“Hello Jim!” Came a familiar jolly voice from the office doorway. Harper looked up from his paperwork and half eaten lunch to see Buck Henderson, an elderly man with silver hair wearing a flannel shirt, blue jeans, and work boots. His hard, traveled face looked more like a well worn pair of leather gloves than actual skin. The man’s nose was bent and flattened from having been broken too many times for a doctor to fix. Not that this man would have gone to a doctor.
“Buck!” Harper exclaimed with a smile. He got up and walked around the desk to shake the old man’s outstretched, calloused hand. “It’s good to see you! What’s it been- two months?”
“Closer to three,” Buck corrected. His smile made the deeply cut groves around his mouth and eyes more pronounced. “You’re going to have to come out and see us soon.”
“Us?” Jim asked, studying his friend. He looked older, but the steel-gray flecked blue eyes were full of life and his grip was like a vice.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Buck stepped out of the way to reveal the teenage boy in a gray sweatshirt, blue jeans, and white high top tennis shoes standing behind him. “Jim, I want you to meet Clifford. He’ll be staying with me for the summer.”
Jim stepped forward and extended his hand. “Hello, Clifford.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sheriff Harper. Uncle Buck’s told me a lot about you.”
“Uncle Buck?” Jim snapped a questioning look at his friend. “Well, what brings you and Uncle Buck all the way into town?”
“We came to get me a jacket?” Clifford answered.
“That’s right, Jim,” Buck spoke up. “Do you still have some of those green jackets with the Forest Service emblem on them? If Clifford’s going to be my assistant this summer, I want him to look official.”
“I think so,” Jim replied, turning to scan the deputies. “Rissley, take Clifford down to the store room and pick him out a jacket.”
“Yes, sir.” She walked around her desk and smiled at Clifford. “Come on, I’m sure we can find one your size.”
“Well, if it isn’t Smok’n Joe Rissley,” Buck said when he saw her. “How’s that throwing arm?”
“Just fine, Buck,” she said with a smile. Buck had coined that nick-name after last year’s championship game. People around town and at the office were slowly starting to call her “Smok’n Joe”. She wasn’t sure if she liked it yet, but anything was better than “Data”.
“It’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise,” Buck said, watching the two walk down the hall towards the stairs. “You’d better get me one of those jackets, too! My last one got ruined.” He called after them.
Buck then turned his attention back to Harper. “One more thing, Jim,” he said seriously. “I’ve closed trail seventy-four until further notice. I’ve already put the signs up at the trail head, but if you could have one of your deputies post it at the information center, I would appreciate it.”
Jim thought for a moment before answering. “Lets see, isn’t that the one that goes up the west fork of the Nisqually to Duck and Goose lakes?”
“That’s it,” Buck confirmed. “The winter thaw and spring rains really did a number on the trail. I was up there last week working on it when I came across three bears. They’re a female and two cubs.”
Jim rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, I suppose it’s about time they came out of hibernation.” That brought a worried look to his face. “They’re probably pretty hungry.”
“Who knows how many hikers’ camps they would’ve wandered into looking for a quick meal,” Buck said. “It’s best they be left alone for a while.”
“Did you actually see them this time, or is it that wild imagination of yours?” Milhouse questioned Buck in disbelief.
Harper turned his attention to Milhouse as the other deputies looked up from their paperwork. “What are you talking about, Tom? If Buck says they’re up there, then they’re up there.”
“It just seems like Buck is in here every couple of months or so, closing one trail or another because of bears. I’ve hiked those mountains all my life and have yet to see one,” Milhouse answered, putting aside the reports he was reading. The results of the letter he received earlier had put him in a bad mood. He was looking to take his frustrations out on something and Buck was a convenient target.
“Yeah, well if you’d open up your senses instead of just your mouth once in a while maybe you would!” Buck growled, taking the bait.
“The way you drink, I’m surprised you can see anything but the bottom of your last bottle!” Milhouse added loudly.
“Knock it off! Both of you!” Jim barked. “You’re carrying on like a couple of old hens.”
Tom wouldn’t stop. “Well it’s true, Sheriff. Buck wouldn’t need a new jacket if he hadn’t gotten so drunk the last time we went fishing that he tripped and fell into the fire,”
Jim cocked an eyebrow at Buck. “Is that true?”
