It seemed on the surface downright silly, but perhaps it would be effective. Jubal went back and forth about the idea, going from wild enthusiasm one minute to humbling fear the next. Finally, he decided he’d try it on some of the close-in communities, the ones where he might get support from the local townspeople if trouble arose. He rode into the hills. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea. It was near to suppertime, and most of the campers would be fixing their eats. People might be annoyed at his bellyaching during their meal. Perhaps he’d give it some time. He realized he missed Cybil more than ever. She seemed so wise and confident. He wished she were there to counsel him. Jubal turned back toward town. The sun had begun to set and from his hillside he could see a soft purple light descending on the community. It wasn’t such a bad town after all. He and Mountain Bob had shared some fine times. He would have to drop a note to the gal Anne at Anne’s Good Eats to tell of Bob’s sad demise.
