The Sackett Weiner

Cap Roundtree poured himself a cup of coffee the pot boiling on the pot bellied stove.

Orrin leaned back in his chair at the desk as the cold wind whipped tumbleweeds through the street. A paint pony knickered at the livery at the sound of an owl of the night.

Suddenly we heard the sound of someone running down the boardwalk. The telegrapher’s clerk burst through the door.“Here Sheriff it just came over the wire.” He handed it over to Orrin.

“This is bad Ty.” He slid over the paper. It was a photo of a penis.“The Weiner gang is back. And they are on their way into town.”

"We better get Tell. I think he had some dealings with the Weiners in that mining camp."