Deer Run Trail, By David R LewisNodaway Trail, by David R LewisOn the Calico Trail, by David R LewisOn the Payback Trail, by David R LewisOn the Ogallala Trail, by David R LewisOn the Killdeer Trail, by David R LewisOn the Cutthroat Trail, by David R LewisGlory Trail, by David R LewisEndless Journey Toward an Unknown Destination, by David R LewisIncidents Among the Savages, by David R LewisFear of the Father:  Call Me Crockett, by David R Lewis

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The Ghost Who Walks

He wore black horned-rimmed classes, a subtle smile, and a deeply bent sense of humor.  His name was Dan Rhineholt, and he and I were cops on the same department.  Dan had been a deputy sheriff in my county for over a year, but had transferred to our city department out of boredom with country roads.  He was assigned to me on the three to 11 shift for a few weeks – to gauge his mettle.  In retrospect, I believe command may have decided that if he could stand riding with me, he could stand riding with almost anybody.

I first noticed the twisted way he dealt with the world one Saturday night.  A deeply intoxicated young man, wearing only his tidy-whities, had passed out on the lawn of a 12-story apartment building facing a major street.  A small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk by the time we arrived.  Rhineholt checked for a pulse, glanced upward toward the top of the building, and turned to me.

“God!” he said. “What a drop. I wonder what made him jump?”

The crowd dispersed in seconds.

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