“You should tell your deputies to have a little more respect.” Buck evaded the question and looked towards the ground with a guilty expression on his face.
“Now Buck, we’ve talked about this before,” Jim scolded. “You promised me you’d control your drinking. Especially now that Clifford is staying with you. You have to set a good example.”
“I will, Jim,” he nodded. “I guarantee it.”
Just then, Deputy Rissley and Clifford came back up the steps and walked towards them.
“We’ll talk more about this later,” Jim said in a quiet, yet stern manner.
“Here you go, Uncle Buck.” Clifford handed him a jacket.
Buck took it and tried it on. “Thank you, Clifford,” he said with a smile. “It looks like a perfect fit.” He turned his attention back to Harper. “Well Jim, we’d better get going. We’ve got some supplies to pick up from the Super Mart before we head back to the house. Clifford and I will be going back up the trail tomorrow to work on it some more, and finish picking up the garbage on the trail left behind by the hikers.”
“Hold on Buck,” Jim said with a concerned voice. “I’ll walk you out.” Then he turned back towards Milhouse. “Make up a sign to post at the Information Center.”
“I’ll post the information on our new website,” Rissley volunteered. “That way folks from out of town will know in advance of the closure and can plan ahead.”
“Oh yeah, and while you’re at it, call Morton Field,” Jim added. “As long as the trails empty, they might as well have the forest fire unit send their pilot up to do some practice water drops in the upper clearings.”
With that Jim, Buck, and Clifford walked down the hall, through the front door, and out of the building.
“Buck, why don’t you let Clifford run and get the supplies while you and I talk,” Jim suggested.
Buck looked at his friend curiously. “Yeah, all right. It’s not like he can get lost in this town.” Buck pulled a list from his shirt pocket. “Now Clifford, you have Mrs. Duncan give you a hand with this. Tell her its for me, she knows the brands I like. Especially the cigars—she orders them special for me.”
“Yes, sir,” Clifford replied, taking the list.
Buck then reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Lets see.” He fumbled with a large bundle of bills and handed some to Clifford. “This ought to take care of it. Oh yeah, stop by the filling station on your way there and fill up both tanks.” He pulled out some more money. “Give this to Larry. He rebuilt the front end of the suburban a while back and I haven’t paid him for it yet. Do you get all that?”
“Yes, sir,” Clifford repeated with a smile. “No problem.” With the keys in hand Clifford turned and ran out towards an old, dark brown GMC parked at the corner of the building. Both men watched as the boy climbed in the three quarter ton Suburban and drove away.
Looking over at his friend, Jim saw the thick wallet stuffed with cash still in Buck’s hands. “I see you still don’
t believe in banks.”
“Not hardly,” came the reply as Buck struggled to put the wallet away.
“Where did you get all that anyway?”
“A couple of weeks ago, one of those Hollywood types called me up and offered me a thousand dollars, plus expenses, to take him fishing for a week”
“What I wouldn’t do for your job,” Jim joked.
“An outfitter’s life is more than just fish’n and hunt’n, you know. I earn every penny.” Buck defended. “Especially this time, I’m telling you it was no picnic.”
“What happened?”
Both men turned and began to walk.
“Well, to start with, when I picked him up at the airfield he had a woman with him! It seems that at the last minute he decided to bring his wife. Hum, I wonder whose idea that was,” he said with a sour look on his face. “Of course I complained. I mean it wasn’t in our deal.”
“Oh, of course you had to,” Jim replied with mock sympathy.
“‘Fine’, he says as he whipped out his bill fold and gives me three thousand cash! At first I thought it was too much, and tried to tell him so, but he wouldn’t listen. But then, who could with a cellular phone in one ear and that woman clucking away in the other? I swear, I don’t know how he kept everything straight!”
“I hear some people are good at that. Personally, I wouldn’t like the stress,” Jim remarked.
“Well, it looked like it had taken its toll on him. You should’ve seen him, all pale and skinny.” Buck shook his head sadly.
“Really sick, eh?”
“Who wouldn’t be with a woman like that? She never stopped talking. I know you disagree with me, but it’s like I’ve always said. ‘The mountains are no place for a woman’. Especially this one. Everything that came out of her mouth was a complaint. ‘The saddle’s too hard!’ ‘The grounds too rocky!’ ‘There are too many bugs!’” he exclaimed in imitation. Buck snorted with disgust.
