Micah stared in astonishment as the stagecoach rolled up to the marshal's office, the Jackman brothers hanging onto each other on top of the luggage with a youngster holding a gun on them. "What on earth…"

Cole jumped down. "Marshal, you'd better lock them up. They're the reason we're so late."

"I was just about to start putting a posse together." Micah gestured at the Jackmans. "All right, boys. You know the way to the cells." The Jackmans trooped inside. "What did they do this time?"

Luke descended from the stage, followed by Mark and the other passengers. "They held us up to collect a toll."

"A toll!" Micah looked bewildered. "There's no toll road leading into North Fork!"

Mark snickered. "That's what Pa told them. They thought they could take tolls because the town charter says there can be a toll road."

"Those three don't have half a brain between them." Micah was annoyed. "Now I'll have to get Neb to bail them out and you know how he always makes excuses for his boys. The paperwork alone will take a week."

Sullivan spoke up. "I'm the inspector you were told about, marshal. The stagecoach line will want to press full charges."

"Anybody hurt?" Micah bit his lip as they all shook their heads. "Did they get any money?" There was another dissent. "I can't really hold them then."

Sullivan was irritated. "They held us up for half a day and all through the night! Do you know what that has done to the schedule?"

"I can't help that, Mr Sullivan." Micah thought a moment. "Maybe there is something we can do, though."

He took Luke aside and spoke to him and the big man rode out of town on the marshal's horse, returning in half an hour with Neb Jackman.

The old man was furious. "What's this I hear about you holding my boys, marshal? The town charter says there can be a toll road."

"The town council has to vote on it first." Micah regarded Neb gravely. "I'm afraid the boys are in serious trouble. Would you care to step inside?"

Neb followed Micah and Sullivan into the marshal's office, with the others bringing up the rear. The Jackmans set up a cry on seeing their father and Micah snapped at them to be quiet, then said quietly, "Setting up an unauthorized toll road is a federal offense. This gentleman is Mr Sullivan, the stagecoach line inspector. Mr Sullivan?"

The inspector said grimly, "The line will press full charges. That means twenty years for each of your sons, sir."

"Twenty years!" Neb Jackman's face drained of color. "You can't mean it."

"But I do." The inspector started ticking off his fingers. "By trying to take unauthorized tolls, they are guilty of malfeasance in the first degree, conveyance tampering in the third degree, and unlawful detaining of lawful passengers in the second degree. Each of those charges in itself carries a mandatory sentence of five years. There is an additional mandatory five year penalty for endangering the lives of the passengers by detaining them overnight without water."

"Now wait a minute," said Luke. "Isn't there anything that can be done?"

Sullivan considered. "There is an option to pay a fine of one hundred dollars for each offense. That would be four hundred dollars, Mr Jackman, plus an additional one hundred dollars to cover the court costs necessary to dispose of the case without penalty of prison time."

Jackman's eyes popped. "Five hundred dollars! I ain't got nothing like five hundred dollars."

"Well…" Sullivan hesitated. "Marshal Torrance, if you will undertake to collect the fine, I will release these men to you."

The Jackmans looked eagerly at Micah, who said coolly, "I could do that, Neb, but if there's any further trouble, I'll have to turn your boys over to the inspector here."

"There won't be no more trouble," said Neb fervently. "Just let my boys go!"

"All right." Micah opened the door of the cell and the Jackman boys piled out. "You all go home now and behave yourselves.'

"Yes, sir!" The Jackmans ran out the door and everyone burst into laughter.

"Are you sure that will be sufficient, marshal?" asked Sullivan.

"I'm sure." Micah wiped his eyes. "They've had such a scare thrown into them that they might even pay the fine."

Luke spoke up. "Well, if we're done here, Mark and I are going over to the hotel for a room and something to eat." He smiled at his son. "Ready?"

"You bet, Pa!" They started over to the hotel and Mark went on, "I hope they have cherry pie."

"You know you have to eat all your vegetables if you want pie," said Luke.

"I know." The boy pondered. "Pa, wouldn't it be great if there was a way to just grind up vegetables in a powder and then you could stir them in water and drink them?"

"Grind vegetables to powder!" The big man looked startled. "Son, who would ever be loco enough to waste good vegetables grinding them to powder?"

"They wouldn't be wasted if you drank them," Mark persisted.

Luke shook his head. "Nobody is ever going to want to drink vegetables!"