![]() ![]() It was the second time the man had done that – started to shed the gloves, but changed his mind. The Secret Service has Field Offices all over the country.”Ī hot wind swept past and Williams watched carefully as McCaril started to remove his work gloves, but stopped. Due to the almost imperceptible rotation the two had made, Williams’s back was no longer to a field it was to the barn.Īnswering McCaril’s question, Williams said, “I work out of Billings. In fact, he had managed to shuffle several inches to his right since Williams had first walked up on the rancher who had been splitting firewood. to investigate?”Īs McCaril asked the question, he’d shifted again ever so slightly. “And they sent a Secret Service agent all the way from Washington, D.C. The rancher cocked his head, the confused look returning. “But every day more trickles in through the banks.” “Ten-thousand, so far,” Williams told him. ![]() “How much money are we talking?” McCaril asked. Even as he rocked from one foot to the other, he seemed grounded firmly while standing here on his acres. ![]() His lean, fifty-year-old frame showed signs of supporting formidable muscles and the memories of how those muscles were obtained. The rancher, Devin McCaril, adjusted his hat and shifted his weight. The rancher scrunched his eyes in confusion and spat off to the side. ![]() Chad Williams, weary of hearing the question, scanned the horizon and inhaled deeply. ![]()
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