That brought a hearty laugh from his friend.
“It’s not funny! It didn’t take long before I knew she had to go!”
Jim immediately grew concerned. “What did you do?”
“Well for starters, on the first night I made my famous trail stew a little extra spicy. Then after supper, when we were all sitting around the camp fire, I started in with a story about bigfoot.”
“Not that old lie about bigfoot stealing your box of apples?”
“No, I made this one up special just for her. I told her that bigfoot was really a mutant created by space aliens,” Buck replied proudly, then posed a question to his friend. “Jim, did you know that a whole clan of them live in the mountains looking for human females to mate with, in order to purify their genes?”
“You didn’t!” Jim’s jaw dropped open in disbelief.
“Damn right I did! You should’ve seen her,” Buck put his arm around Jim assuredly. “She was so frazzled from the story and the upset stomach that she didn’t sleep a wink. The next morning, her husband had to call in a float plane to fly her out of there.”
“Ah, Buck that’s terrible! You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Not in the least,” Buck looked at him. After a moment he raised his index finger implying there was more. “Besides, that only took care of half of the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well the phone, of course. If the week stood a chance of becoming a success there couldn’t be any contact with the outside world. Heck, you know that as well as I do.”
“So what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, it was Molly.”
“How is Molly and the other mules?” Harper asked.
“Well Tiny, Chuck, Blacky and the others are fine. Molly, on the other hand, worries me.”
“How so?”
“Well, she’s almost totally blind now. She relies mainly on what she hears in order to get around. Actually, that’s how it all happened. You see, this guy was riding Molly up the trail while talking on his cellular. Molly was having a hard time telling which way the rest of the horses were walking so she finely got fed up and bucked him off.”
“Did he get hurt?”
“Na! Just shook up a bit, but his phone landed in the middle of the trail. Before he could stop her, Molly’s hoof came down and smashed it into a million pieces! You should have seen this guy. At first, I thought he was going to break down and cry, but all of a sudden he broke out laughing instead. From that moment on everything went great. We talked, fished, and told jokes. All as if we were old friends who hadn’t seen each other for a while.”
That brought a smile to Harper’s face. “Good, I’m glad he turned out to be an all right guy.”
“Most men are basically the same, Jim. We are all made of the same stuff and have the same philosophy. Sure, some men forget for awhile and it takes someone like me to wipe the cobwebs away and wake them up. But when its all said and done, we’re all the same. Take this guy for example. He came up here skinny, pale, stressed out and looking for something to fill the void inside him. When he left he was a whole different person—he was alive again. Heck, I’d be proud to share my coffee and fire with any man like that.”
“You make it sound like you’re some kind of healer,” Jim remarked jokingly.
“I may not have a degree, but I’m a healer just the same. Sure a doctor can cure your body, but what good does it do you if you’re dead inside. People come to me looking for something they didn’t know they’d even lost. I take them up into the hills and the mountains breathe new life into them.”
The man seemed to be glowing now. He jabbed himself in the chest with his thumb and continued, “I give them back they’re souls, Jim. If that’s not a healer, I don’t know what is.”
Buck always made it sound more dramatic than it was Jim knew as they both stared silently out at the distant mountains, but there was something to his words. Every time he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, Harper would go up there and come back relaxed and more confident than ever. Buck was essentially right, but Jim didn’t believe it was the same for all people.
Through his experiences, Jim believed that people could become sick and weakened from the stresses and distractions of life. If they hadn’t killed their spirit completely, then there was a chance for someone like Buck to help them find their way again.
There were others, however, who couldn’t be saved. A growing number of city people were becoming members of, as Jim referred to them, the walking dead. Uncaring, selfish parasites who would never become useful members of society. That’s why he always paid close attention to the types of people who came into town. Occasionally, members of the walking dead would arrive trying to spread their disease, and each time Jim would run them out of the County.
No sir, Jim thought. That disease originated in the city and in the city it would stay.
After a few moments, Buck stopped their silent stroll and finally spoke up. “So what’s on your mind, Jim?”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t bring me out here to talk privately about my customers did you?”
