“Are you admitting that you thought we were dead?” Bo asked. “How would you know that if you didn’t have something to do with the attack on us?”
“Ain’t admittin’ nothin’,” Luke replied with a shake of his head. “I just figured that two fellas as proddy and troublesome as you would’ve wound up dead by now.” A sneer twisted his face. “You got nerve, wearin’ law badges when you refused to pay a legal and proper toll to cross the bridge yesterday, not to mention pullin’ guns on me and Thad when we was just doin’ our jobs.”
“Well, I reckon you’re right about that,” Bo said. Scratch started to protest, but Bo stopped him with a gesture. Facing Luke again, Bo went on, “We promised to come back and pay you if we found out we were in the wrong. Unfortunately, since then some no-good, cowardly thieves stole all our money.”
Luke’s beard bristled, and Thad snarled like a dog that wanted off its leash. Luke motioned for his cousin to control himself.
“So we’ll have to pay you that twelve dollars later,” Bo continued. “Just wanted you to know that we haven’t forgotten about it.” He paused. “We haven’t forgotten about anything that’s happened since we came to Mankiller.”
“Well, you’re gonna owe interest,” Luke blustered.
“We’ll pay it…within reason. Now, is there anything we can do for you fellas?”
“What the hell do you mean?”
Bo touched his badge with his left hand. His right remained where it was, hovering near the butt of his gun. “As you can see, Scratch and I are now deputies under Sheriff O’Brien. If you have any trouble, any legal complaints, you can come see us.”
Thad burst out, “We don’t have to come see nobody! This is our town! Devery law is the only law around here!”
Bo shook his head. “Not anymore.” He raised his voice so that it carried clearly to everyone gathered at this end of the street. “Mankiller has real law and order now. That goes for everyone. If
Luke glowered at the Texans as he said, “You hadn’t ought to make promises you can’t keep, old man.”
“We’ll keep that promise,” Bo said. “You can count on it.”
He knew that word of his comments would spread rapidly through the settlement and the hills where the mining claims were located. The Deverys were widely disliked around here, and he hoped that anyone who had legitimate grievances would come forward. If Bo and Scratch had proof that the family had committed crimes, they could not only bring the guilty parties to justice, but it would also give them some leverage to try to force the Deverys into treating people decently. Since the family actually did own the land, there was no legal way to stop them from claiming a portion of the proceeds. But they could be fair about it, and that was Bo’s goal.
Scratch, on the other hand, just wanted to kill Deverys…and it might come to that, Bo knew.
“You’re full of big talk,” Luke said, still sneering. “One of these days, you’ll have to back it up.”
“Any time you’re ready, Devery,” Scratch said. “Any time.”
Thad looked like he was ready right here and now. His eyes were wide and rolling like he was half out of his mind, and his teeth ground together as he worked his distinctive jaw back and forth. Luke put a hand on his arm and tugged him away, though.
“Come on,” he muttered. “We got to go talk to Pa.”
The crowd parted again to let the two of them stalk off toward the big old house at the top of the hill. Thad looked back over his shoulder at Bo and Scratch a couple of times with hatred gleaming in his eyes.
“That fella’s just one step away from a hydrophobia skunk,” Bo said.
“And it ain’t a very long step, neither,” Scratch agreed. “We’re gonna need eyes in the back of our heads, Bo.”
“I’m not so sure, at least not where Thad’s concerned. If he comes at us, I think it’ll be head-on, so he can see what he’s doing.”
“You could be right about that. I’m gonna keep an eye out behind me, anyway.”
“Always a wise thing to do,” Bo concurred.
They crossed the street and started back up the hill. The buzz of conversation behind them was even louder now, and the stares of the townspeople were more intense. The Texans gave friendly nods to the citizens they passed. Some of those nods were returned warily, others were ignored. Nobody was quite sure yet what to make of them.
After they had gone a couple of blocks, they came to the disreputable-looking barn that housed Edgar’s Livery Stable. Bo and Scratch looked at each other but didn’t have to say anything. They turned and went into the barn through the open double doors.
“Hello!” Bo called. “Edgar! Are you here?”
The stocky liveryman came out of the tack room carrying a pitchfork. He stopped short at the sight of the Texans and then started backing away. Lifting the pitchfork to point the razor-sharp tines at them, he said, “Now, you fellas stay away from me! What happened weren’t my fault. You shouldn’t’a come in here and started that trouble!”
Bo frowned at him. “What in blazes are you talking about? We didn’t start any trouble.”
“That’s right,” Scratch said. “Hell, it was them other hombres who jumped us!”
Edgar kept the pitchfork in front of him and shook his head stubbornly. “That ain’t the way I seen it, and I’ll testify to that in any court of law I have to! You fellas came in here and got mad about the price I quoted you for takin’ care o’your horses. Then you started raisin’ a ruckus about it, and it was just pure luck my boy and some o’
