Sheriff on the Spot (15 page)

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Authors: Brett Halliday

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“Well, it sounded all right to me.” Ezra paused to draw a long breath, and he squirmed under Pat's direct gaze. “What would you of done?” he asked defensively. “You know a jury wouldn't take kindly to that kinda killin'.
I
didn't blame Sam none, but other people wouldn't look at it that way.”

Pat said, “I reckon not.” Then he added, “Did Kitty give any particular reason why she thought Jeth could be bribed?”

“She acted purty shore he'd do it.” Ezra wrinkled his brow. “Best I recollect, she said somethin' about knowin' him before she an' him come to Powder Valley. I didn't ast her much about it. I jest tol' her to see could she fix it, an' told her Sam an' me'd foot the bill with our money we got from sellin' the ranch.”

“All right. That much of it is perfectly clear,” Pat told him. “What happened to make you take out down a rope through the window an' then do such a crazy thing as robbin' the bank?”

“That was all yore fault,” Ezra told him sorrowfully. “If you'd turned the sheriffin' over to Jeth like you was s'posed to, everything woulda bin awright.”

“How did you know I hadn't?”

“I heerd you arguin' with Joe Deems down to the foot of the stairs—about comin' up. An' I heerd you tell Joe you was still sheriff. So I ducked in my room an' locked the door. An' when you come knockin', I kept quiet an' didn't answer.”

“Why not?” Pat asked impatiently. “You knew I'd help you—an' you wouldn't have to pay me like you would Jeth.”

“You know damn well I couldn't ast you to do that, Pat.” Ezra shook his big red head earnestly. “You take yore sheriffin' too serious. That woulda put you plumb in the middle of bad trouble. Sure, yo're Sam's best friend. That's why I couldn't drag you into it. If you
did
help us cover it up, you'd hate yourself for doin' it. You kin see that, Pat.”

“I can see how you figgered, but it was the wrong way to do it,” Pat told him. “Go ahead with the rest of it.”

“With you still sheriff, I figgered it was best to get Sam outta town in a hurry. So I throwed a slip knot round him and lowered him out the winder of my room, then tied the other end to the bed and clumb down. I saddled our hawses fast an' led 'em aroun' to the jail and writ you that note. I left Sam there, still passed out, an' went around to the bank an' broke in the back door. I didn't know anybody saw me.”

“Why did you have to add bank robbin' on top of everything else?” Pat demanded wearily.

“We had to have money.” Ezra looked at him in surprise. “All our cash money 'ceptin' a few dollars was in the bank. We couldn't take out on the owl-hoot trail broke. Hell, Pat, that wouldn't of bin a mite sensible. An' we couldn't wait till the bank opened this mawnin'. I didn't see no other way but to take it out my own self.”

“All right. I don't blame you for getting your own money. But I'm takin' all the rest of it back. Every cent.”

“All the rest of what?”

“All the money you stole that didn't belong to you,” Pat told him firmly.

“Gosh-a-mighty! That's what I'm tellin' you. I broke in the bank to get
our
money. I didn't take no other. That's what took me so long in the vault. Countin' out jest how much we had comin'.”

Sam began to chuckle at the expression on Pat's face. “You oughtta knowed that's all Ezra would take. Jest what was comin' to us. Did you think he stole
all
the money in the bank, Pat?”

Pat said, “All right. Maybe I should of guessed it was that way. I'm glad to know it. But there's one more thing I
still
want to know. What about Jeth Purdue?”

“What about him?” Ezra asked innocently.

“That's what I'm askin' you. Did you see him after you left the hotel?”

Ezra shook his head with a puzzled look. “Nope. I shore didn't.”

“What about you?” Pat asked Sam.

“Hell, I don't know nothin' that happened. I was passed out cold.”

Pat began to roll another cigarette. Without looking up, he said, “Jeth is dead. Gunned from outside the jail window with a forty-five while I had him locked inside.”

14

A long moment of stunned silence followed Pat's announcement of Jeth Purdue's death. Then Sam said wonderingly, “You had Jeth locked up?”

“That's right.”

“What for? He was s'posed tuh be sheriff today.”

“I had a reason to.”

“An' he's dead too?” Ezra broke in.

