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"Give him ten dollars, then," Willie told Harry.
Randolph pawed the dust with his boot. "What the h.e.l.l's the fuss about? He said he was satisfied."
Willie glanced at the people watching this from the boardwalk and knew that what he did next might make or break him. He possessed a certain amount of reasonableness, but he had pa.s.sed it. He ripped Harry's wallet from his pocket, leaving a long strip of cloth dangling. He gave the merchant a ten dollar gold piece, and herded the man across the street to the bakery. This time Randolph paid without additional urging.
Kerry said: "Get this straight.. .1 don't give a d.a.m.n if you break every window in town. I don't care if you wreck the saloon, but whatever you do, you pay for it, either in cash or in jail. No man is free. If you think you are, then fork your horse and get out of here. This town can't use you."
Randolph took this without a flicker coming across his bruised face. He murmured: "I just learned somethin' about you, Kerry. You ain't like Harms at all."
Kileen's crowd layered the saloon porch three deep. They parted to let Randolph through, but none of them followed him inside.
Willie reentered the hotel, and finished his cold meal. Louise had never left the table during the interruption. She gave him a small smile when he pushed his plate back to roll a smoke.
He said: "You got a lot of confidence... sittin' here like that."
"it made a good impression on the crowd," Louise said, and laughed nervously.
Willie noticed that her hands trembled, and he covered them with his own until the trembling stopped.
The girl who had pulled at Randolph's arm came in, and crossed to their table. She said in a small voice: "Can 1 sit down?"
Willie rose, and handed her into a chair. She was a small girl, barely out of her teens, her body softly molded with the first grace of womanhood.
"What's bothering you?" Kerry asked. "Randolph?"
She folded her hands in her lap and nodded. "Is he in trouble now?"
Willie pulled smoke out of his cigarette, then said: "Randolph just had his trouble. If he wants any more, all he has to do is act big for his britches."
"What's your name?" Louise asked her, and gave her a smile that made instant friends.
"Nanon DeBardon," the girl said. "I...that is, Harry and 1 keep company. Sometimes 1 worry about him. He and Dillon see a lot of each other."
"Who is Dillon?" Willie asked.
"kileen's foreman," Nanon said. "He's a mean man, 1 think. He puts ideas into Harry's head. 1 think he pushed him tonight." Kileen entered just then, and the girl rose quickly. "1 have to go now," she said breathlessly, and hurried out through the back door.
Kileen stopped at Kerry's table. "Can a man sit down?" His eyes followed the girl until she disappeared.
"Help yourself," Kerry invited, and introduced his wife. Kileen laid his hat on the floor, but he was ill at ease.
"Was that a sample of law 1 saw out there?"
"That was justice," Kerry told him. "Sometimes there's a difference. A man answers for what he does... drunk or sober. Don't ever forget it."
"Harry did that just to find out what you'd do."
"Then he found out," Willie said. He snuffed out his smoke in his coffee cup. "Kileen, understand something. Harms and 1 never got along. He was an easy-go in' windbag, for my money. If he'd been out there tonight, he might have laughed it off, if he was in the mood. Maybe tomorrow his mood would be different, and he'd have pistol-whipped Harry. 1 don't tick that way. What's fair for you is fair for me and the next guy."
"We like to settle our own troubles," Kileen stated. "That's where Harms and me never agreed. He wanted to settle everything his way."
Kerry tapped the badge. "This is the law, Kileen, and you better not forget it. If I can't do what's right, then I'll take this thing off and give it to a man that can." He saw no resentment at his words and added: "My wife and I want a house. Know where we can rent one?"
The man leaned back in his chair and gazed wonderingly at Kerry. He lighted a cigar, and puffed until smoke floated around the table, thick and strong. "Kerry," he said, "I just can't figure you out. These people resent your coming here. Can't you see that? They don't want your law. They want to govern themselves."
"From what I've seen," Willie said, "I'm surprised they can blow their own noses."
Kileen waved it aside. "Randolph was just tryin' out his muscles. 1 mean it, Kerry. These people will resist you with everything they've got. Your missus will have a hard time of it, too."
