His Honor pointed at his automobile. “My office.  Back veranda is all shade.  Which reminds me, you must be Winston Cooper, mustn’t you?  Sheriff’s said lots of good things about you, how sharp you are, even if you did go to some Eastern college.”

“Yes, sir, Mayor Starling,” Winston answered.  “And the veranda sounds to be a fine idea.”

“Oh, Winston,” Radnor said,  “Three guys overflew the length of the rail line in an airplane.  They found the missing trains.  Destroyed.  No signs of survivors. The little towns are gone.  Governor wanted a posse to ride and look for people still living.  I said ‘not my jurisdiction’.  Thanks to the legislature, my jurisdiction stops at the Jameson Ranch.    Besides, something killed the two men in the signal tower.  It was locked up, but poison gas would do it.  I’m not riding into poison gas.”

“And I have waiting a pitcher or two of my mint tea,” John Starling said, “cooled overnight. You clearly need it.”

* * * * *

“…so that’s what I found,” Winston Cooper concluded.  He took another swallow of the Mayor’s tea.

“You’ll be writing it all up?” Grandpa Cooper did not make that sound like a question.

“Later,” Winston said.  “I still have three or four stops, detective work, before I get back to the office.”

“Just so it’s today,” Grandpa said, “so your memories are fresh.”

“Yes, sir.  And I appreciate your hospitality, Mayor Starling, but I must be on my way.”

* * * * *