“Well no,” Jim admitted, looking over at his friend. “Buck, we’ve been friends along time, and I don’t mean to pry, but I thought you didn’t have any family…”
Buck smiled back as if knowing what the question was going to be. “You mean Clifford? No, Jim, he’s not family. He is Cliff Webb’s boy.”
“Lieutenant Webb? The chopper jockey from Nam?”
“That’s him.”
“Man that guy can fly,” Jim replied. “He pulled me out of a couple tight spots. I remember it as if it were yesterday. He came in low and fast, then landed his bird where I wouldn’t think possible. As soon as I jumped in, he was off again and he did it all under heavy fire! I swear that guy has more balls than brains.”
“Oh, he had plenty of smarts!” Buck assured him. “It was his heart that
made him go into seemingly impossible situations. Back when I ran Covert Ops., some of my men were pinned down and didn’t have much time. I couldn’t order anyone in because my team was on the wrong side of a line on the map. Before I could ask for volunteers, Webb was already in the air.” Buck thought of him fondly. “I owe him for that, Jim, but he didn’t do it to be owed anything. He did it because he couldn’t stand to watch people die if there was a chance he could help them. I guess that’s why when he came home he took a job in Seattle flying a rescue helicopter for one of the hospitals. That’s how he met his wife, you know, she was a nurse at the time. They got married and had little Clifford Junior.”
“Well that’s great news!” Jim replied. “So how’s he doing? You know, you should really invite him out to do some fishing, I’d really like to see him again.”
Buck’s expression turned grim. “He’s dead, Jim,” he said softly.
“That’s terrible,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “How did it happen?” Jim suddenly felt bad for not keeping in touch. He always meant to, but any reminder of the war brought out feelings that he didn’t want to deal with.
“He got off work late one night a couple of years ago, and was mugged in the parking lot. After handing over his wallet the jerk shot him anyway.” Buck’s voice turned angry. “Can you believe it? A hundred yards from a hospital, and there was nothing they could do for him.”
Both men stood in silence for a few moments contemplating the tragedy.
Buck finally continued. “Anyway, young Clifford started doing poorly in school and hanging around the wrong people. His mother caught him smoking pot with some friends one night so she called me for help. It seems that Cliff used to talk to her about me and how I used discipline and hard work to turn raw recruits into men. She was hoping that I could help Clifford before it got any worse.”
“Yeah, I hear that kids in the big city schools learn more about drugs and guns than they do about math and science,” Jim remarked sadly.
“Things sure have changed since the sixties,” Buck added. “Back then you used to be able to tell the good guys from the bad. Hard drugs were being used by people who were old enough to know better. Now they’re gangs of junior high school kids dealing it on street corners.”
Jim could see his friend’s face turn sad as he looked at the ground.
“So maybe you’ll get a chance to save one of them?” Jim was trying to raise his friend’s mood.
Buck’s head popped up with a smile. “That’s right! I’m going to teach Clifford the ropes. Teach him how to run a pack line. Have him work hard all day so that he can look back at what he accomplished and smile. I’ll turn him into someone his father would be proud of.”
“Then I would imagine that providing a good example would be important.”
“Heck yes, it’s crucial. Lead by example, that’s what I’ve always said.”
“Then I can expect you to stop drinking?” Jim said more sternly.
Buck gnawed at the unlit cigar between his teeth, knowing he’d walked into that one. “Well…”
“We’ve talked about this before, Buck,” Jim argued. “You’ve been drinking way too much lately, even for you. This is a perfect opportunity to quit.”
Buck scratched the side of his head as he thought about it. If there was one thing he truly enjoyed, it was a good drink. “Tell you what. I’ll cut back to one drink a night, before going to bed. No more unless there’s an emergency.”
“Let me guess, in case of snakebite?” Jim said sarcastically. But he knew that asking Buck to stop completely was unrealistic. “I guess that’s a start.”
Buck decided to change the subject before his friend could suggest any more improvements. “So, when did you get the new black top?”
Jim looked down for the second time that day and smiled. “They just finished it last week. Looks pretty sharp, doesn’t it.”
“I’ll say. It’s sure an improvement from the mud hole it used to be,” Buck remarked. “So how did you get the County Council to spring for it?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with it. They did it all themselves.”
That brought a disbelieving look to Bucks face. “You’ve been asking for this for years, and those tight wads wouldn’t do anything to help you. So out with it. How many arms did you have to twist or how many favors did you call in?”