“Murdered,” Pat said shortly. “Shot in the face without a chance of shootin' back.”

“By golly, there shore was plenty of excitement in Dutch Springs las' night,” exclaimed Ezra.

“What you askin' us about 'im for?” Sam asked suspiciously.

Pat Stevens shrugged. “You were at the bottom of the other devilment.”

“An' you thought we killed Jeth?”

“It made sense,” Pat argued. “Kitty told me about tellin' you she'd try to fix it with Jeth. When you decided to take out, I thought maybe you were afraid she'd already told him—an' decided to gun him too.”

“I never done it, Pat,” Ezra assured him earnestly. “I swear I didn't know he was in that jail when I left Sam there an' went to the bank.” He paused suddenly, staring at Sam with his one eye.

Pat, too, was watching the small, dark man grimly. Sam blinked at their concentrated attention and asked uneasily, “What you-all lookin' at me like that for?”

Pat drew in a long breath. “You sure you stayed passed out
all
the time till you woke up this mawnin' tied on your hawse?”

“Course I'm shore. I don't remember nothin'.”

Pat turned to Ezra. “Was he movin' around any? Tryin' to talk or anything like that?”

Ezra shook his big head. “Nary a bit.” His voice was hoarse. “I don't reckon he moved while I was at the bank.”

“But you didn't have him tied up then?” Pat asked sharply.

“No. I left him layin' by his hawse. When I left the bank in a hurry, I grabbed him up an' carried him on my hawse for half a mile outta town. Then I heard the posse take the wrong fork, an' I stopped to put him in his saddle.”

Pat asked Sam, “How many times you say you shot at Ralston before goin' after your knife?”

“Twict. The way I recollect it.”

“Have you shot your gun since then?”

“Nope.” The bewilderment on Sam's dark features was beginning to give way to anger. “Look here. What're you fellers thinkin'?”

Pat held out his hand and said steadily, “Lemme see your gun.”

Sam glared at him, then reluctantly dropped his hand to the butt of his holstered .45. He drew it out and flipped it in the air, catching it by the muzzle to present it to Pat butt-first. He growled, “Awright, Sheriff. Here you are.”

Pat broke it and dropped the unfired cartridges into the palm of his hand. The brass cylinders that had been fired remained in the gun, having been swelled by the explosion so they would not drop out without being forced.

Pat shook his head and extended his open palm for Sam and Ezra to see. “There's only three cartridges that ain't been fired.”

Sam's eyes became frightened. He wet his lips and said hastily, “That makes it come out right. I generally don't carry but five—leavin' the cylinder under the hammer empty so she won't shoot if I drop her. There's three in your hand—an' the two I shot at Ralston makes five.”

Pat said, “Maybe.” He pushed the plunger that forced the empty brass cartridges out. He shook his head. “This time you had her loaded all the way around, Sam. Here's
three
empties.”

“Tell you what,” said Ezra hastily. “I reckon Sam was too drunk to count good last night. I bin thinkin' I heard
three
shots in Kitty's room 'stead of jest two.”

Pat looked at him sharply. “Don't lie to me, Ezra.” He sounded tired and sad.

Ezra shook his red head vigorously. “I ain't lyin'. I swear I ain't. I'll take my oath on it that I heard three shots.”

“What's the matter with you fellers?” Sam asked wildly. “What's it matter where that other bullet went?”

Pat said, “I reckon Ezra's thinkin' like I am: that
maybe
you sort of come to enough while he was at the bank to get up an' walk around—to maybe walk to the window of the jail-house.”

Sam shook his head and declared positively, “I don't remember nothin'.”

“Maybe you don't remember. I ain't saying you're lyin', Sam. I'm wonderin' if you could of done it without rememberin'.”

“Gunned Jeth Purdue? Without rememberin'?” Sam's voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

“I hope not,” Pat said hastily. “I sure hope not, Sam.” He flipped the six-gun shut and handed it back to Sam, empty. “I reckon I better keep these here bullets for evidence.”

“What kinda evidence?” Ezra asked angrily. “I've done tol' you I'll swear I heard three shots in the hotel.”

“All right,” said Pat amiably. “Then these'll be evidence that you're tellin' the truth.” He got up and stretched. “We better be ridin', I reckon.”

They both looked at him in astonishment. “You goin' with us?”

