“Well, there’s not one,” Sam said from the other side of the buggy. “Sheriff Flagg was figuring that you’d hold court in the town hall, which is right down yonder.”
He pointed out that building.
“All right, let’s go have a look,” Stanfield said. “I’ll see if it’s suitable.”
As they drew up in front of the town hall, the commotion that was growing in the street because of the judge’s arrival—and the dead men on the horses being led by Matt and Sam—brought Flagg hurrying from the jail.
“Howdy, Judge,” he said as Stanfield was looping the reins around the buggy’s brake lever. “I’m Sheriff Cyrus Flagg. I don’t think we’ve met.”
“No, I’ve only recently been assigned to this circuit,” Stanfield said. He climbed down from the vehicle and shook hands with the sheriff. “Let’s have a look inside, shall we?”
Flagg hung back as Stanfield strode on into the building. He waved a pudgy hand at the corpses and asked Matt and Sam in a low voice, “What the hell happened? Are those some o’ Shade’s men?”
“Nope,” Matt replied. “Just some young saddle tramps who decided to turn owlhoot.”
“It was an unfortunate decision,” Sam added. “For them.”
“They tried to hold up the judge just as you boys came along and met him?” Flagg guessed.
“That’s right.”
Flagg shook his head. “Trouble’s like a bunch o’ rocks rollin’ downhill. Once it starts, it just keeps pickin’ up steam.”
He went on into the town hall after Judge Stanfield, and Matt and Sam took the bodies to Cassius Doolittle’s undertaking parlor. The undertaker, a round-faced man with thinning brown hair and a jolly smile, said, “My business has sure increased since you fellas hit town.”
“It’s not our doing,” Matt said. “Well, I guess in a way it is…but we haven’t gone looking for any of this trouble.”
“Actually, we did,” Sam said. “Remember how we stuck our heads out of those windows in the hotel when we heard something odd on the roof?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s a good thing we did.”
“No doubt about that,” Doolittle agreed. “The citizens of Arrowhead are lucky to have you two around right now.”
They stabled their horses and returned to the town hall just as Flagg and Judge Stanfield were emerging from the building. Stanfield declared that the hall would be satisfactory for the trial.
“We’ll begin the proceedings at one o’clock,” he said. “Is that all right with you, Sheriff?”
“Whenever you want to commence tryin’ that skunk is fine with me, Your Honor,” Flagg replied. “The sooner he’s convicted and out of my jail, the better.”
Stanfield frowned. “There’s such a thing as the presumption of innocence in this country, you know.”
“Well, no offense, Your Honor, but if you’d been here the night Shade and his bunch raided the town and saw all the suffering they caused, you wouldn’t presume anything except that he’s a low-down rattlesnake in human form.”
Stanfield grunted, but didn’t say anything else except, “I’d also like to clean up a bit, if someone will point me toward the hotel.”
“Right down here, Your Honor,” Sam said. “Matt and I will escort you.”
“Why would I need an escort here in town? Surely I’m in no danger here.”
“You wouldn’t think so,” Flagg said, “but there are a heap of folks in town today because word’s got around about the trial. Some of ’em are strangers to me, and we can’t be sure that none of ’em are part of Shade’s gang.”
A worried look crossed Stanfield’s face, as if he hadn’t considered that possibility. He nodded and said, “Very well. In that case, I’d be glad for you and Mr. Bodine to accompany me, Mr. Two Wolves.”
They started toward the hotel, with Matt and Sam being as watchful here on the main street of Arrowhead as they had been out on the trail. In a situation this volatile, there was no telling when or where danger could strike, so the blood brothers wanted to be ready in case it did.
Both of them noticed the weary-looking man on horseback plodding slowly down the street, but he wasn’t even armed so they didn’t pay that much attention to him. From the looks of him, he was no threat at all.
Ike Winslow saw the two men striding along the street, flanking a distinguished-looking gent with a beard, and wondered if they were Matt Bodine and Sam Two Wolves. The outlaw called Garth had told him about Bodine and Two Wolves. They were gunfighters who had aligned themselves with the townspeople and were helping to bring Joshua Shade to justice.
From what Ike had seen of Shade’s gang, the man probably deserved hanging. Anyone who could lead such a group of brutal hardcases had to be even worse himself.
A shudder went through Ike as he thought about his wife Maggie and son Caleb being in the hands of those varmints right this minute. All he could do to help them was follow the orders Garth had given him and hope to heaven that they weren’t being mistreated.
Ike had never felt more helpless in his life than when that bandit Gonzalez had charged up out of an arroyo and stuck a gun in his face. He hadn’t even had time to reach for the old single-shot rifle behind the wagon seat. Gonzalez had ordered Maggie to take it out and cast it aside, then forced Ike to drive at gunpoint toward the place where all the other outlaws were gathered.
His fear had grown even stronger as he saw those rough, ruthless men crowding in around the wagon and leering at Maggie. Working on the farm they had lost back in Ohio had toughened Ike’s muscles, but even so, he
