_The Genial Bud_
"And just as soon as he can be moved, his wife aims to take him over to
Stacey."
So Bud told the Marshal of Criswell, who, for want of better
accommodations, had his office in the rear of the general store.
The marshal, a gaunt individual with a watery blue eye and a soiled
goatee, shook his head. "The law is the law," he stated sententiously.
"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 pass
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 dinky little ole forest ranger can come
cantelopin' round here tellin' me my business!"
"Mebby I'm dinky, 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 shirt 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. "Gosh! 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, assuming 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-class 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
circumstantial 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 assisted 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 asserted himself when she
took it for granted that the hotel would be his permanent home.
"There's the ranch, Annie," he told her. "I can't give that up."
"And you can't go back there till I let you," she asserted, smiling.
"I'll get Lorry to talk to you about that. I'm thinking of making him an
offer of partnership. He may want to set up for himself some day. I
married young."
"I'd like to see the girl that's good enough for my Lorry."
Waring smiled. "Or good enough to call you 'mother.'"
"Jim, you're trying to plague me."
"But you will some day. There's always some girl. And Lorry is a pretty
live boy. He isn't going to ride a lone trail forever."
Mrs. Adams affected an indifference that she by no means felt.
"You're a lot better to-day, Jim."
"And that's all your fault, Annie."
She left the room, closing the door slowly. In her own room at the end
of the hall, she glanced at herself in the glass. A rosy face and
dark-brown eyes smiled back at her.
But there were many things to attend to downstairs. She had been away
more than a week. And there was evidence of her absence in every room in
the place.