“Yea-a-a-a, that might be true. But it’s nothin’ to us; so we will
forget it, eh?”
“I forget,” smiled Peeler.
Porter was very angry when he and the sheriff rode away from the
Taylor ranch, heading for the AK. He was inclined to do a lot of
talking, once he was far enough away to conceal his language from the
Taylor family.
“I tell yuh they know somethin’, Scotty.”
“Do yuh think so, Al?”
“Yo’re —— right. Didn’t Buck speak right up and tell how much money
was in that pay-roll? And didn’t he get right on the prod when I
picked him up on it? Don’t tell me that he don’t know somethin’ about
it. They’ve been to Yaller Horn mesa, have they? That’s a —— of a good
excuse.”
“Do yuh think that’s enough evidence to arrest ’em on, Al?”
“Well, mebbe not. But it’s sure as —— enough to suspect ’em on. I
wouldn’t trust any of ’em as far as I could throw a bull by the tail.
Buck’s a bad _hombre_, Scotty. The old man is pretty salty, and that
—— breed fits in well with the bunch.”
Scotty nodded. He was in the habit of agreeing with Porter, which
saved him many an argument.
“We’ve got to watch ’em,” continued Porter. “They’re slick.”
“Slick,” agreed Scotty absently. “I’m jist wonderin’ what to say to
them slick-ears at the AK.”
“Give ’em ——,” advised Porter. “They shore need a good curryin’,
Scotty.”
“I know they do, Al. But —— it, they won’t listen to reason. I dunno
why they locked me in that jail last night.”
Porter grinned sarcastically, but sobered suddenly.
“Say, Scotty, here’s somethin’ to think about. They locked yuh in yore
cell, and in about an hour the train was held up. Does that mean
anythin’ to you?”
Scotty shook his head.
“My ——, yo’re dense. Listen:” Porter repeated his statement. “Now do
yuh get it?”
“You mean—they locked me up and robbed the train?”
“They locked yuh up—and the train was robbed, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, I know that, Al; but they was too drunk.”
“Acted too drunk, yuh mean.”
“Well, they acted—say, Al,” the sheriff grinned slowly, “you sure can
see things. I wonder if that ain’t right? But it ain’t enough evidence
to arrest ’em on, is it?”
“Well, mebbe not enough to arrest ’em on, but it’s enough for us to
suspect ’em real hard, and to keep an eye on ’em, Scotty.”
“Yo’re sure gittin’ evidence,” applauded the sheriff. “Al, I’d be lost
without yuh. You think faster than I do. I’d prob’ly think of these
things after while, yuh see. And they prob’ly turned our broncs loose;
so’s we couldn’t foller ’em, even if I got loose.”
“I was jist goin’ to mention that part of it, Scotty. Yuh see how
things work out.”
“Yeah. You’d make a good sheriff, Al.”
“Sure. Mebby I will be. Unless somethin’ happens I’ll take a crack at
the office next election.”
“Will yuh? I dunno what I’ll do. A feller gits kinda ’tached to a job
like this, don’tcha know it? Yo’re prob’ly a better deputy than you’d
ever be a sheriff. A feller has to have certain qualifications to be a
sheriff, and it ain’t as easy as it looks. Buck was kinda sore at yuh,
wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, and he’ll get smart jist once too often. One of these days I’m
goin’ to bend him plumb shut and rub his nose off agin’ his knee. I’ll
jist stand so much from a _hombre_ like him.”
“You sure hang on to yore temper well, Al.”
“Feller’s got to, when he’s a deputy. Yuh can’t go fightin’ every
whippoorwill that wants a fight. It don’t look well, Scotty.”
The AK ranch was located well away from the hills, and about three
miles southeast of Blue Wells. It was a typical Arizona ranch; the
buildings were part adobe, but more elaborate and larger than those of
the Double Bar 8. There was no patio to the AK, but the group of
buildings were fenced in with barbed wire.
* * * * *
The sheriff and deputy rode in through the gate and up to the
ranch-house, where they met old George Bonnette, owner of the outfit.
He was a pudgy little man, almost bald, almost toothless, one cheek
bulged from a huge chew of tobacco. He spat explosively and nodded to
the officers. It was not often that the law came to the AK, and the
old man looked at them curiously.
“Howdy, George,” said the sheriff.
