Book Of The Month
Robbin’ a bank then returnin’ the
money ain’t exactly the actions of a sane man!
He rode past the livery stable, where he used to earn pocket money forking hay; the general store, where he liked to spend his hard-earned on his favorite candy — jawbreakers.
The faintest smile touched his lips but was quickly gone. This was no time for pleasant memories.
Tumbleweed was almost deserted at this late hour and the faces that turned to look his way were curious but lacked recognition. After all, he’d left here a kid and four years behind those high stone walls had left little of the boy Tumbleweed had once known.
He’d hoped it would be that way . . . at least until he’d emptied the safe. Then he didn’t care who knew that happy-go-lucky Ron Slaughter was back.