“How do we know that?” a new voice demanded. Bo looked around to see Luke Devery in the doorway. The men who’d been lining up there a moment earlier had shrunk back away from him. “Pa says he wants me to watch the whole thing and make sure nobody cheats.”
“Fine,” Bo said, waving Luke into the room. “Go right ahead. Just don’t say anything to anybody while they’re voting. That wouldn’t be proper.”
“Nothin’ about this whole business is proper,” Luke said. “The only proper thing is the Deverys runnin’ Mankiller, the way we always have.”
“Nothing stays the same,” Bo said, “whether we want it to or not.”
Luke stomped over behind the tables and took up position there, with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his bearded face. Bo saw a few of the men glancing nervously at him as they voted. That was exactly why Luke was here, to make men think twice about voting against the Deverys. Bo knew that, but there was nothing he could do about it. Luke was right when he said he had a right to monitor the election and make sure it was fair.
Scratch asked, “How come you ain’t voted yet, Luke?”
“I’ll vote when the rest of my family gets here,” Luke replied. “Deverys do things together.”
“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” Scratch said dryly. “That had somethin’ to do with gettin’ your brothers and your cousin arrested in that whorehouse ruckus.”
Luke didn’t say anything to that, just glared even darker.
An election was an exciting thing…at first. But then it became more tedious for the folks who had to stay there the whole time. The hours dragged by, and the crowd thinned out, although there were still quite a few people in the street. The only incident occurred when a couple of men tried to sneak through the line and vote a second time, but one of Rushford’s bartenders recognized them and turned them away.
Then there was a stirring in the people outside that caught Bo’s attention. He stepped onto the porch and looked up the hill, the same way everyone else was looking. Then he turned his head and called to those inside, “The Deverys are coming.”
Luke snorted. “Did you think the rest of us wouldn’t show up, Creel? One thing you better learn while you still can…Deverys don’t never give up. Never.”
Bo came back inside. A minute later, Jackson Devery marched in, his head held high and defiant arrogance etched on his face, as usual. He sneered at Bo, Scratch, and Rushford and said, “We’re here to vote.”
“I’d say you’re a legal resident of the town,” Bo told him. “Go right ahead.”
Devery got his ballot, marked it, and tossed it contemptuously into the strongbox. Luke went next, then Edgar and Granville and one by one all the other Deverys and Devery kinfolk. When they were finished, Jackson Devery asked, “How long does this sham of an election run?”
“Until three o’clock,” Rushford said. He checked his watch. “That’s a little over an hour from now.”
Devery’s lip curled. “Enjoy the time you got left,” he said in a menacing tone, then led the rest of the family out of the saloon. Luke stayed behind to continue his job as election watcher.
None of the other candidates had voted yet, but they came in a short time later as a group. After they voted, Wallace Kane asked, “Where’s Mrs. Bonner? Shouldn’t she be here?”
“She said she was too busy at the cafe to come down until the election was over,” Bo explained. He thought of someone else who wasn’t there and turned to Scratch. “Maybe one of us ought to go over to the jail and stay there for a while so Biscuits can cast his vote.”
“I’ll do it,” Scratch said. “Be glad for a chance to stretch my legs. This democracy business is inspirin’ as all get-out, but it’s a mite tiresome, too.”
Biscuits showed up a few minutes later, having been relieved by Scratch. “Rube and Sim are startin’ to get worried now,” he told Bo. “They’ve realized that if their side doesn’t win, they’re in trouble and might be locked up for a while.”
“What about Thad?”
Biscuits shook his head. “He’s still convinced that he’d gettin’ out of there today, one way or another. He says his uncle won’t let us get away with takin’ Mankiller away from him.” Biscuits rubbed his jaw. “I ain’t sure but what he’s right.”
“We’ll play the hand out to the end,” Bo said.
That end finally came. A short time after Biscuits had voted and returned to the jail, Rushford checked his watch again and then snapped it closed.
“Three o’clock!” he announced. “The election’s over. Everybody out except the deputies and my men.”
“I’m stayin’,” Luke said. “I ain’t budgin’ until every damn one of them votes is counted.”
Rushford looked at Bo, who nodded. “Seems fair enough, even though Luke’s a candidate, too. I’d rather his family had someone else here as their representative, but I reckon we can live with this.”
“Get to it, then,” Luke snapped.
When everyone was gone except Bo, Scratch, Luke, Rushford, and the three bartenders, the drink juggler who was in charge of the strongbox opened it up. One of the other bartenders brought out a chalkboard on which he had written the names of all the candidates. The man at the strongbox said, “I’ll take out each ballot one at a time and read the votes. You mark ’em down on the chalkboard, Gus.”
“I want to see those ballots,” Luke said.
Bo said, “Once they’ve been counted, you can have a look at them. You’ll see that nobody’s cheating here, Luke. This has been an honest election, and it’s going to stay that way.”
The bartender at the strongbox took out the first ballot, which had been folded by the man who cast it. He
