His circuit court included a large stretch of Texas and the panhandle and he worked hard to ensure that a man arrested in his region received a fair trial even if he was guilty as hell.

He also knew that the circuits around him were often not as unbiased and that having a judge in your pocket was something the large ranch owners in the area took pride in. Which was why he was so surprised when the telegram came directing him to Flint Rock.

The town was built, bought and run by a Texas rancher named Bo Michaels and some said just existed for his and his family's amusement and use. His family included 2 brothers and a sister, just as mean as he was, all inherited from their late father. Everyone knew the law, the courts and government in that section was under his control. Michaels wouldn't let a man like him in to decide something unless this part of Texas had turned upside down; and pulling his buggy to a stop at the entrance to town he sat back and decided it had.

The four lawmen with him, also honest and also requested, stopped and drew their horses in and just stared.

"Was it a tornado?" one of the deputies gasped.

"If it was there had to be at least two of them," another decided.

Callahan leaned forward hoping it would make more sense if he squinted. The town looked like it had been hoorahed by the escapees from an opening of the flood gates of hell. Buildings were smashed to rubble, outhouses on roofs, and bathtubs in trees. Some were burnt to the ground and were still smoldering. And everywhere there was debris, clothes, tin cans, sacks of feed. It was as if some great giant had picked up the town and shook it.

"It seems we got here a little too late to stop whatever it was that happened," Judge Callahan said exhaling. "What exactly did your telegram say Sheriff?"

"Just to get down here, some miscarriage of justice had been averted and they wanted impartial law sorting it out."

"Well something was averted, but it certainly wasn't Armageddon," the Judge said dryly and clicking the reins moved his horses forward.

"Sure is quiet," a deputy said swallowing.

"I hear something up ahead," his friend said drawing his gun from its all ready unhooked holster.

Turning the corner the group once more stopped in disbelief.

Originally, and this they were certain about, a saloon had not been next door to the jail. This saloon in particular, the Golden Slipper, had been across the street and four doors down; and yet now here it sat cozied right up to the jail even to the point of sharing a wall…well if there had been a wall.

Oh the jail still had three…or the one cell that remained standing did. The door was still firmly bolted, not that it mattered much with the roof gone.

Tucked right along next to it was the main floor of the saloon. There was still the bar and the beer kegs and the hurdy gurdy was playing happily, but as far as any permanent building it was clean gone except for a stairwell that led up, but that was about it.

Several tables were set up, but all the attention was on a poker game half in the jail and half in the saloon between 7 men. A second group of men were watching cheering enthusiastically as each hand finished.

At the bar an older blond woman was cleaning glasses and yelling at the cowboys to stop shooting at the ceiling until she got one again.

Judge Callahan considered all this and then putting the brake on his buggy climbed down and handed the reins to a young man nearby and walked over to the group just congratulating a handsome dark haired young man on his winnings.

"Gentlemen," he said with great dignity. "I am Judge Callahan. Ranger Pearson is that you?" he said suddenly recognizing one of the poker players

"Yes sir," the lawman said standing politely. "Good of you to come sir."

"I don't suppose you could give me a quick synopsis about why?"

"This gentleman here sir is Sheriff Lom Trevors of Porterville, Wyoming," the Ranger said indicating the man playing poker from inside the jail.

"I read about him, something about being arrested and convicted of murder. I see their report that the hanging was supposed to take place yesterday was an error."

"Ah yes sir," Trevors said standing politely. "Little difference of opinion on that."

Someone almost laughed, but swallowed it quickly when the Judge's steely gaze settled over the other members of the group.

"And the rest of you are?"

"Friends of Sheriff Trevors. I'm Joshua Smith and this is Mr. Thaddeus Jones of Wyoming," the dark haired winner of the last poker hand said standing with a friendly smile.

"Judge," his partner said standing just as respectfully.

"Marshall Jared Stone out of Colorado," another man said rising.

"My we do have quite a group of lawmen here don't we."

"And Bannermen!" a voice popped up from the bar where a thin weasel faced man was leaning. "Harry Briscoe sir at your service."

"Patrick J. McCreedy," a larger older man said relighting his cigar.

"Rancher at Red Rock?" the Judge asked.

"That I am," McCreedy said clearly feeling he was important enough he didn't have to stand.

"And this here is Wheat Carlson, Jim Stokely, Trampas and my cousin…" Trevors finished.

"Folks call me the Virginian," the tall man said rising and the Judge quickly noted the similarity.

"And the lovely lady behind the bar?" the Judge said, once a southern gentleman, always a southern gentleman.

"Jenny, Judge can I buy you a drink?"

"I think a bottle ma'am would be more useful," he sighed looking around. "I don't suppose there is a hotel left?"

"Oh yes sir!" the one named Jones said heartily. "Best one in town!”

"Course it is missing the front wall, but you get a real nice breeze off the prairie at night, you'll sleep like a baby," the one named Smith smiled.

“I’m sure I will,” the Judge said dryly.

“Riley here will take your bags over Judge,” Jenny smiled quickly indicating the boy who had taken his carriage reins.

"Thank you," he said and taking the bottle Jenny offered him moved to return to his carriage. "I'd like to have some supper and then perhaps I can start hearing this amazing tale one at a time, I'll let you gentlemen work out the order.” He stopped. “I don’t suppose I want to know what happened to the rest of the town."

"Well that's kind of a long story Judge…" Smith smiled cheerfully.

The Judge held up his hand and walked away. "I can hardly wait."

Want to hear everyone's version of what happened? Read on!

Karen McVeigh
Ann Stolfa
Dana De Vos
Marti Carlson
Sharon Kennison
Tina Belcher
Drena Hills

Halloween Round Robin! Ann wrote the beginning of a spooky ASJ Halloween story and the writers from our list all took a turn giving their version of how it ended! Here is what we came up with one dark and stormy night!

Beth Hinkle
Ann Stolfa
Dana De Vos
Kara Wilson & Tina Belcher
Sharon Kennison
Susan Moore
Terri Sutro
Drena Hills