Cleo didn't take no crap! She had managed the cleanest ladies house in Tombstone since 1879. Her girls were vetted, honest and pliable.
"Thanks Cleo!" Behan said, as he softly shut the front door behind him and stepped out onto the boardwalk.
He pulled a thin cheroot from his vest pocket and lit it with a match, puffing slowly and rhythmically.
A town hobo rounded the corner chasing a chicken down the street...the bird dodging the man's downward swipes with moves that an NFL running back would be jealous of.
Behan smiled to himself until he recognized him as the one that was going through his bag the other night. His eyes narrowed in anger until he saw the blood running down the homeless man's right side. He reached into his pocket and gripped the pen knife inside of it.
Behan stepped off of the walk and sharply called out, "You there stop!"
The hobo stumbled to a stop, the chicken still cackling as it fled out of sight.
"Two things, sir. According to town ordinance you must show evidence of support upon demand, please present said evidence now please."
The hobo glared at the Sheriff, "You ain't no town Marshall.", he spat as he turned to walk away.
Behan grabbed the hobo by his malnourished arm and softly repeated, "I said stop."
The hobo jerked his arm away and swung his fist toward Behan's temple. It was over in a flash.
Genesis the town hobo and loyal "citizen" dropped dead to the dirt with a single muffled cry
*** It is now Day Phase. You have until 0200 to cast your votes. ***
Accipere quam facere praestat injuriam