"1 had a horse once," Willie told him. "Pretty thing, but wild as all get out. When that horse got ornery, 1 pounded the liver out of him. When he behaved himself, then 1 fed him sugar. Right now that horse and me are the best of friends."
Kileen knew when not to argue. He said: "I never liked that hill bunch, and I'll tell you why. They said we was crazy to come out here... maybe we was, but it worked out all right. They wouldn't loan us money or nothin'. ..not even credit at the stores. It was a rough go, 1 can tell you that, but now we've got it made. We got a bank and our own town, and we hate like h.e.l.l to be treated like a long lost cousin just because we got a little money." He rose, and picked up his hat. "I'll have a house for you and your missus in the morning. Good night to you."
Louise watched until he went out, then said in a soft voice: "He's a nice man, Willie."
They spent the next ten days moving into the new house and cleaning up the grounds. Willie took to lounging on the verandah of the hotel. It afforded him a clean view of the town. By nature he was a man who minded his own business and gave the desert people a chance to mind theirs. He caused a moment's discontent and resentment when he broke up a fight during the Sat.u.r.day night dance. However, he herded the combatants outside and allowed them to settle it to everyone's satisfaction. In these ten days he had changed hostile stares to brief, curt nods. Louise had gained a speaking foothold with several ladies of the town.
For all of its stiff-backed independence, Willie Kerry found that he liked Morgan Tanks. He found the men to be tough and just, providing they weren't stepped on. He saw Harry Randolph frequently, and the man seemed to hold no grudge, for Kerry's greeting was civilly answered. Once he even paused to talk of the weather and the cattle situation at the railhead.
Another noon found Kerry on the hotel verandah, his feet on the railing and his hat low over his eyes to shut out the glare of the sun. Heat bounced and shimmered from the fawn-colored dust of the street. He turned his head as a rider pounded into town and dismounted by the saloon. Willie watched him go in, then crossed after him a moment later.
Bob Overmile leaned against the bar, and Willie sided him. "Kinda off your feed, ain't you?"
"They found Sam Harms," Overmile said, and cut off his talk until the bartender gave him his beer and moved away.
Willie's voice was cautious. "When and where?"
"Two days ago," Overmile stated. "Dead. Looks like he wandered out on the desert and lost himself. Anyway his canteen was empty. We found his horse about eight miles away ...picked clean, too."
"Been shot?"
"1 guess not," Bob said. "Saber was along, and he couldn't find any bones where a bullet tore through him. It's his guess that Sam was after somebody and got balled up in his own stupidity."
"Any idea who he was after?"
Overmile shrugged. "Buck Dillon, Saber thinks. Buck Kileen's top man. You knew Kileen was havin' trouble?"
"No," Willie said. "1 been walkin' like a cat on sparrow eggs. What kinda trouble's Kileen got?"
"Same old stuff," Overmile said. "Some fella named Pickering over on the north edge is gettin' ambitious. Seems that there was already a couple of shots fired, and Dillon fired 'em both. Saber figures that's what Harms went after him for. He didn't want a shootin' war to start." Overmile glanced out the door at the street. "I think I'll start back. This place gives me the creeps."
Kerry waited until he left, then went to the end of the street and got his horse from the stable. He saddled, and rode from town, cutting out on the vast dryness toward Kileen's place. Here the desert was rich and fertile. Irrigation ditches ran a rifle straight course for miles, with branching arms spreading wetness into the land.
Two hours later he sighted the ranch house and didn't check his pace until he came to the edge of the barn. A dullfaced man stepped out of the open doorway and said: "That's as far as any hill sheriff comes around here." He wore a gun in a low holster, and his eyes studied Kerry with an open hostility.
"You're Dillon," Kerry said, crossing his hands on the saddle horn.
"That's right," Dillon agreed. "Now turn that horse and hightail it outta here."
"1 knew a fella that was impulsive like you once," Willie said slowly. "A man like that ought not bring his gun to town. He might get riled up and shoot somebody."
A muscle flickered in Dillon's cheek. "1 come to town often, and 1 always carry a gun. It's got to be a habit with me, and I'm a man that don't like to change." Willie gave him no answer, just lifted the reins to move. The man's loud voice halted him. "I told you to get out of here!"
