understand that, Smith?”
The sheriff tried to stare back at Longarm for a second. His jaw muscles worked, but finally he dropped his eyes. “I hope that you know what the hell you are doing,” he said. “You don’t fool around with a family like the Castles that easily. You’re going to cost me my job, dammit.”
“Surprisingly enough, Sheriff, I don’t give a damn about your job. You’ve had it too soft for too long. You’ve been serving the wrong master. You’re supposed to be serving the voters of this county, not Vernon Castle or his brother James.”
He reached out and took the telegram, folded it, and put it back in his pocket. “I will expect you to be here in this jail ready to receive prisoners in about two or three hours.”
The sheriff said maliciously, “That is if you get off that ranch alive, which ain’t all that sure.”
Longarm turned for the door. “Well, I reckon that you had better let me worry about that.”
Longarm approached the Vernon Castle ranch headquarters warily. There was a big gate and a fence that led to the ranch house. He stopped in the opening and studied the lay of the land. He could see a few cattle and a few cowhands working off in the distance. His objective was to catch all four of the immediate family together at the same time. It was just after five o’clock. His hope was that they would be in from the day’s work and would be having a drink before dinner.
He started up the road that led to the whitewashed house with the red tile roof. As he neared, he could see that it had a big wide front porch. He saw no one hanging about the place.
When he reached the front of the house, he dropped his reins and dismounted slowly. He thought of taking his rifle into the house, but decided against it. He wanted to get in and look around before he let them know that his intentions were hostile.
There was a big brass knocker on the wooden front door. He rapped it loudly. After a few moments, it was answered by a Mexican lady, a servant most likely.
Longarm said, “Senor Vernon Castle, please.”
She nodded as if she didn’t speak much English and pulled the door open and stepped aside. Longarm walked into the big, cool interior of the front room. It was styled with a high ceiling and filled with heavy Mexican furniture.
Longarm said, “Is Senor Castle here?”
The woman nodded, backing away. She said, “Si, si. Senor Castle is aqui. Yo venga.”
Longarm figured she wanted him to follow her. They were just crossing the big parlor when a man stepped out from a side room. He was tall and well built, with a shock of white hair. He was well dressed and looked as if he belonged.
Longarm said, “Mr. Castle?”
The man looked at him inquiringly. “Yes, and who might you be?”
Longarm said, “I’m Deputy United States Marshal Custis Long. I’m here to arrest you and your sons for the theft and illegal importation of Mexican cattle. I have a bench warrant from a judge in Omaha, Nebraska.”
Vernon Castle reacted as if he had been slapped in the face with a two-by-four. He went ashen white and staggered backwards a foot. He said, “What? You’ve got what?”
Longarm said, “Where are your sons?”
Vernon Castle said, “You haven’t got any damn warrant for my arrest. I haven’t been in Omaha in two years.”
“You don’t have to be in Omaha, just the cattle that you brought into this country illegally. Whether you stole them or not is another matter, but you brought them into this country illegally and you shipped them to Omaha as American-bred cattle. That is a felony and you are now under arrest for it. I ask you again, where are your sons? They are also fugitives. If you harbor fugitives, that is a second felony.”
Castle was trying hard to regain his composure. He looked around wildly and said, “I don’t know where they are.”
Longarm said, “Then let’s go into your office and wait for them.”
Castle thought for a moment and then backed toward the door he had just exited from. He said, “All right, but-“
Before he could finish the sentence, a door slammed in the back part of the house and there was the sound of heavy boots and the jingling of spurs. Both Vernon Castle and Longarm froze.
Vernon Castle started to open his mouth. Longarm put a finger to his lips. Before Vernon Castle could speak, Billy Bob Castle and his brother Glenn came walking into the big parlor. They stopped instantly when they saw Longarm. They were perhaps ten yards away. For a second they stared at him, and then recognition dawned on both, almost at the same time. A gleam came into the heavy face of Billy Bob. He started forward. Vernon Castle was not armed, but both of his sons were wearing gunbelts.
Longarm put out a hand. “Stop right there!” he said. “My name is Custis Long and I am a deputy U.S. marshal and you are both under arrest for the theft and illegal importation of Mexican cattle. Remove those gunbelts and drop them on the floor.”
They stared at him in disbelief, their eyes finally settling on the badge on his chest. They looked at one another and then back at Longarm. Glenn Castle said to his father, “Dad, is he telling the truth? What is this all about?”
Longarm reached into his pocket and pulled out the telegram. He said, “I have here a bench warrant from a judge in Omaha, Nebraska, calling for your arrest and extradition to that state to face charges for the illegal importation of cattle to the United States. I told you to drop those gunbelts.”
