I recognized a man in one of the pictures as Detective Neil. The ledger book recorded amounts of silver bullion the Sheriff gave to Michael, presumabl... Detective Neil, and the number of suspects turned over for interrogation. The entries were regular, spaced 1 week apart. The diary included notes on travels to other dimensions made by the Sheriff before being assigned to this post.His duties in Fry included watching for strangers that passed through the gate and accounting for the bullion mined. As I crossed the yard I heard him again.“Puta. Maricón.” And I could hear him laughing. He had every reason to laugh at me and to call me those names because that is exactly what I was, at least for him. He had me, he owned me, and despite my humiliation and the shame I felt for giving him my ass again and for drinking down all of his warm salty urine, once again I felt exhilarated. bother to pull them up. Yeah, I am a bit of an exhibitionist but I really didn’t think anyone was around so. More

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