“It will in my court,” the judge said with a smile. “Besides, both you and Deputy Dagonne heard one man confess. Don’t worry, Smoke. Just remember the name of the town the jury is going to be picked from.”
Both men shared a laugh at that. Smoke said, “Any further word about Max Huggins’s background?”
“Yes, but unfortunately, we can’t use any of it. Some of the parties involved are still too frightened to testify. Others have moved away or died. While the authorities east of here know Max is guilty, they can’t prove it.”
Smoke thought about that for a moment. “But Max doesn’t have to know that, Judge.”
The judge looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled. “Of course, you’re quite right.”
“Let me think about how we can use that information, Judge. We’ve got Max bumping from side to side now, let’s see if we can keep him that way.”
“Good idea. I have trial scheduled to start Thursday for those who tried to shoot up the town. I want extra security, Smoke.”
“You’ve got it, Judge. How about Melvin Malone’s case?”
“His is the first one I try. This is ... unusual for a judge, Smoke. But I want to ask your opinion. I can put him in jail. I can put him to doing community work ... public service work it’s now being called. But putting him to work cleaning the streets is only going to anger him further. Jail? Probably do the same thing. Or I can fine him. What do you think?”
Smoke rolled a cigarette and lit up. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders. “The boy wants to kill me so bad now it’s like a fire inside him....”
“Is he that good?” the judge interrupted.
“I doubt it. He makes the mistake that so many would-be gunhandlers make: He hurried his first shot. I was born blessed with excellent eye and hand coordination, Judge. I was born ambidextrous.” He smiled. “Sally taught me that word, by the way. The speed came with years of practice. I still practice. But I think the thing that keeps me ative—or has kept me alive all these years—is that I’m not afraid when the moment comes. I’m confident without being overly so. As to your original question ... fine him and let him walk for all I care.”
The judge nodded. “It might buy us more time, if you know what I mean.”
“I do. Kill Melvin now, and Red is very likely to blow wide open. The town is growing stronger every day. In another two weeks, it would take an army to overrun it.”
“That’s correct. And we owe it all to you.”
Smoke waved that away. “I just propped you people up, that’s all. Gave you all a little talking to and jerked you around and around. You all did the rest.”
The judge grinned and rubbed the side of his face. “I never thought I’d see the day when I appreciated a slapping around, but I do, boy, I do.”
“See you around, Judge.”
Smoke stepped out of the judge’s chambers and walked the streets of town. People waved and called his name as he passed. No doubt about it, Smoke thought. These folks are going to fight for their town. And they’re probably going to have it to do ... very soon.
He walked back to the jail and stepped inside. Murtaugh started cussing him as soon as he heard the jingle of Smoke’s spurs. “You’ll never hold me in this cracker box, Jensen. Soon as I can get my hands on a gun, you’re dead, hotshot. You’re dead, and that’s a promise.”
Smoke did not reply.
“I know a lot of things you don’t, Jensen,” Murtaugh kept flapping his mouth. “A whole lot of things.”
Smoke waited.
Murtaugh laughed from his cell. “Have your trials, Jensen. Let that lard-butted judge bang his gavel and hand down his pronouncements. It ain’t gonna make a bit of difference in the long run.”
Murtaugh lay down on his bunk and shut his mouth.
Smoke got up and closed the door to the cell block.
“Have the others had anything to say?” he asked Sal.
“They’ve all been boastin’ about us not keepin’ them for very long. I been doin’ some thinkin’ about that. I think someone’s gonna spring them after they’ve been sentenced.”
“From the jail, you think?” Smoke asked.
Sal shook his head. “I don’t know. I’d guess so. Max or Red ain’t gonna take a chance of bustin’ them away from the prison wagon when they come to haul them off to the territorial prison. That’d bring too much heat on Max, and he don’t want that. So, yeah. I’d say they’ll make their try just after these hard cases are sentenced.”
“We have until Thursday to make some plans. The judge has requested extra security, so he thinks something is in the works, too.”
Pete Akins hitched at his gunbelt. “Max could have at least seventy-five men ready to ride in ten minutes. He could pull fifty more in here in two ... three days. The folks in this town are good people, and I mean that; I never did none of them no harm and they know it. They’ve accepted me. But they aint gunhands, Smoke. If you’know what I mean.”
Smoke knew what he meant. Most of the men were good shots with a rifle. But few of them had ever killed a man close up. They had fought in the war; but that was, for the most part, a very impersonal thing.
Smoke tossed the question out, “How many men does Red Malone have on the payroll?”
“Thirty,” Jim answered it. “He pays them all fightin’ wages. And there ain’t no backup in none of them. They ride for the brand and that’s it.”
