Jim Waring of Sonora-Town Part 42

"And a gun's a gun," said Shoop. "But what evidence you got that Jim Waring killed Bob Brewster and his brother Tony?"

"All I need, pardner. When I thought Andy Brewster was goin' to pa.s.s over, I took his antimortim. But he's livin'. And he is bound over to appear ag'in' Waring. What you say about the killin' over by Stacey ain't got nothin' to do with this here case. I got no orders to hold Andy Brewster, but I'm holdin' him for evidence. And I'm holdin' Waring for premeditated contempt and shootin' to death of said Bob Brewster and his brother Tony. And I got said gun what did it."

"So you pinched Jim's gun, eh? And when he couldn't lift a finger or say a word to stop you. Do you want to know what would happen if you was to try to get a holt of said gun if Jim Waring was on his two feet? Well, Jim Waring would pull said trigger, and Criswell would bury said city marshal."

"The law is the law. This town's payin' me to do my duty, and I'm goin'

to do it."

"Speakin' in general, how much do you owe the town so far?"

"Look-a-here! You can't run no whizzer like that on me. I've heard tell of you, Mr. Shoop. No d.i.n.ky little ole forest ranger can come cantelopin' round here tellin' me my business!"

"Mebby I'm d.i.n.ky, and mebby, I'm old, but your eyesight wants fixin' if you callin' me little, old hoss. An' I ain't tryin' to tell you your business. I'm tellin' you mine, which is that Jim Waring goes to Stacey just the first minute he can put his foot in a buck-board. And he's goin' peaceful. I got a gun on me that says so."

"The law is the law. I can run you in for packin' concealed weapons, Mr.

Shoop."

"Run me in!" chuckled Shoop. "Nope. You'd spile the door. But let me tell you. A supervisor is a deputy sheriff--and that goes anywhere they's a American flag. I don't see none here, but I reckon Criswell is in America. What's the use of your actin' like a goat just because you got chin whiskers? I'm tellin' you Jim Waring done a good job when he beefed them coyotes."

The marshal's pale-blue eyes blinked at the allusion to the goat. "Now, don't you get pussonel, neighbor. The law is the law, and they ain't no use you talkin'."

Bud's lips tightened. The marshal's reiterated reference to the law was becoming irksome. He would be decidedly impersonal henceforth.

"I seen a pair of walkin' overalls once, hitched to a two-bit s.h.i.+rt with a chewin'-tobacco tag on it. All that held that there fella together was his suspenders. I don't recollec' whether he just had goat whiskers or chewed tobacco, but somebody who had been liquorin' up told him he looked like the Emperor Maximilian. And you know what happened to Maxy."

"That's all right, neighbor. But mebby when I put in my bill for board of said prisoner and feed for his hoss and one Mexican, mebby you'll quit talkin' so much, 'less you got friends where you can borrow money."

"Your bill will be paid. Don't you worry about that. What I want to know is: Does Jim Waring leave town peaceful, or have I got to hang around here till he gets well enough to travel, and then show you? I got somethin' else to do besides set on a cracker barrel and swap lies with my friends."

"You can stay or you can go, but the law is the law--"

"And a goat is a goat. All right, hombre, I'll stay."

"As I was sayin'," continued the marshal, ignoring the deepening color of Shoop's face, "you can stay. You're too durned fat to move around safe, anyhow. You might bust."

Shoop smiled. He had stirred the musty marshal to a show of feeling. The marshal, who had keyed himself up to make the thrust, was disappointed.

He made that mistake, common to his kind, of imagining that he could continue that sort of thing with impunity.

"You come prancin' into this town with a strange woman, sayin' that she is the wife of the defendant. Can you tell me how her name is Adams and his'n is Waring?"

"I can!" And with a motion so swift that the marshal had no time to help himself, Bud Shoop seized the other's goatee and yanked him from the cracker barrel. "I got a job for you," said Shoop, grinning until his teeth showed.

And without further argument on his part, he led the marshal through the store and up the street to his own house. The marshal back-paddled and struggled, but he had to follow his chin.

Mrs. Adams answered Bud's knock. Bud jerked the marshal to his knees.

"Apologize to this lady--quick!"

"Why, Mr. Shoop!"

"Yes, it's me, Annie. Talk up, you pizen lizard!"

"But, Bud, you're hurting him!"

"Well, I didn't aim to feed him ice-cream. Talk up, you Gila monster--and talk quick!"

"I apologize," mumbled the marshal.

Bud released him and wiped his hand on his trousers.

"Sticky!" he muttered.

