There’s a new sheriff in town, and he’s dragging a saddle.
“Hey, Sheriff, you seem to have lost your horse!” calls out Jed from the porch of the saloon.
“No, but I’ve gained a saddle,” the sheriff replies. “There never was a horse to begin with.”
“Well, what’s with the saddle, then?” Jed asks.
“I took it off an outlaw,” the sheriff shoots back. “He didn’t need it no more.”
“Ah,” Jed says, knowingly. “Well, good riddance, then.”
“Maybe,” the sheriff says. “He has brothers, and they ain’t gonna be too happy once they get wind of their brother’s untimely demise.”
“Which brothers?” Jed asks.
“The Jensens,” says the sheriff.
“Oof,” Jed sympathizes. “That’s a raw deal, Sheriff. Them boys are nothing but trouble.”
“Don’t I know it,” the sheriff replies. “I’m thinking about deputizing a couple of men, just in case. You interested?”
“Hell, naw, Sheriff,” Jed drawls. “I value my life too much. But there’s probably a couple of lunatics here in the saloon looking for a fight. Want me to put the word out that you’re looking?”
“Sure, and thanks,” the sheriff replies. “I’m just gonna go out this here saddle to good use, then I’ll come by and see if we can’t comb the weeds for some new deputies.”
“Sure shootin’, Sheriff,” Jed says. “We’ll be here.” And with that Jed pushes through the swinging doors back into the saloon. The sheriff swings the saddle onto his shoulder, adjusts his gun belt, and heads toward the stables.
