Both candidates for mayor stood on a hastily constructed platform in front of it, still ringed with sawdust. Tom Smith had his thumbs hitched through his suspenders. Despite being new to the town, he had ingratiated himself with the townsfolk by bringing copper tubing to the local brewers, and helping them distribute their products to other parts of the strip of unaffiliated territory known as No Man's Land. He'd also endeared himself to Pussy Cat, asking her to call him Tom as soon as he'd set foot in the Yellow Snake. He watched the parade of Pussy Cat's saloon girls, waving to a few of them, and giving her a solemn nod. His opponent, Sheriff Amos "Brushy" Bush, stared at Tom with open contempt. His vest was faded around a crisp dark outline where his badge normally sat.

Lawrence...

Please subscribe to keep reading.