“Why, I reckoned you'd be goin' back with me,” he told them pleasantly.

“Now looky here, Pat,” Ezra began earnestly. “You know doggone well—”

“I know doggone well that you two yahoos ain't got no business runnin' off like this. How about that Pony Express set-up?”

An expression of pain flickered across Sam's ugly face. “That hurts worse'n anything,” he admitted. “I was shore lookin' forward to the job of ridin' the mail.”

“You too,” Pat reminded Ezra sharply. “You signed up for the job of runnin' that station. They're dependin' on both of you to carry that first batch of mail through today. Think how it'll look if Dutch Springs falls down on the job. They say there's goin' to be governors an' everything in Denver when the first rider gets there. An' the president of the United States his own self has got a letter ridin' in that mail pouch.”

“Shore hate tuh let the president down,” Ezra agreed mournfully. “But there jest ain't no way of gettin' 'round it, Pat. Sam'll have tuh stand trial for murder if he shows his face back in Dutch Springs.”

“I ain't so sure about that.” Pat shook his head slowly.

“What do you mean?”

Pat shrugged his shoulders. “I told you-all that I got in Miss Kitty's room first an' carried Sam's knife out.”

Sam's jaw dropped. “You don't mean—you'd cover up for me, Pat?”

“We've been friends a long time,” Pat reminded him gruffly.

“Shore, but I still don't like for you to do that. Hell, Pat. You jest cain't. I ain't gonna let you. Not with the way you feel about lawin' an' all. You've still got that sheriff's oath you took in Winters' store.”

“I'll be the judge of what I want to do.”

“Nope.” Sam Sloan shook his head positively. “'Twouldn't be right nohow.”

“Be just as bad,” Pat argued, “if I let you go on from here.”

Both friends stared at him in consternation.

“What's the difference whether I turn you loose here or let you go back to town an' cover up for you? Either way, I'm turnin' against my oath of office. If I don't arrest you now, I'll be aidin' an' abettin' your escape.” He spread out both his hands helplessly.

“That's easy enough,” Ezra snorted. He drew his gun and covered the Powder Valley sheriff. “We'll take yore gun off you an' then you cain't he'p yoreself.”

“What good'll that do?” snorted Pat wrathfully. “I'll still
know
I could have taken you if I'd tried. I tell you it's this way. You go back with me an' let me see can I fix things up—or I ride to the Border with you.”

“You?
Take the owl-hoot trail with us?” gasped Sam.

“I don't see nothin' else for it if you're goin' to be stubborn an' ride that way yourselves.”

“You can't do it, Pat. You belong in Powder Valley. There's Sally. An' there's Dock.”

“Yeh, it'd be kinda hard on them,” Pat muttered.

“It'd dang near kill Sally,” Sam told him angrily. “An' you want yore boy to grow up knowin' his pappy was a crooked sheriff that rode off with a couple of outlaws 'stead of arrestin' them?”

Pat shrugged helplessly. “What else can I do? Only way out of it is for you to come back with me. I got an idea,” he added slowly, “that I can work things out so there won't be no trouble over them killings. An' the bank robbin'—well, if you just took your own money I reckon you can't be held for taking something that already belonged to you.”

“We'd ruther go on,” Ezra told him wistfully.

“I'm ridin' with you if you do.”

“You danged stubborn fool,” Sam swore softly, and his voice was choked with emotion. He abruptly turned his back on Pat and walked away.

“Don't do it, Pat,” Ezra implored him. “Shucks, me an' Sam don't matter. We're kinda tired of Powder Valley anyhow. Need a change of scenery. An' we both got a yen to see what's down on the other side of the Border.”

“You lie,” said Pat quietly. “You've both been proud as peacocks to get that Pony Express job. It's something big an' important for the West an' they need you two to help run it right.”

Sam turned and came back. “No use arguin' with him,” he told Ezra savagely. “You know that as good as me. Stubbornest damn fool west of the Mississippi when he sets his mind on somethin'. An' he's right, too,” Sam went on swiftly. “No use of you ridin' off into trouble with me. I got into it. I wouldn't of let you if I'd bin in my right mind last night. An' this mawnin' when I come to, it was too late. You'd already busted into the bank an' carried me off.

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