“’Lo, Scotty; hyah, Porter,” Bonnette shifted his chew and waited for
them to state their errand.
“Where’s the boys?” asked Scotty, glancing around.
“Well,” the old man scratched his head, “I’ve only got three workin’
here now. T’day is pay-day.”
“Meanin’ that they’ve gone to town, eh?”
“Follerin’ the natcheral inclination of cowpunchers, I’d say that’s
where they’ve gone. Whatcha want ’em fer?”
“Oh, nothin’ much,” Scotty sighed with evident relief. He really
didn’t want them very badly.
“You heard about the hold-up, didn’t yuh?” asked Porter.
Bonnette hadn’t. And he grew so interested in Porter’s recital of it
that he bit off two more chews of tobacco during the telling, which
swelled his cheek until one eye was almost closed.
“Well, the dem cusses!” he said earnestly. “Thirty thousand dollars,
eh. Worth taking eh? Who wouldn’t? Got anythin’ to work on, Scotty?”
“Well,” said Scotty darkly, “we might have more’n anybody’d think,
George. Did the boys find their horses?”
“Hm-m-m-m,” the old man scratched his head. “Seems to me I did hear
one of ’em say they walked home, and that their horses was here when
they arrived. Them broncs was raised here at the AK, and they’d head
for home. I didn’t pay much attention, but I did hear Eskimo say that
somebody turned their broncs loose in town last night.”
“I jist wondered if they got ’em,” said Scotty.
Bonnette squinted at Scotty, his brows lifted inquiringly.
“Didja ride all the way out here to find that out?”
“Not exactly, George. Yuh see, them three jaspers locked me in my own
jail last night. Didja know that?”
“In yore own jail? No, I didn’t know it, Scotty.”
“Yeah, they did, George. And I was in there when word came of the
robbery, and didn’t know a thing about it. They’re liable for blockin’
the law.”
“Yeah, I s’pose they are. Huh!” Bonnette turned away, choking a
trifle, and when he turned back there were tears in his eyes.
“We came down here to see about it,” said Porter. “It’s a —— of a
note, when things like that happen, Bonnette. Them three fellers ort
to be run out of the country.”
“Yea-a-ah?” The old man looked narrowly at Porter. “Why don’t yuh go
ahead and do it, Porter. They’re all of age, yuh know. And there ain’t
a milk drinker in the crowd; so they really wouldn’t suffer if yuh
took ’em away from the cows.”
“Oh, they ain’t so —— tough,” retorted Porter. “They’re not runnin’
this country. They’ve kinda had their own way in Blue Wells for a long
time, but now is the time to call a halt. We’re civilized, I’ll tell
yuh that.”
“Who do yuh mean, Porter?”
“Well, all of us—ain’t we?”
“I dunno. Sometimes I wonder if we are. We ain’t savages. We don’t
worship no idols, nor we don’t eat each other. Holdin’ up a train is a
sign of civilization. I dunno about lockin’ a sheriff in his cell. It
sure as —— ain’t old-fashioned, ’cause I never heard of it bein’ done
before.”
“Well, I don’t care a ——!” snorted the sheriff. “They done it to me,
and I’m sure goin’ to let ’em know that I’m sore about it.”
“Yo’re probably more interested in that than yuh are in findin’ the
men who held up the train.”
“Yuh think so, do yuh?” growled Porter. “Well, I’ll tell yuh we’re
plenty interested in that, too. C’mon, Scotty; we’re jist wastin’ time
around here.”
“You don’t need to get mad at me,” laughed Bonnette. “I never locked
up any sheriffs.”
“Well, yore men did!” snapped Scotty.
Bonnette laughed at the sheriff’s red face.
“I’ll prob’ly fire ’em for not havin’ more respect for the law.”
“Aw, c’mon,” urged Porter. “T’ —— with ’em; we’ve got work to do.”
They rode away from the AK, heading back toward Blue Wells, no better
off for their long ride to the AK.
“I’ve jist been thinkin’ that folks around here don’t show a —— of a
lot of respect for the law,” said Scotty Olson.
“Well,” growled Porter, “it’s up to us to make ’em. By ——, I’m all
through lettin’ folks make remarks to me. From now on I’m goin’ to
make these smart pelicans set up and salute when the law shows up.”