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Harold Harwood sat in the River Front Saloon in Pueblo, Colorado talking with his men. “We need a fourth and fifth man to rob the Wells Fargo office of that hundred thousand dollars before they put it on the train for Denver. Trains are getting too damn hard to rob. Us three couldn’t pull it off. I want somebody that can get us inside that building. I’d say one of them has to have a badge, that will be our fifth man.”

One man asked, “Are you thinking of Sheriff Cook?”

“Might have to be, I was thinking more of kidnapping a Wells Fargo man. He’d have no trouble getting us in.”


U. S. Marshal Shorty Thompson just put his horse Dunnie in a stall at the livery. “Where bouts are you headed Marshal?”

“Denver, the Captain wants to chew my butt out.”

“Why? Probably ain’t the first time, huh?”

“Nope, and won’t be the last. I lost a feller down at Trinidad. Bad sucker he was.”









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