“Yeah, well, what he done was put a fender on. When I couldn’t pay for the fender, I took it off and give it back to him, but that wasn’t good enough. He wanted my whole saddle. So me’n Hank took the saddle anyway.”
“Which is when the deputy showed up, and that’s how we wound up in here,” Hank said, finishing the story.
“If me’n Cal can get this cleared up, would you two boys agree to work for Sugarloaf?”
Hank nodded. “Yeah, we’ll come work for Sugarloaf, won’t we, LeRoy?”
“Sure. It’s better than bein’ in here.”
A little bell rang as the door to Pogue’s leather- goods store was opened.
“I’ll be right with you,” a reed-thin voice called from the back of the store.
A moment later a small, bald-headed man appeared. He was wearing an apron, and it was apparent he had been doing some leatherwork in the shop behind the store. Examples of his work were on display about the store, and Cal had to admit that the man was an artisan.
“Yes, sir, can I help you gentlemen?” Pogue asked. Then, recognizing them, he smiled. “You two men work for Mr. Smoke Jensen, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Pearlie said.
“He’s a fine man. Are you perhaps looking for something for him?”
Cal was looking at a belt, holding it up to examine the intricate scrolling in the leather.
“That is a fine belt, if I do say so myself,” Pogue said.
“Yes, sir, it is pretty all right,” Cal agreed.
“I can make you a very good price for it.”
“Uh, no, sir, we ain’t here to buy nothin’,” Pearlie said.
The smile left Pogue’s face.
“Then why are you here?” he asked.
“We want to talk to you about the Butrum brothers.”
“Oh, them,” Pogue said. “They are brutish men, the two of them. I hope the sheriff sends them to prison. They need to learn that they can’t just come in here and take what doesn’t belong to them.”
“But the saddle did belong to them, didn’t it? It was LeRoy’s saddle, I believe.”
“In a manner of speaking, it was his saddle,” Pogue agreed. “But I had a legitimate lien against it. And until that lien is satisfied, the saddle belongs to me.”
“Would it square things with you if the lien was paid off?” Pearlie asked.
“As far as not makin’ a claim on the saddle, yes, it would,” Pogue said. “But I would still like to see them punished.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because they need to know that they can’t just run roughshod over decent citizens. Besides, I’m a little frightened of them,” Pogue added.
“Suppose you were paid off the ten dollars, and the Butrums left town so there would be no possibility of them causing you any more trouble. Would that satisfy you?”
Pogue studied Pearlie for a moment. “Why are you so interested in what happens to the Butrums?”
“Because Smoke is going to drive a herd of cows north, and we want to hire the Butrum boys to help us. But we can’t as long as they are in jail.”
“How far north?”
“All the way to Wyoming.”
Pogue whistled quietly. “That’s a long way to drive cattle.”
“Yes. And it should certainly be far enough to keep the boys out of your hair,” Pearlie said.
“What hair?” Cal asked, laughing out loud.
For a moment, the expression on Pogue’s face was one of irritation over the allusion to his lack of hair. Then, he began to laugh, and he rubbed his hand across his bald head.
“Yes, what hair indeed?” he replied. “All right, boys. If you see to it that I get my ten dollars, I’ll inform Sheriff Carson that I don’t intend to press charges.”
“Thank you,” Pearlie said. He pulled out his billfold, then extracted ten dollars and gave it to Pogue.
“Thanks,” Pogue said, taking the money. He took a pencil and piece of paper from behind the shelf, then wrote out:
“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, have you really thought about what you are doing?” Sheriff Carson asked a few minutes later as he released Billy, Hank, and LeRoy to Pearlie and Cal.
“I’m sure,” Pearlie answered. “I know Billy to be a good hand, and if he vouches for the other two, that’s good enough for me.”
