“I took my case to court and I lost,” Kincaid said.
“What was your argument?”
“My argument was that I had a greater right to inherit the land than did a widow of but a year.”
“No, that won’t do. What other legal basis do you have for using the court of last resort?”
“I don’t know,” Kincaid admitted. “I mean, I am willing to pay you, whatever you ask. But I don’t know any legal basis for using you.”
“You do know, don’t you, that I don’t do anything unless I have some legal coverage?”
“Uh, no, I didn’t know that. Poke was working for me, I didn’t think it mattered whether it was legal or not.”
Sherman chuckled. “You are right. You didn’t think,” he said. “But it did matter for Poke, and it matters for me. I don’t commit the posse to anything, unless there is a legal basis for the commitment.”
“I see,” Kincaid said, crestfallen. “I thought maybe if I paid enough that maybe—”
Inexplicably, Sherman laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Kincaid,” he said. “Fortunately for you, I have found what we need. I have found a law that will cover any participation by the Auxiliary Peace Officers’ Posse.”
“What? Do you mean to say there
“Well, the law is not specifically drawn to give you control of Conventry,” Sherman said. “But it is drawn in such a way as to prevent Mrs. Wellington from selling her horses to the army, or to anyone else. And that would accomplish the same thing, would it not?”
“Yes, of course it would,” Kincaid said excitedly. “But I must confess that I am curious. What law would that be?”
“Have you ever heard of herd management law?”
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
“Let me read this to you,” Sherman said, pulling a book down from a shelf behind him and opening it. It was obvious that he had given this particular law a lot of thought, because he was able to open it to a pre-marked page.
“This is from the Idaho Territorial Livestock Law, paragraph twenty-five, subparagraph three, stroke two. It is called the Herd Management Law.”
Sherman cleared his throat, then began to read.
“The Livestock Commission of the territory of Idaho shall have power to create, modify, or eliminate herd management districts within such counties as hereinafter provided; and when such district is so created, modified, or eliminated, the provisions of this chapter shall apply and be enforceable therein. In a district that is set aside for cattle, no one shall run horses, mules, asses, sheep, or goats in excess of what is needed for the immediate operation of the ranch without specific authorization from the Livestock Commission. Such regulation or control is provided by the creation of a herd management district pursuant to the provisions of this chapter. The provisions of this chapter shall apply with immediate effect, subject to any modification as may hereinafter be enacted.”
Sherman closed the book and smiled at Kincaid. “There is your legal basis,” he said.
Kincaid shook his head in confusion. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you just said to me.”
“Is Kitty Wellington raising horses?” Sherman asked.
“Yes.”
“Would you say she is raising more horses than are required to run her ranch?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“I have checked all the filings in the herd district that apply to Coventry on the Snake, and there has been no authorization specifically granted for her to run horses.” Sherman thumped on the book he had just read. “Therefore, according to this, she is in violation of the law.”
“She is? Then I don’t know why the territorial government hasn’t stopped her. Everyone knows she is raising horses, there was even an article about it in
“The territorial government hasn’t done anything about it, because they probably don’t even realize she is in violation. This law was written primarily to prevent trouble by keeping the sheep herders and cattle ranchers separated.”
“Then we should tell the government about her,” Kincaid suggested.
Sherman shook his head. “No, that is the last thing you want to do,” he said.
“No?”
“Not if you really want to stop her,” Sherman explained.
“I don’t understand.”
“Look. If the agriculture commission realized that this law, which as I said was primarily designed to keep cattle and sheep apart, was stopping a productive horse ranching operation, they would simply grant her an exception to the law, and the posse would have no legal basis for involvement. But”—he said, holding up his finger to emphasize a point—“as it stands now, minus that exception, she is in violation of the law, and that is all the cover we need.”
With that explanation, Kincaid understood, and he nodded his head. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I see what you mean.”
“Now, Mr. Kincaid,” Sherman said. “As a cattle rancher, if you wish to file a complaint because someone in your country is violating the herd management law, that will give the Idaho Auxiliary Peace Officers’ Posse a legal basis
