Well, this was another fine mess I'd gotten myself into. I kicked my horse into a gallop. I had a long time to go and a short way to get there, and before the posse gets me.
It's not helping that my mind is throwing paraphrases from Oliver Hardy and Jerry Reed that would be anachronistic here in 1887. Besides, my trail was more northbound and up. Still, I did shoot the sheriff, but he was between me and saving a few million people.
Now, if I found the temporal taxi before the posse caught up, I'd save another world.
