and see the Castles, I’m gonna make him aware of the facts and make it clear to him what will happen if he interferes.”
Then he shrugged. “Of course, all of this is just talk if I don’t get a bench warrant from a federal judge in Nebraska that gives me the right to go out and arrest the Castles and search their premises.”
“Why would you want to search their premises?”
“You never know what you might find, Mabelle. I’m just trying to put a little heat on the old man to make him give Virgil up. I think they are all aware that he is the one that is killing these soldiers. I think they are protecting him. I’ve got to make the price so high that Vernon Castle is willing to surrender his own son to save the rest of them.”
Mabelle shook her head. “Well, all I can do is wish you luck.”
Longarm’s face was grim. “Just hope that I get that telegram. I just want the chance.”
He spent the morning and the early part of the afternoon hanging around his hotel and fretting, hoping, waiting impatiently for an answer to the telegram he had sent to Omaha. At about three o’clock, a messenger from the telegraph office finally brought him the envelope that he had been waiting for. He gave the boy a half a dollar, and went to his room and opened it anxiously.
It was exactly what he had hoped for. It was an official bench warrant from a federal judge in Omaha empowering him to arrest the Castle brothers, their progeny, and any or all of their employees who might in any way be linked to the importation and sale of cattle brought into the United States by means other than those proscribed by the laws governing the introduction of livestock to the United States from foreign soil. He was further empowered to seize all assets or items that might in any way be construed to have been a part of this illegal operation. It further instructed any and all law enforcement authorities, be they local, county, state, or federal, to assist Deputy United States Marshal Custis Long in the furtherance of his duty. Failure to do so would subject those law officers to such charges as the federal judiciary might care to bring. It was signed by Judge J.P. Bridgewater.
There was a second telegram in the envelope. It was from Longarm’s friend, the deputy in Omaha. It said simply:
THIS OUGHT TO SATISFY YOU STOP NOW, HOW ABOUT GIVING ME BACK MY HORSE AND WIFE STOP
Longarm chortled with glee at his friend’s joke, but mainly at the bench warrant from the judge. Even though it was sent in the form of a telegram, it was as official as if it had been written by the judge’s own hand.
He folded the telegram and put it into his shirt pocket. He strapped on his gunbelt and made ready to go have a quick visit with Sheriff Smith before going out to the Castle ranch. His intention was to apprehend the Vernon Castle family and then go after James Castle. He didn’t think that he would bother with James Castle’s young sons and daughters.
First he went around to the stable and gave instructions to have his chestnut saddled and left in front of the sheriff’s office.
He walked across the street to Sheriff Smith’s office. On the boardwalk, he stopped for a moment to take his badge out of his shirt pocket and pin it to the fabric. Then he opened the door and stepped inside. The sheriff was alone at his desk. He looked up in annoyance as Longarm walked toward him.
Sheriff Smith said, “I thought I told you to get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see you or hear you or smell you.”
For an answer, Longarm tapped his chest, directing the sheriff’s attention toward the badge.
The sheriff peered and then fumbled around on his desk until he found his glasses. He put them on, curling them behind his ears, and stared at Longarm’s chest. He said, “What the hell? You’re a deputy U.S. marshal. What the hell do you mean coming into my town and not telling me you’re here!”
Longarm said evenly, “Listen, Sheriff Smith, this is not a real good time to get on my cross side. So you listen to me carefully. I am going out to arrest Vernon Castle and any of his sons that are in their right mind. I am going to arrest them for bringing illegal Mexican cattle into this state and selling them into the northern markets.”
Sheriff Smith said, blustering, “You’ll do no damn such thing. This is my county and nobody comes in here and arrests its citizens without my say-so. You got that, Marshal?”
Longarm tapped his badge. “Smith, my badge is bigger than yours. Don’t give me no trouble. I’m going out to arrest the Castles and I’m going to bring them in and house them in your jail, do you understand me?”
Smith stood up. “The hell you will.”
Longarm leaned forward. “Sheriff, you defy me and you had better be prepared to spend some time in a federal penitentiary.”
Smith said, “You go to hell, mister.”
Longarm reached into his pocket for the telegram. He said, “That is Marshal to you, Sheriff. Marshal Custis Long.”
The sheriff looked puzzled. “Longarm?”
“You got it right. Now, take a look at this.” He unfolded the telegram and spread it on the desk in front of the sheriff.
In order to read it, the sheriff was forced to sit back down. It took him several minutes. He read it and then reread it and then finally reread it one last time. He took his glasses off and looked up at Longarm. He said, “You sneaky sonofabitch.”
Longarm said, “You better watch your mouth, Sheriff Smith. I already don’t much care for your attitude. It wouldn’t take much more to get me down on you. Now, I’m going to go out to the Castles and when I bring them in here, you better be ready.” He put out a finger and tapped the telegram. “You better be ready to comply with what that federal bench warrant says or I’ll put you in one of your own cells. Do you understand that?”
The sheriff looked at him steadily. “There is just you. I’ve got two deputies and myself and I can get a few more deputies if I need them.”
“Yes, and there is a fort full of soldiers out there and I can requisition them as fast as I can requisition a horse or a blanket from them. Now if you fool with me, you’ll have federal marshals coming out of your ears. Do you
