing with adults much easier.



Phil looked over at Bill.  Bill had taken his seat behind a sheriff’s desk and was also typing, but now he was watching what was unfolding at Phil’s desk.

“Phil, go down and get Clarence.  Tell them I need him back here.”

“That was a great.” The sheriff said.

“The Wrights have a farm about 6 miles out of town.”

“Can I talk to you?” Said the sheriff as he was getting up from his desk. “Tracy, I need to speak to lands outside okay?”

“Okay” said Tracy who is now fully engaged in trying pictures on pieces of paper.

Lance follow the sheriff outside.  Once outside, the sheriff took out a cigar lit and leaned up against the side of the wall.

“That was a neat trick how you cut that will grow to talk to you.”  Said the sheriff.

“Grown up, we took in all sorts of kids that no one wanted.  My mom and dad had a way of atlking to kids in finding out why they were unhappy or what had happened to them.  I had our own orphanage he might say.” Said Lance

“Where was that?”  Asked the sheriff.

“Up in Ely Minnesota” said Lance

“It just seems strange a big guy like you are able to talk to him a little girl who just been through all horrendous ordeal.  I would never guessed it myself.  And what do you think would have happened if Phil had not come along? I mean Sam’s a tough guy but he’s drunk he’s always drunk, and from the looks of you and look you could will pay him with one hand”.

“I really don’t know what would’ve happened?  I just wanted him to get away from the little girl.  I guess he probably would’ve received a pretty good whooping if you would’ve taken another  run at me.”  Said Lance.

“How do you like to work for me? I would train you, it’s not like typical law job  that most sheriff’s departments are doing. This can be a tough town, and will allow to people that think it’s okay to come down here and drink and act stupid.”  Said the sheriff.

Lance leaned up against the wall, well I am in need of a job that’s for sure.  I guess I’ll take.

that’s how Lance became part of the Sheriff’s Department.  The sheriff is always hiring people like that.  He would look for a special talent that a person would possess or some aspect of their personality that he liked.