The marshal shook his fist at Bud. "You're under arrest for disturbin'

the peace. You're under arrest!"

"What does it mean?" queried Mrs. Adams.

"Nothin' what he ain't swallowed, Annie. Gosh 'mighty, but I wasted a lot of steam on that there walkin' clothes-rack! The blamed horn toad says he's holdin' Jim for shootin' the Brewsters."

"But he can't," said Mrs. Adams. "Wait a minute; I'll be right out. Sit down, Bud. You are tired out and nervous."

Bud sat down heavily. "Gos.h.!.+ I never come so clost to pullin' a gun in my life. If he was a man, I reckon I'd 'a' done it. What makes me mad is that I let him get _me_ mad."

When Mrs. Adams came out to the porch she had a vest in her hand. Inside the vest was pinned the little, round badge of a United States marshal.

Bud seized the vest, and without waiting to listen to her he plodded down the street and marched into the general store, where the town marshal was talking to a group of curious natives.

"Can you read?" said Bud, and without waiting for an answer shoved the little silver badge under the marshal's nose. "The law is the law,"

said Bud. "And that there vest belongs to Jim Waring."

Bud had regained his genial smile. He was too full of the happy discovery to remain silent.

"Gentlemen," he said, a.s.suming a manner, "did your honorable peace officer here tell you what he said about the wife of the man who is layin' wounded and helpless in his own house? And did your honorable peace officer tell you-all that it is her money that is payin' for the board and doctorin' of Tony Brewster, likewise layin' wounded and helpless in your midst? And did your honorable peace officer tell you that Jim Waring is goin' to leave comfortable and peaceful just as soon as the A'mighty and the doc'll turn him loose? Well, I seen he was talkin' to you, and I figured he might 'a' been tellin' you these things, but I wa'n't sure. Was you-all thinkin' of stoppin' me? Such doin's! Why, when I was a kid I used to ride into towns like this frequent, turn 'em bottom side up, spank 'em, and send 'em bawlin' to their--to their city marshal, and I ain't dead yet. Now, I come peaceful and payin' my way, but if they's any one here got any objections to how I wear my vest or eat my pie, why, he can just oil up his objection, load her, and see that she pulls easy and shoots straight. I ain't no charity organization, but I'm handin' you some first-cla.s.s life insurance free."

That afternoon Buck Hardy arrived, accompanied by a deputy. Andy Brewster again made deposition that without cause Waring had attacked and killed his brothers. Hardy had a long consultation with Shoop, and later notified Brewster that he was under arrest as an accomplice in the murder of Pat and for aiding the murderer to escape. While circ.u.mstantial evidence pointed directly toward the Brewsters, who had threatened openly from time to time to "get" Pat, there was valuable evidence missing in Waco, who, it was almost certain, had been an eye-witness of the tragedy. Waco had been traced to the town of Grant, at which place Hardy and his men had lost the trail. The demolished buckboard had been found by the roadside. Hardy had tracked the automobile to Grant.

Shoop suggested that Waco might have taken a freight out of town.

Despite Hardy's argument that Waco had nothing to fear so far as the murder was concerned, Shoop realized that the tramp had been afraid to face the law and had left that part of the country.

Such men were born cowards, irresolute, weak, and treacherous even to their own infrequent moments of indecision. There was no question but that Waring had acted within the law in killing the Brewsters. Bob Brewster had fired at him at sight. But the fact that one of the brothers survived to testify against Waring opened up a question that would have to be answered in court. Shoop offered the opinion that possibly Andy Brewster, the youngest of the brothers, was not directly implicated in the murder, only taking sides with his brother Bob when he learned that he was a fugitive. In such a premise it was not unnatural that his bitterness toward Waring should take the angle that it did. And it would be difficult to prove that Andy Brewster was guilty of more than aiding his brother to escape.

The sheriff and Shoop talked the matter over, with the result that Hardy dispatched a telegram from The Junction to all the Southern cities to keep a sharp watch for Waco.

Next morning Shoop left for Jason with Hardy and his deputy.

Several days later Waring was taken to The Junction by Mrs. Adams and Ramon, where Ramon left them waiting for the east-bound. The Mexican rode the big buckskin. He had instructions to return to the ranch.

Late that evening, Waring was a.s.sisted from the train to the hotel at Stacey. He was given Lorry's old room. It would be many weeks before he would be strong enough to walk again.

For the first time in his life Waring relinquished the initiative. His wife planned for the future, and Waring only a.s.serted himself when she took it for granted that the hotel would be his permanent home.