“Like I said, I didn’t do anything. What happened was that awhile back I was called down to a Council meeting to explain the new tires I had to buy for patrol vehicles. It just so happened that it had been dumping buckets all week, and right when the meeting started the storm knocked the power out to the building.
“If that wasn’t bad enough, the emergency generator wasn’t working and the engineer said it would take hours for it to be fixed. So, I suggested that we continue the meeting here at the station. Well it just so happens that some careless person left the hose running all night and that, added to the rain, turned this parking lot into a huge mud puddle.” Jim almost started to laugh as he thought of it. “When each Council member ruined a five hundred dollar pair of shoes getting into the building, they voted unanimously to pave it.”
“So all those things happening at the same time were just coincidences?” Buck rubbed his chin questioningly, already knowing what the answer would be.
“That’s correct,” Jim confirmed with a straight face.
Buck continued to look around suspiciously, and then an eyebrow lifted. “Still, I can’t believe the Council fixed your whole lot.”
“Oh they didn’t. They just did this small section of pavement here in front. The gravel was donated by Mr. Remick down at the quarry,” Jim answered.
“Donated!” Buck exclaimed. “Now you and I both know that tightwad Remick has never done anything for free. Heck, he charged his own mother for potting soil for her garden last year.”
“Now Buck, I think you’re being a little rough on poor old Remick. He’s a model citizen, the Judge said so,” Jim replied.
“What does Judge Lundeberg have to do with this?” Buck turned to look Jim square in the eye.
“I’m surprised at you, Buck. You’re not up on the local gossip since you’ve been back?” Jim needled. That brought an impatient glare from his friend. Normally Buck dominated conversations with tales of his latest adventure, so Jim enjoyed the few chances he got to have center stage.
“Well, it all started when I caught Remick fishing on Riffe Lake.”
Buck folded his arms in front him, becoming more impatient. “What’s so strange about that?”
“He wasn’t using a pole.”
Buck thought for a second before replying, “All right, I’ll bite. What was he using?”
A smile grew on Harper’s face until it stretched from ear to ear, and a twinkle lit up his eyes as he continued his story. “When I showed up, Remick was in the middle of the lake in his little boat drunker than ten sailors,” Jim remembered laughing. “As he sang ‘Home on the Range’ he would throw sticks of dynamite into the water then scoop up the fish with a net when they floated to the surface!”
“Holy cow!” Buck exclaimed as he laughed thinking of the sight. “Damn fool’s luck he didn’t blow himself sky high.”
Both men laughed for a moment before Jim continued. “Anyway, when he finally sobered up, he was worried that Lundeberg would have his blasting license revoked.”
“That would’ve put him out of business,” Buck confirmed.
“When Remick asked me for advice on how to get on the Judge’s good side, I mentioned that Lundeberg was a big fan of people who do community service.”
“So you told him that if he graveled your lot, the Judge would go easy on him!”
“Hey! You make it sound as if I used my position as Sheriff to influence the court.” Jim defended himself. “That would be unethical.”
“Isn’t that what you did?” Buck cocked an accusing
eyebrow.
The accusation kind of hurt Jim’s feelings. “No, I didn’t say anything about the parking lot. At least, not in so many words. He just asked me for advice, and I gave it to him.”
“Yeah, well it sounds a lot like that stunt you pulled with that book publisher from Bellingham last year. You remember him- he shot one of old man Johnson’s cows thinking it was an elk.”
“I remember I wrote him up for poaching and for just plain being an idiot, but I didn’t do anything else,” Jim assured him.
“Oh come on, Jim, you made a visit to his jail cell with a sad story about how the local high school didn’t have enough text books to go around and that those they did have were old and in bad shape. I got it straight from one of your deputies,” Buck remarked in a matter-of-fact sort of manner.
“Which one?” Jim ordered looking noticeably irritated.
“My sources are completely confidential,” Buck replied with a smirk. Knowing by the look on his friend’s face, the information he had gotten was accurate.
Jim was a private person who didn’t like people meddling too much into what he considered his affairs, Buck knew, which made it all that more enjoyable for Buck to needle him about it. It was a constant game between these two old comrades. A kind of friendly competition where each tried to show the other that he had the scoop on something the other didn’t. When the information was about the other, it made it all that more sweet.
