Mark has a Plan

“Mark, don’t worry about it. These punks won’t stay in this town long; it’s too small, not enough money here, they will move on and it will only cost me a few bills.”
Mark ran his hand through his thinning hair. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Cookie said, “Mark, don’t you do anything. This has nothing to do with you. You stay out of it, okay? Okay?”
“Supper’s gettin’ cold,” Mark said, backing out the door.

Mark enjoyed his liver and onions, hot roll, and scalloped potatoes. He wash all this down with three cups of hot coffee.
When the waitress brought him his bill she leaned into him and said, “Thanks for talking to him, Mark. He’s been a wreck all day.” She winked at him, popping her gum all the while.
Mark stepped outside. The evening had gotten cool and a breeze had picked up. He hitched up his sixguns and wished he hadn’t quit smoking. While he had eaten, he had thought about the two punks and what he might be able to do to help Cookie. They were new in town, so unless they had friends they had to be

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