Back at the church, Slade walked in on a gentleman’s game of pinochle. No money was at stake. It was just a means of passing the time.
“One of you suckers is cheating,” Knox declared.
“You say that every time,” Gunther replied.
“That’s because there’s always a sucker who’s cheating,” Knox said.
Joe smirked and studied his hand.
The younger Knoxes weren’t playing. They were more interested in the magnificent hawk Miles was sketching with a pencil on a piece of paper he scrounged up.
“Looks so real,” George said. “Who taught you how to do that?”
“My Mama,” Miles said.
Slade took a load off. Gunther slid the blueberry muffin tin across the table.
“A gift from Miss Bonnie. I had to rescue them out of the dirt after she discarded them upon the sight of you canoodling with your new paramour.”
Only one muffin left. Slade, a frequent customer of Anderson’s General Store, was fully aware that Mrs. Anderson sold wins with exactly three muffins inside. No more. No less.
Slade stared his number two down.
“Delivery tax,” Gunther said. “Good news is you got options, boy.”
“Oh?” Lade asked happily and then just as sullenly repeated, “Oh.”
Funny how good news tends to arrive way too late.
Knox’s blue stained teeth indicated to Slade he’d found the second culprit. In admiration of Joe’s apparent refusal to screw his boss out of a snack, Slade pushed the tin over to him.
“No thank you,” Joe said.
Slade pushed the tin again. Closer. Then he nodded.
“Well, if you insist.” Joe helped himself.
Gunther handed Slade a piece of paper.
“Washington finally got around to acknowledging our existence.”
Slade perused it.
UNITED EXCHANGE TELEGRAPH SERVICE
TO: All FEDERAL OFFICERS
FROM: HORACE A. TIPTON, U.S. ATTORNEY GENERAL
RE: FRAUDULENT REPORTS
REPORTS OF MONSTERS ARE FRAUDULENT <STOP> REPORTS OF COLORADO LOST ARE FRAUDULENT <STOP> APPROPRIATE PARTIES REPRIMANDED FOR HOAX <STOP> ALL IS UNDER CONTROL <STOP> OFFICERS MUST MAINTAIN THEIR POSTS <STOP>
Lade there the telegram down. “Bullshit.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Gunther said.
“Second,” Knox added.
Lade looked to Joe, who appeared surprised that someone wanted his opinion. He’d never worked for someone who asked for it before.
“I suppose if I were back East and expected trouble out West, I’d want my men to stick around and slow the trouble down,” Joe said. “A less scrupulous man might lie to get them to do it.”
Slade chomped his cigar. “Bullshit orders are still orders.”
Bookshelf Battle 
Mrs. Anderson sold tins, not wins.
Slade not Lade.
Lade there the telegram down. “Bullshit.” um.. Slade not Lade and you’re missing some words.
Lade looked to Joe. Slade.
as a note on tone, characters seem to be drawling less, clipping their words less, and using less antiquated sayings.
Apple spellchecker wants Slade to be Slade so badly. I really hate Apple spellchecker
Gunther is the only one I’m trying to put across as a bumpkin so I have to watch it with him. The rest of them I’m trying to have them speak normally as I’m not sure the readers want to wade through the country talk for more than one character
Gunther is kind of modeled after Festus on Gunsmoke, a bumpkin’s bumpkin
Reblogged this on Bookshelf Battle and commented:
Resolving the telegram issue…and Slade learns too late that Bonnie wanted him after all.
It’s like that Chris Rock routine about how no women want him when he’s single but when he’s with a woman, every woman is after him.