I hid the noose in the stall a moment, and got aholt of the liveryman.
“Turk, you seen anyone around here with a rope?”
“Everyone’s got a rope,” he said. He sort of slurred his words because he didn’t have many teeth, and all the gaps between them whistled.
“I mean, a big thick hemp rope, not some lariat.”
“Hemp? You mean like the stuff in the Emporium?”
I nodded.
“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” he said.
He was a toothless grinning sonofabitch, and I wanted to shove a fist into his gums, but I didn’t.
“Who’s been hanging around here since yesterday?” I asked.
“Oh, the usual. Half of them too broke to pay their bills.”
“Who’s come by to pay you?” I asked, figuring that someone who could buy some hemp rope would have enough to pay the livery stable.
Turk just shrugged and smiled, licking his gums. “I don’t keep any books,” he said.
“How do you know when people owe you?”
“All in my head and on my fingers,” he said.
“Does Admiral Bragg keep horses here?”
“Not regular.”
“How about Crayfish Ruble?”
“Oh, he sometimes buys a week or two.”
“Has he been around?”
“Not since the three killings and the trial.”
“Who else?”
“None of your damn business.”
Turk wheeled away, heading for the pen outside, and I let him go. I collected the noose and headed for Mrs. Gladstone’s Sampling Room.
I found her in there, sweeping sawdust. The Sampling Room was a fancy joint compared to the Last Chance.
She looked up and I handed her the noose. She took it gingerly, staring at me.
“Give it to Admiral Bragg, and tell him I’m tired of nooses,” I said. “Next noose I get, I’ll make sure it fits his neck.”
“Oh, Mr. Sheriff…”
“If we’re going to have nooses around here, I’ll make sure they fit any neck that deserves it,” I said.
She peered at me with real fear in her eyes.
“Tell him that, or maybe I’ll make one for you too,” I said.
She clapped a hand to her mouth.
I was plumb tired of nooses.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, plainly scairt.
I didn’t care. Doubtful was up to its crotch in nooses.
I left her holding that limp rope, knowing word would soon reach the Anchor Ranch and into the ears of Admiral. I hiked back to the sheriff office and jailhouse, and sure enough, someone had tied a little noose, just a little feller made from cord, onto the door handle. It was hardly six inches long, something someone could stuff in his pocket and not be seen with, but there it was, tied tight around the handle, and dangling there.
I knocked. “It’s me,” I said.
“You all right?” Burtell asked.
“Good as gold,” I said.
He opened. I pointed. That little noose was dangling from the latch.
He stared.
“Guess we ain’t popular,” he said.
At first I thought to cut it loose, but then I decided just to let her hang. That noose sent a message in all directions.
TWELVE
Next thing I knew, there was Judge Nippers steaming over from the Puma County Courthouse with something clutched in his gnarled fingers. I sure knew what it was.
