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The Case of the Mysterious Cowboy Caper

Sheriff Foster slammed his mug on the counter in the Ruckus Saloon with an exaggerated display of disgust. "Can you believe it?" he loudly asked Ted, the barkeep. "Can you believe," he continued in a slow Texan drawl, "that in our small town something so dang-stinkin' rotten could happen?" He pushed his mug toward Ted, indicating he needed a refill.

I sat quietly a few seats away and pretended to read a letter I had just received from my Aunt Rose in Virginia. The sheriff had caught my attention by his outburst and I felt compelled to listen to his ranting. After all, I had just arrived back into town after a week long cattle drive. I wanted to know what had happened that made the sheriff, usually a very calm man, so upset.

Sheriff Foster awaited a response from Ted, who had been momentarily distracted by another customer. Ted walked back to the sheriff and said, "It's downright awful, just terrible. I can't believe it neither." What? I thought. What is it that was so terrible, awful, and rotten? Ted seemed to read my thoughts because he continued, "Who do ya think dun it? I mean, who would wanna dump all that manure in the center of town?"

The sheriff shook his head and replied, "I dunno. Could'a been anybody, but now I gotta get somebody to clean it up!" I casually folded the letter I was pretending to read and rose from my chair. I had to see this for myself. How did I not see that when I came into town? I wondered.

A few moments later I was in the center of town, staring at a pile of manure and a pile of dirt. Did the sheriff know about the dirt too? I stood there for a minute, thinking about who would have put that there and then something caught me eye, glittering in the moonlight. I leaned over to get a closer look. On the ground, inches away from the mysterious piles, was a gold pocket watch. I picked it up and ran back to the Ruckus Saloon to inform the sheriff of my discovery. I arrived to find him sound asleep with his head resting on the bar. Well, I thought, I'll have to unravel this mystery myself.

I took a closer look at the pocket watch and found it was engraved with the initials TS. Who in the town has these initials? There was Ted Smith, the barkeep, and Tommy Scott, a blacksmith. Also, there was Tim Sanders, a farmer who lived further away from town, and lastly, Tally Stallman, a school teacher. I wanted to talk to the people to find out if anyone was missing a watch, but I knew it was impolite to call on

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