Sheriff Santa and the Ghost of Two Gun Jim
A “Sheriff Santa” Story


That was forty years ago . . .
* * *
Kate Timmons told Sheriff Andy Tate, “Stand still, will you?”
“You’re pinching me.”
“We wouldn’t be having this problem if you hadn’t gone and got
yourself shot last year while wearing your Santa suit.”
“Wasn’t my fault somebody tried to rob the bank during our fittin’,”
he complained. “Besides, why couldn’t you just darn the hole?”
“It wasn’t just a hole, Andy,” she said. “You bled all over it.”
“Well, excuse me for bleedin’ when I get shot!”
Kate sat back on her heels and stared up at the man in the red
suit, standing on a stool. They’d been playing this game for many years, and
the townspeople were still waiting for them to make it legal.
“My God, Andy, did you get fatter since last year?” she
demanded.
The Sheriff of Great Bend looked down at his own belly critically.
She said this to him every year.
“I don’t think so,” he said, giving her the same answer.
Before Kate could respond a man rushed into Kate’s Dress Shop.
“Sheriff, that fella Brannigan and his boys are over to the
bank.”
“Which one, Harvey?” he asked. The town had two banks.
“The Great Bend.”
“What are they doin’, Barney?”
”I think they’re gonna rob it.”
Andy Tate looked at Kate, then stepped down from her step stool
and reached for his gun.
“Oh no, Andy Tate, don’t you do this again!” she said.
“I’m sorry, Kate,” he said, “but I gotta go.”
“Don’t you get shot in your Santa suit like you did last year!”
“Kate,” he said, “I’ll try my best not to get shot, at all.”
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