“Kinda bothered me hangin’ that kid,” a fanner said. “He sure blubbered and hollered and begged, callin’ for his ma. But then I had to think about what he told us they was gonna do if Chester’s girl had been found. Then it didn’t bother me so bad.”
“How about the kid with his arm shot off?” Jackson asked.
“He didn’t make it to the crick ’fore he died.”
“After he died,” Chester said, “the other kid started talkin’ his head off, tellin’ us ’bout what they had in mind to do with any girl they found at fanners’ homes they was plannin’ to raid. He said that’s what Jud’s men was goin’ to do from now on out. I guess he thought by tellin’ us ever’thing he knew we would spare him from the rope. He thought wrong.”
Walt told the men about Sheriff Brady’s try to get U.S. Marshals in.
Chester shook his head negatively. “You been out of touch too long, Walt. And I ain’t sayin’ that it’s all your fault. Brady is a good man, and he’ll make his request for help. But it ain’t gonna come in. Somebody higher up will block it. We done tried to do what you’re tryin’ early last year. We sent Jim Martin to see the governor. He didn’t get in to see him and was ambushed on his way back home.”
“I remember,” Walt said, shaking his head. “Another good idea shot all to hell.”
Smoke cut his eyes to Jackson, remembering the gunfighter’s words: “In the end, it’s all gonna boil down to men facin’ men with guns. That’s the way it’s always been, and that’s the way it’s gonna be… for a while yet.”
Smoke couldn’t agree more.
Several days drifted by, and it was as Chester had predicted: nothing was heard from Sheriff Brady. One week after the night raid by the gunmen, Brady rode slowly up to the Box T. He looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Walt waved him onto the porch, where the rancher was sitting with Smoke, Jackson, and Rusty. Brady took a chair and the cup of coffee that Susie brought out to him.
“You look like a man whose best horse just died,” the rancher remarked. “What’s the matter, Sheriff?”
“It’s worse than that, I’m here to tell you. There ain’t gonna be any help comin’ in from the government, Walt. And that’s just the beginning of it.” He sighed and took a sip of coffee. “I been ridin’ all over this county. I can’t find a judge who’ll sign papers against Jud. One of them outright laughed at me. And I had to turn all them gun hands loose. Judge’s orders. He says that since you didn’t personal come in and swear to the truth of the raid, I can’t hold them.”
“Judge Monroe?” Walt asked.
“You got it.”
“I always knew he was takin’ money from my brother.”
“I don’t think it would have made a whit of difference if you had come in and signed them papers,” the sheriff said. “I’ve had to open my eyes these past few days and look at things I guess I been avoiding over the years.” He sighed. “The mainest thing being that Jud Vale’s got a lot of people with their hands in his pockets … and some of them hands has been there for a long time. I’m finding out, really finding out, what it means to butt your head up against a stone wall.”
“I hate to be the one to ask you this, Sheriff,” Walt said, “but how about your deputies?”
“Can they be trusted? Yes. They been with me for a long time and they’ll stand. I’ve bet my life on that too many times not to be totally sure of them.” He looked at Smoke and Rusty and Jackson. “You boys want a badge?”
Smoke shook his head. “Not me. Too many restrictions go with a badge.”
Rusty and Jackson also declined the offer of being deputized.
Brady said, “I’m about to do something that I ain’t never done in all my years of totin’ a star around.” He was thoughtful for a moment, then drained his coffee and stood up, hitching at his gun belt. “You boys handle this anyway you see fit. I won’t interfere in no way. If Jud starts squallin’ for the law to come in, I’ll tell him I’ll get to it as soon as possible. Then I’ll toss his complaint into the trash can. If the judges get on me about my foot-draggin’, I’ll tell them the people elected me, not them, and if the people don’t like the way I’m doin’ things, then come election time, they can vote me out of office as easy as they voted me in.”
Brady stepped off the porch and walked to his horse. After swinging into the saddle, he looked at the men on the porch. “Good luck, boys. If you need help, holler, and I’ll come a-foggin’.”
Brady turned his horse and rode out of the ranch without looking back.
Smoke took out the Colts, one at a time, and filled up the empty chamber under the hammer. Rusty and Jackson did the same. Walt rose from his chair and walked into the house. When he returned, he had his gun belt in one hand and a box of .44’s in the other. He sat down and began filling up the loops in the belt.
“I fought for this land,” the old rancher spoke. “Fought hard for it. But until you boys come along, I reckon I’d misplaced my backbone. I’d turned into a scared old man. That scared old man ain’t no more. Maybe it takes me a little longer to get goin’ in the mornings, but there ain’t nothin’ wrong with my eyes nor my trigger finger. And I made up my mind about something else: my brother can go right straight to Hell! And if it has to be me who sends him there, so be it.”
26
Days after the disastrous attack against the nesters, Jud was still having trouble accepting the fact that most people, from the territorial line west to the Little Malad River were no longer going to bow and scrape to him. Jud had not only lost his power base, but now he felt his mind going again. He struggled to maintain control. He managed to hold on, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to make rational thoughts work their way through the fog that clouded his brain.
Jason was talking to him, but Jud was having a hard time understanding the words.
“Jud!” Jason shouted at him.
