“Of course, Dad,” Travis said. 

Twenty minutes later, Winston and Travis stood at the edge of town. Further out were several corrals with a few horses. The blue star was clearly in sight.

“Calm day,” Travis said.  “Cool for once, meaning less shimmer in the air.  Your job is to stand back and look important while I set this thing up.  It’s a one-man job, and this device is expensive.”

Another five minutes and Travis, sitting on a low stool, stared through the theodolite’s telescope. 

“Amazing,” he said.  “I can see the zepp.  Easier if I rotate the scope, just enough that that light is well off axis.  Here, take a look.  Careful, do not bump the stand.”

Winston took his turn.  “Remarkable.  What is it? Do we have enough time for me to sketch it?”

“Be my guest.”

Winston pulled a pad and pencil from his carryall.  Lines flew across the paper.  After not long, he stopped.  “Close enough for amateur work,” he announced. 

He realized that there was now a third person standing politely back but looking over his shoulder at his drawing.  He turned his head, stood, and politely tipped his hat.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” Winston said.  “Wasn’t that you at the railroad station?”

“You have a good eye for faces,” she answered.  “I’m Melanie Hayes.  Boss got my telegram, said wait here, so I’m picking up some spending money guarding the company’s corral and feeding a few horses.  Our regular here heard about the Heath, the bodies, the cavalry, and announced he and wife were visiting relatives. In Ireland.”

“I’m Winston Cooper, Associate Sheriff, and this gentleman is Travis Spencer.   Guarding?” Winston asked. “This is a law-abiding town.”

“A few nights ago, the night the Heath appeared, the horses were spooked,” Melanie answered.  “O’Hara, he was our night guard, thought there was a mountain lion. He heard its growl, didn’t see anything.”