"1 heard you," Kerry said, and rapped the horse with his heels.
Buck Dillon had intended to hold his ground, but the plunging roan changed his mind. He leaped aside at the last minute, and Willie rode on up to the ranch house.
Kileen waited on the porch, his eyes humorous and slightly troubled. "Buck will hold that against you, Kerry. He don't like his bluffs to backfire on him that way."
"What's the difference," Willie said. "if it wasn't this, then he'd think up somethin' else. He's that kind." He dismounted, and sat on the porch rail. "What was Harms after Dillon for?"
Kerry laid the question out quickly, but Kileen showed no surprise. It was as if he had been expecting it. He lighted a cigar. "Buck's a wild one, Kerry, but not a dyed-in-the-wool badman. Harms wanted him to lay off Pickering's man before he got a war started, but Buck didn't have any respect for Harms and paid him no mind. Harms went to arrest Buck and got led a merry chase to h.e.l.l and gone south of here. That's the last we saw of Harms."
Willie said: "Saber and a bunch found Harms. The heat got him."
Kileen let out a ragged breath. "You know," he said, "1 been worried. 1 thought maybe Buck had shot him."
"What's this beef between you and Pickering?"
"Nothin', actually," Kileen stated. "Pickering's got a hardcase foreman that wants to do a good job. He figures that if he snips off a little of my property and presents it to the boss, then he'll get a pat on the head. Of course, 1 have the same problem. Buck Dillon wants to show me what a good watchdog he is, and he'll run me into a war if he ain't careful. Sometimes 1 feel like givin' him his walkin' papers, but then he's a h.e.l.l of a good man in other respects."
"It's my job to cool this thing off," Kerry said. "Where can I find Pickering?"
"This is Monday," Kileen said. "He comes into Morgan Tanks every Monday night for his supplies and a poker game. Dillon goes in, too...sorta hopin' some thin'll happen. He's a persistent cuss."
"Thanks," Willie said. "You've been a big help." He left the porch, then turned and asked: "What made you change your mind about the law, Kileen?"
"I ain't changed it," the rancher replied. "1 still want to see my town the county seat of a new county. Howsomever, I have changed my mind about you. There's somethin' outstandin' about you, Kerry."
A flush of pleasure filled Kerry, but he let none of it show in his face. In this straight-laced country, compliments were rare. He nodded and swung up, riding from the yard.
III.
He left his house around seven and walked up the darkening street to the center of town. With sundown came a cooling breeze to wash away the searing heat of the day, and Morgan Tanks became a lively little town. Horses stood at the hitch racks, lining the street. Parked buggies added to the jam of traffic. He took his chair on the hotel verandah, and settled down with his feet on the railing.
Nanon DeBardon came out of the mercantile across the street, saw him, and crossed to where he sat. She set her groceries down, and a sudden confusion seemed to grip her.
"What's troubling you?" Kerry asked.
"Harry hasn't been around for three days," Nanon stated. "He's been with Buck Dillon."
"Dillon isn't a criminal," Kerry said. "Harry's a grown man. He has a right to pick his company."
"Dillon's bad for him," Nanon said with some heat. "He puts foolish notions in Harry's head."
Willie took the makings from his shirt pocket, and rolled a smoke. He didn't like advice when it was given to him; in the same breath, he loathed giving it. But the girl was sincere and worried, and it had an effect on the tall, quiet man. "A man's a funny animal," he said. "He'll beat a horse or a dog or even another man because they're bull-headed, but if he wasn't the same way himself, he wouldn't be doin' it. Let's say that 1 got Harry away from Buck, then what? He'll tie in with the next ringtail that comes along, and you're right back where you started. It's a rough world, Nanon. Let the boy go. If he goes to h.e.l.l now, then it's better than waitin' until you got three kids. He'll either come out of it, or he won't. Poundin' a man over the head with his lessons is no good. Experience is a crazy teacher... you get the experience first, and the lessons afterward."
"Men are so coldly logical," Nanon said.
