carriage, as were the horses pulling it, was draped in black bunting. As the cortege passed by, the people began following it to the cemetery.
Because there had been no rites in the church, the body was taken directly from its place of display in the show window of the hardware store to the cemetery. Once the cortege reached its destination, the coffin was removed from the hearse and placed on the ground alongside the open grave. Not until then was the top part of the coffin closed, after which the Reverend Charles Landers stepped up to the head of the grave.
“Dear friends,” he began. “We are gathered here in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection and eternal life of our brother, Billy Ray Quentin, and I ask you to now—”
“Hold on there, Preacher,” Pogue Quentin called, interrupting the funeral rite. “I want to say a few words.”
“I—uh—very well,” Landers said, surprised by Quentin’s unexpected outburst. He stepped aside, assuming that Quentin would take his place, but Quentin didn’t move from where he had been standing.
“Folks,” Quentin began. “The man who murdered my boy, in cold blood, is down there in the jailhouse.” He pointed in the general direction of the jail. “We’ll be havin’ his trial soon as Judge McCabe gets here, and that means there will be a jury selected. That jury will come from this town, most of which is here now. If you are selected to be on that jury, I want you to understand that I expect the murderer to be found guilty and to hang.”
He held up a copy of the
“Brandon, there will be no more stories like this one. Why, if someone didn’t know any better, they could read this story and think maybe that the man who killed my son was justified.”
“Mr. Quentin, you must know that there are some who witnessed the event who say that it was justifiable homicide,” Brandon replied.
“I want you to know, Brandon, that I will be keeping my eye on you and on any more stories you write like this one. And I’m givin’ you fair warning now not to do it.”
“Are you threatening the right of a free press, sir?” Brandon asked.
“I’m just tellin’ you, that’s all,” Quentin said. “And for rest of you, any of you who might be on the jury,” he continued, looking out over those who had gathered in the cemetery for the purpose of interment, “hear me good. I won’t take too kindly to anyone who doesn’t do their duty and find that son of a bitch guilty. I aim to see to it that my son’s killer is hung by the neck until he is dead.”
“Mr. Quentin, we are having a funeral,” Landers said. “Such language is unseemly.”
“Yeah? Well, you got your language and I got mine, Preacher,” Quentin said. “But I’ve got my piece said now, so you can get on back to the buryin’.”
Chapter Fifteen
Although Prince Henry had his own stall, he had been brought outside and was now tied to a post in the middle of the corral. This was, in fact, the same post to which horses were tied before being broken.
Cal approached the animal carrying a brush in one hand and a bucket of soapy water in the other. Setting the bucket down beside Prince Henry, he patted him on the head.
“I don’t know, Prince Henry,” he said. “You bein’ a champion and all, it could be that you been scrubbed down before. But I have to tell you the truth. I ain’t never washed no bull before, and I never thought I would do it. But Miss Sally’s taken a shine to you, and she wants you all spruced up, so that’s what I’m goin’ to do.”
Dipping the brush into the water, Cal began scrubbing down the bull. Prince Henry offered no resistance at all to the procedure.
“Well, I’ll be damn,” Cal said, smiling broadly. “You have had this done to you before, haven’t you? I swear, I believe you are likin’ it.”
“Hey, Cal, it ain’t even Saturday night!” Jake called. “What are you doin’ givin’ him a bath?”
Some of the other cowboys laughed at Jake’s tease.
“I got to get him cleaned up,” Cal called back. “He ain’t goin’ to do us no good if the ladies don’t take to him. And what heifer is goin’ to turn down a bull that is clean and smells good?”
The cowboys laughed again.
Cal scrubbed on the animal for about half an hour. Then he led Prince Henry up to the back of the ranch house and called out.
“Smoke! Miss Sally, come out and take a look!”
A moment later, Smoke and Sally appeared on the back porch.
“Oh, my,” Sally said. “I’ve never seen him looking so good. You did a wonderful job, Cal.”
“Thank you, Miss Sally, I’m right proud of it myself.” Cal patted Prince Henry on the head again. “Tell me, do you think the ladies will like him now?”
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Sally said. “If I were a lady cow, I would certainly be attracted to him.”
“Whoa, hold it,” Smoke said. “Now you are making me jealous.”
Cal and Sally laughed.
“Shucks, Smoke, I don’t think you need to be…” Cal stopped in mid-sentence and looked over toward a rider who was coming through the gate. What caught his attention was a flash of sunlight on the silver hatband. “Pearlie?” he said.
“What?” Sally asked, turning toward where Cal was looking.
