Sheriff Daniels made his way to his desk. He opened a drawer, extracting another file. He placed the manila folder on top of his desk, and closed the drawer. He picked up the receiver of his office telephone, and dialed a number he knew all too well.

It was 7:30 on the am side of the dial. Time to bring Matt Cochran into custody. Soon, he too, would join the morning's festivities.

The Sheriff thought to himself, "It is so good to be the law in Astatula!"

But, these were two arrestees Sheriff Daniels never thought he would ever make. A day in an unlocked cell, under his watchful eye, was the prescription the doctor ordered for both of these little culprits he cared so much about.

Neither one of them needed to know he had spoken to Old Man Penzler, or that no charges would be filed against either boy. A little time to think now would go a long way in preventing Cody and Matt from picking a Warden's Bouquet later.

Sheriff Daniels poured himself another cup of piping hot java. He liked it strong and black. He dared not allow Cody to see the smile on his face. With a mountain of work to attend to, he awaited the arrival of his other guest.

Matt's father brought him into the Sheriff's Office. The boy did not realize he was in cahoots with the Sheriff. Matt was surprised to see Cody sitting in a cell and gave him a quizzical look.

Sheriff Daniels immediately instructed Matt to place his hands behind his back because he was under arrest for vandalism.

Matt looked shocked by what the Sheriff said, and turned to his father for help.

"Dad, do something, please!" he plead to no avail, whining, "I don't want to go to jail!"

"What do you want me to do, Matt?" his father casually asked him.

"I don't know," Matt answered him, then said, "tell Sheriff Daniels not to arrest me!"

Unsympathetically, his father replied, "You should have thought about the consequences of your actions before you and Cody vandalized Penzler's barn, son."

For good measure he told him, "You did the crime. You can certainly do the time."

Matt stood there taking it all in. He was not sure what he should do.

His father continued with, "You heard the Sheriff, son. Better do what you were told to do and put your hands behind your back. You wouldn't want to add resisting arrest to your Rap Sheet would you?"

Feeling hopelessly lost, Matt softly responded, "No, sir. I wouldn't."

He slowly placed his hands behind his back.

Sheriff Daniels grasped him by the upper right arm and led him to the cell opposite Cody's where the two boys could stare at each other.

"In you go now, Matt," Sheriff Daniels told him.

Matt looked back at his father one last time and stepped inside the cell.

Sheriff Daniels closed the door behind him.

With a silent nod, Matt's father departed the Sheriff's Office, leaving his son to stew in his own juices.

"You two hooligans sit here and think real long and hard about why you're in jail," Sheriff Daniels firmly instructed the boys, telling them, "you are not to do anything else."

Knowing he had their attention, he added, "I have a lot of work to do today, and I best not hear as much as the slightest, single, solitary, littlest peep out of either one of you. Because if I do, you're both going into Solitary Confinement. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Matt?"

Matt tenderly sat on his metal bunk. He was on the verge of tears.

He politely responded to the Sheriff's question with, "Yes, sir. You won't hear one sound out of me. I'll be real good, and quiet, for you. I promise."

Sheriff Daniels looked at Cody and asked him, "Do you understand what I just said, Cody?"

There was no reply from the youngster.

So, a little more firmly, the Sheriff asked him again, "Do you understand what I just said to you, Cody?"

"Yes, sir," Cody responded with tears in his eyes. He quickly added, "I'm sorry for what I did."

"Nowhere near as sorry as the two of you are going to be!" the Sheriff sternly warned the boys, "Especially if you ever pull another stunt like this one again!"

Cody and Matt nodded their heads they understood the Sheriff's message loud and clear.

They replied, "Yes, sir!"

He then repeated himself once again, saying, "Not one sound out of either one of you! I have a lot of work to get done and I will not tolerate interruptions today!"

Still seated on their bunks, the boys responded in unison, "Yes, sir."

They looked at each other. Neither one of them could believe they were caged jailbirds and their wings had been clipped. The morning crept by ever so slowly for Cody and Matt. Each torturous second they silently sat in their cells seemed like an eternity.

Instead of being outside running free, and playing like boys their age should be, they were locked away in a place they did not want to be. Sheriff Daniels steadily worked, and watched them, until noon.

At lunch time he fed his two special prisoners a ham and cheese sandwich. He provided them a glass of milk to wash their food down with. When they were finished eating, he opened both of their unlocked cell doors.

Cody and Matt bolted out of their cells faster than greased lightning striking. They ran straight to the Sheriff and hugged him tightly like they would never turn him loose.

Finally, Sheriff Daniels told them, "Let's go. You two have a barn to paint."

Cody and Matt could not wait to leave the Sheriff's Station. Sitting in complete silence all morning, and being locked up in a cell, had taught them both the lesson Sheriff Daniels wanted them to learn. He knew they would never see the inside of prison walls again.

The Sheriff, and the eighty-six-year-old Penzler, sat comfortably in wicker rocking chairs on the wooden porch of Penzler's modest shack. They spent the leisurely afternoon drinking ice cold lemonade and whiling away the day in pleasant conversation.

They watched as the shirtless Cody, with the sun's rays warming up his back, and reddening his shoulders, as well as the barefoot Matt, toiled in the blazing hot Texas heat.

The boys painted the best looking barn Astatula had ever seen. Just like the Sheriff told them better be the end result of their hard labor...if they bloody well knew what was good for them!

The boys knew all too well what was good for them.