"Nope," Willie contradicted. "They want to bawl and raise h.e.l.l just like a woman, but they don't. They got a lot of false pride that a woman ain't got. When it comes down to makin' a practical bargain, you can't beat a woman."
Nanon kneaded her hands. "If your wife's at home ...I wondered if she'd mind my talking to her."
"She'd be delighted," Willie said, and watched Nanon scurry down the street.
He idled an hour away, then lifted his head as Harry Randolph came out of the saloon, and stood for a moment on the porch.
The man fastened his eyes on Kerry, then came to a decision, and crossed the dust. Randolph sat on the porch rail, facing the sheriff, and said: "1 hear you and Buck had words."
"He did most of the talking," Kerry admitted. He noticed that the young man wore no gun.
"Dillon'll wear his gun tonight," Randolph stated. "He's that kind."
"And I'll take it away from him," Kerry said. "I'm that kind."
Interest rose in Randolph's eyes. "This might be worth seeing. Dillon's no plum, Sheriff."
"My observation," Willie said, "is that a man'll go around makin' threats 'cause he's tryin' to prove something. Usually he's tryin' to prove he's tough.. .not to anyone else, but to himself."
"You got an answer to everything, ain't you?"
"Yep," Kerry admitted, "and usually the wrong one." He stopped talking as Dillon rode in from the east. He gave Kerry a bold glance in pa.s.sing, and pulled in before the hitch rack across the street. He wore his gun low against his thigh and shifted it as he dismounted. Dillon gave the sheriff another quick look, then opened the doors of the saloon, drawing his gun at the same time.
Sound bucketed up and down the street, rolling over the town as he announced his arrival with a shot into the ceiling. Kerry left the porch unhurriedly and crossed the dust. Randolph followed three paces behind him. Townspeople filled the boardwalk, and Kerry understood that word had gone around.
The saloon was crowded with noise and men. The gun coughed again, followed by the tinkle of splintered gla.s.s. Kerry stepped in the door as Dillon shattered another bottle with his .44 Colt. The man gave Kerry a brazen grin and said: "Well, well, the sheriff. 1 was just havin' a little fun. You don't mind me havin' fun, do you?"
Willie narrowed the distance with each step. "1 guess your hearin' was outta whack the other day." His voice was low and cool, and it wiped the grin from Buck Dillon's face.
Dillon shifted the gun, pointing it at Kerry's middle. "Hold it where you are! I guess you're one of them crazy men that ain't got sense enough to know when a man means somethin'."
Willie halted three feet away from the man. He raised a hand easily and shoved his hat to the back of his head. "h.e.l.l," he said mildly, "we can talk this over, can't we?"
Dillon grinned then, and he let out a relieved breath. Willie whipped off his hat, and slapped the man across the face with the stiff brim. The gun went off, gouging out a long splinter from the floor, and Dillon staggered blindly. Willie clubbed a forearm down across the gun hand, sending the weapon to the floor with a sharp clatter.
He hit Dillon with a doubled fist, driving him back against his friends, and following to sledge him again. Dillon went to his knees, still half blinded and numb from the blows. Kerry placed his hat back on his head, and tugged it at the proper angle.
Dillon was getting his eyes to focus again when Kerry stepped into him. The man tried to put up a fight, but Willie kept hitting him before he could set himself. Dillon bled freely from the nose and mouth. Kerry pounded him flat, and the man stayed there. Willie picked up the fallen gun, and dropped it into a spittoon, then hoisted Dillon to his shoulder, and left the saloon.
Men poured out of the building, and followed him to the small jail. He locked the groaning man in one of the small cells, and closed the outside door. Harry Randolph eyed Kerry when he stepped to the boardwalk. The man grinned and rubbed his jaw. "Know just how Buck feels," he said, and turned, shoving his way through the crowd.
Men stood in silence, but the sheriff saw that it wasn't sullen. It gave him some encouragement. He said: "From now on there won't be any guns worn in Morgan Tanks. Leave them at some business place when you come to town. Pick 'em up on the way out."
A man in the front row muttered: "h.e.l.l."
Willie focused his attention on him. "You wear one and see what happens."
"I just saw," the man said. That broke up the gathering.