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I headed out towards Mexia again the next morning. It only took an hour again. I headed straight for the Marshal's office. I was in luck. He was in his office. I went inside, and he rose from his desk. He recognized me and extended his hand. I shook it, wondering what was up."Well, well, well. If it isn't the hero of the day! So glad you managed to get back here," he said."To what do I own that honor?" I asked."Well, it seems that McGrew busted out of Huntsville some time back, killing a couple of the guards. That old Cayuse, Michael Finnigan, helped him. He was identified by one of the guards just afore he kicked off. I wired Huntsville for the particulars. Seems the state put up a five thousand dollar reward for each of them, dead or alive!"I was indeed flabbergasted at the news. I just stood there, slack-jawed."That's not all. The Johnson brothers want to reward you for saving their shipment. There was nothing we could do for his man, Sam. He took a couple of slugs. He was all. “This is some kind of trick, Gloria,” he spat at his wife.But she didn’t hear. She was gawking in disbelief at Becky’s overinflated physique. She looked as confused as Ernesto, but she was smiling.“No trick,” Becky said, resting her hands on her hips. “Just girl power. Pure, unadulterated girl power. You get thwee chances to hurt this body. Then I get to hit you.”Becky’s green eyes burned with steely confidence as Ernesto picked his next move. The karate master flashed forward suddenly, and brought a spinning backfist down into Becky’s right arm, where the deltoids met the triceps. I had seen that move in kung-fu movies. It was supposed to cripple an opponent’s arm, or at least make it useless for fighting. But of course Becky Finklestein was no ordinary opponent. The force of the punch was so great that it knocked Ernesto off his feet as his hand bounced uselessly off of the ten year old’s bloated musculature. Becky didn’t even blink. “That’s one,” she chirped. “You pwobably don’t.
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