Buck continued to spill what he knew. “When crates of text books arrived on the steps of the school the next morning, Lundeberg practically did a flip. He let that publisher go after reimbursing Johnson for the cow and promising not to ever go hunting again. You would think Lundeberg would’ve caught on by now. After all, you pull one of these stunts at least once a year. Do you think maybe he knows what you’re doing and just looks the other way?”
Jim looked at Buck out of the corner of his eye, wondering how much he really knew and how much was a guess. Sure, he had stretched the authority of his position a little at times, but it was for the good of the community and everybody got what they wanted. Most of his dealings were known to only himself and the persons involved. No, there’s no way he could know that much, he decided.
“All I’m going to say is, at times, this bureaucracy we’ve created doesn’t work the way it was intended to. At which point, it’s time for common citizens to step forward and do a little extra.”
“Is that what you do?” Buck laughed.
“No, I didn’t do it,” Jim replied with an irritated voice. “Remick and that book publisher did. That’s what makes them such good citizens. You should try it sometime. The drill team needs new equipment for next year, maybe you should take some of that newly found wealth of yours and donate it.”
The thought of it made Buck squirm. Jim had changed tactics and was now on the offensive. Blast him. It’s just like him to ruin my fun, he thought.
The hum of a familiar engine interrupted their exchange. “There’s Clifford now,” Buck replied as he looked down the road. “I’d better get going.”
Jim looked down the street. The suburban had just turned the corner, but was still a long ways off. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.” Jim said in a serious voice. “Are you sure you want to take Clifford on this trip? You’ve never taken anyone with you on these kinds of trips before.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t work him too hard the first time out,” he replied pleased that the subject had changed.
“What about the bears, Buck?” Harper asked as he turned towards him to look his friend straight in the eye. “You’re not going to let him get close to the bears, are you?”
Buck looked at Jim and hesitated for a moment, then replied seriously. “I won’t let him see the bears. He won’t even know they’re there. I guarantee it.”
That made Jim feel better. Turning, he watched the suburban pull in and come to a stop in front of them.
“Well, I’d better be going. There’re things to get done before we leave.” Buck said, walking towards the suburban. He stopped and turned around. “By the way, I put a few trout in the smoker. I prepared them with a little extra brown sugar, just the way you like them. If you come out for dinner when we get back, you can have all you want.”
Jim’s mouth began to water as he thought of it. If there was one thing Buck was good at it was smoking fish. Actually, anything he put in the smoker came out delicious. “You can count on it. Give me a call when you get back.”
With that, Buck got in the passenger side of the vehicle and it drove away. Waving as it left, Jim stood on the sidewalk and watched it disappear out of sight. He would make it out there this week, he knew, but not for the reason he thought. Jim turned and walked back into the station. Rounding the counter he stopped Milhouse as he passed. “Did you make the call to the field?”
“Yes, sir. Shaffer will be up in the air first thing tomorrow.”
“What about the notice. Have you got one ready for the information center yet?”
“No not yet.”
“Well get on it, I want that trail closed off,” Jim ordered.
“Why do we have to do this anyway?” Milhouse complained. “We’re always doing things for the Forest Service. We’re too busy as it is to do their work for them.”
“We’ve been over this before, Tom. It was decided a long time ago, both the Forest Service and the Sheriff’s department were short staffed. I fought hard for an extra deputy so the County Council and I came up with this solution. I would get the extra deputy as long as we did a few things for the Forest Service,” Jim was starting to get tired of explaining these issues, but told himself to be more patient.
“But the Forest Service is Federal, not County. It doesn’t make sense,” Milhouse replied.
“If you’re asking me to explain how the bureaucratic bean counters figured it all out, I can’t. All I know is I got the deputy I needed, and it takes a little more work now and then to keep him. Now is that too much to ask?” Jim asked.
Milhouse thought about it then shrugged. “No, I guess not.”
“Good, now get to work on that notice.”
“Yes sir,” Milhouse replied. He then returned to his desk.
Jim stepped back over to the coffee pot where he’d left his cup. Filling it to the top, he walked into his office and sat at his desk. “Another exciting day at the station,” he said to himself as he looked at the pile of paperwork in front of him. Jim took a big gulp of coffee, opened the first folder, and started reading.
* * * *
Chapter 4
Security