“I hope you’re all ashamed of yourselves. Not only were you on the edge of committing a felony, you were three big guys about to beat up a lone woman. Not only that, but you’re tardy for school, and that means you’re all going to be in detention this afternoon, which means you’re going to miss football practice. I’m going to be interested to hear what the coach puts you through after I call him and explain the reason. And I will call him.” Harvey raised his eyebrows at me. “That is, unless this lady wants to bring charges against you? If she does, you ain’t going to get to school anytime today.”

I knew a cue when I heard one. I hesitated. Then I nodded, and I saw the tension leave the sheriff’s shoulders. “If you call their football coach, and you’re sure he can give them a good punishment, I’ll be satisfied with that. After all,” I said pointedly, “if I bring charges against them, they’ll be off the team, at least for a while.”

Harvey looked relieved. “Yes, they would be off the team. And of course, their parents would know all about this little fiasco. I figure a felony arrest would sure screw up their college applications, huh? Your dad would love to hear your explanation for this, Scot, especially since he just had to pay for three new mailboxes on Bainbridge Road. Justin, I know your mama had a hard time buying that football jacket.” Justin was weeping too hard to reply, but he did look a little more miserable. “Cody, what do you think your grandmother would have to say about you attacking a woman?”

“We just wanted her to leave town,” Cody muttered. I must not have aimed well when I sprayed him.

My heart was still thumping like a rabbit’s when it hears the dog in the bushes. It was an unpleasant and humiliating feeling, being this frightened. If I hadn’t had my pepper spray, or if the sheriff hadn’t intervened, by this time I’d have a broken jaw, or some fractured ribs. Three big boy/men, only a few years younger than I . . . they might have killed me by sheer stupid accident.

Harvey Branscom was as good as his word. He whipped out his cell phone and called the football coach at the high school, and without spelling out what the boys had almost done, he let the coach know they deserved the worst punishment the coach could hand out. I knew a football coach could hand out plenty, especially in season. I wasn’t dissatisfied with the bargain I’d struck with the sheriff. I thought that in Sarne it was the best I would manage.