Across the street at the general store, four men were standing on the boardwalk, looking over at the Indian who had just rode in.“That Indian’s we...ring a big badge. Hell fire, he’s a United States Marshal. All hell’s gonna bust loose now,” the store man said as the others looked on.As they stood, watching and listening, someone inside the jail hollered out.“Who’s out there? Who threw that saddle?”“Eli Crow, United States Marshal out of Fort Smith, Arkansas. If you don’t come out of there, I’m. He was always dressed in skin tight jeans, ( I’d also noticed he wore no underwear) cheesecloth shirts, around his neck he wore a leather lace necklace that was decorated with wooden beads even now when I think of him, and the way he looked back then, I am aroused.So the crush I had upon him was very complete.Anyway so it happened that there was a party happening that night, but poor old Pete had orders to stay home take care of me as my Aunt and Uncle were going out that evening.I felt bad. More

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