LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

he returned shortly, his voice coming with a truculent snap. “You wantin’ the sheriff?”

      Hollis saw a swift, significant glance pass between him and Greasy and he smiled slightly.

      “Yes,” he returned quietly; “we want you. We are delivering this man into your custody.”

      “What’s he done?” demanded the sheriff.

      “I charge him with stealing two of my steers,” returned Hollis. “Several of my men discovered him at work the day before yesterday and—”

      “Hold on a minute now!” interrupted the sheriff. “Let’s git this thing goin’ accordin’ to the law.” He spat again into the wooden box, cocked his head sideways and surveyed Hollis with a glance in which there was much insolence and contempt. “Who might you be?” he questioned.

      “My name is Hollis,” returned the latter quietly, his eyes meeting the other’s steadily. “I own the Circle Bar.”

      “H’m!” The sheriff crossed his legs and stuck his thumbs into the arm-holes of his vest, revealing a nickle-plated star on the lapel of the latter. “H’m. Your name’s Hollis, an’ you own the Circle Bar. Seems I’ve heard of you.” He squinted his eyes at Hollis. “You’re Jim Hollis’s boy, ain’t you?” His eyes flashed with a sudden, contemptuous light. “Tenderfoot, ain’t you? Come out here to try an’ show folks how to run things?”

      Hollis’s face slowly paled. He saw Greasy grinning. “I suppose it makes little difference to you what I am or what I came out here for,” he said quietly; “though, if I were to be required to give an opinion I should say that there is room for improvement in this county in the matter of applying its laws.”

      The sheriff laughed harshly. “You’ll know more about this country after you’ve been here a while,” he sneered.

      “Mebbe he’ll know more about how to run a law shebang, too,” dryly observed Norton, “after he’s watched Bill Watkins run her a little.”

      “I don’t reckon anyone ast you to stick your gab in this here affair?” demanded the sheriff of Norton.

      “No,” returned Norton, drawling, “no one asked me. But while we’re handin’ out compliments we might as well all have a hand in it. It strikes me that when a man’s runnin’ a law shop he ought to run her.”

      “I reckon I’ll run her without any help from you, Norton!” snapped the sheriff.

      “Why, sure!” agreed the latter, his gaze level as his eyes met the sheriff’s, his voice even and sarcastic. “But I’m tellin’ you that this man’s my friend an’ if there’s any more of them compliments goin’ to be handed around I’m warnin’ you that you want to hand them out soft an’ gentle like. That’s all. I reckon we c’n now proceed.”

      The sheriff’s face bloated poisonously. He flashed a malignant glance at Hollis. “Well,” he snapped, “what’s the charge?”

      “I have already told you,” returned Hollis. “It is stealing cattle.”

      “How stealin’ them?” demanded the Sheriff truculenty.

      “Changing the brand,” Hollis informed him. He related how Ace and Weary had come upon the prisoner while the latter was engaged in changing his brand to the Circle Cross.

      “They see him brandin’?” questioned the sheriff when Hollis had concluded.

      Hollis told him that the two men had come upon Greasy after the brand had been applied, but that the cattle bore the Circle Bar ear-mark, and that Greasy had built a fire and that branding irons had been found in his possession–which which he had tried to hide when discovered by the Circle Bar men.

      “Then your men didn’t really see him doin’ the brandin’?” questioned Watkins.

      Hollis was forced to admit that they had not. Watkins smiled sarcastically.

      “I reckon you’re runnin’ a little bit wild,” he remarked. “Some of your stock has been rebranded an’ you’re chargin’ a certain man with doin’ it–only you didn’t see him doin’ it.” He turned to Greasy. “What you got to say about this, Greasy?” he demanded.

      Greasy grinned blandly at Hollis. “This guy’s talkin’ through his hat,” he sneered. “I ain’t allowin’ that I branded any of his cattle.”

      Watkins smiled. “There don’t seem to be nothin’ to this case a-tall–not a-tall. There ain’t nobody goin’ to be took into custody by me for stealin’ cattle unless they’re ketched with the goods–an’ that ain’t been proved so far.” He turned to Hollis. “You got anything more to say about it?” he demanded.

      “Only this,” returned Hollis slowly and evenly, “I have brought this man here. I charge him with stealing my cattle. To use your term–he was caught ‘with the goods.’ He is guilty. If you take him into custody and bring him to trial I shall have two witnesses there to prove what I have already told you. If you do not take him into custody, it is perfectly plain that you are deliberately shielding him–that you are making a joke of the law.”

      Watkins’s face reddened angrily. “Mebbe I’m makin’ a joke of it—” he began.

      “Of course we can’t force you to arrest this man,” resumed Hollis, interrupting Watkins. “Unfortunately the government has not yet awakened to the fact that such men as you are a public menace and danger. I did not expect you to arrest him–I tell you that frankly. I merely brought him here to see whether it were true that you were leagued with Dunlavey against the other ranchers in the country. You are, of course. Therefore, as we cannot secure justice by appealing to you we will be forced to adopt other means.”

      The sheriff’s right hand dropped to his gun-holster. He sneered, his lips writhing. “Mebbe you mean—” he began.

      “I ain’t lettin’ this here situation get beyond my control,” came Norton’s voice, cold and even, as his six-shooter came out and was shoved menacingly forward. “Whatever he means, Watkins, he’s my friend an’ you ain’t runnin’ in no cold lead proposition on him.” He smiled mirthlessly.

      Watkins’s face paled; his right hand fell away from the pistol holster. There was a sound at the door; it swung suddenly open and Dunlavey’s gigantic frame loomed massively in the opening.

      “I’m looking for Greasy!” he announced in a soft, silky voice, looking around at the four men with a comprehending, appreciative smile. “I was expecting to find him here,” he added as his gaze sought out the prisoner, “after I heard that he’d been nabbed by the Circle Bar men.”

      Norton smiled coldly. “He’s here, Bill,” he said evenly. “He’s stayin’ here till Mr. Hollis says it’s time for him to go.”

      He did not move the weapon in his hand, but a certain glint in his eyes told Dunlavey that the pistol was not in his hand for mere show. The latter smiled knowingly.

      “I’m not interfering with the law,” he said mockingly. “And I certainly ain’t bucking your game, Norton.” He turned to Watkins, speaking with broad insinuation: “Of course you are putting a charge against Greasy, Watkins?” he said.

      They all caught the sheriff’s flush; all saw the guilty embarrassment in his eyes as he answered that he had not. Dunlavey turned to Hollis with a bland smile.

      “Have you any objection to allowing Greasy to go now, Mr. Hollis?”

      Hollis’s smile was no less bland as his gaze met Dunlavey’s. “Not the slightest objection, Mr. Dunlavey,” he returned. “I congratulate you upon the manner in which you have trained your servants!” He ignored Dunlavey and smiled at Norton. “Mr. Norton,” he said with polite mockery, “I feel certain that you agree with me that we have no wish to contaminate this temple of justice with our presence.”

      He bowed

Скачать книгу