Botts said, “I don’t care if you’re a deputy sheriff to the President of the United States. You have no night arresting a man like Vernon Castle.”
From his cell, Vernon Castle said, “Clarence, get us out of here. The man has some sort of bogus telegram from a federal judge. Just get us the hell out of here.”
Mr. Botts said placatingly, “Mr. Castle, I will have you out of here within the hour. You can be assured of that.”
Longarm reached for his pocket and took out the warrant. He said, “I wouldn’t be quite so sure about all that, Mr. Botts. You better read this. It’s from a federal judge out of Omaha, Nebraska.”
While Botts was reading the telegram and reading it again and rereading it, Longarm stood serenely by. He figured that he was much more experienced in such matters than the small-town lawyer. What the lawyer was about to find out was that no local judge could vacate the warrant or set bail. That could only be done by a federal judge, and the nearest federal judge was 150 miles away.
Mr. Botts finished reading the telegram and cleared his throat several times. He looked at Mr. Castle and said, “Mr. Castle, I want you to be very understanding about something, sir.”
Vernon Castle was so angry that he could hardly speak. He said, “What do you mean you’ve got to get to a federal judge to get us out of this damn jail. Get over to Judge Watkins. Get him to set bail or to release me immediately. My God, when I think of the money I’ve contributed to that man’s campaign.”
Mr. Botts was clearly uncomfortable giving Mr. Castle bad news. He said, “You see, that’s just it. Judge Watkins is a state judge, a circuit judge. I’ve got to get to a federal judge in San Antonio.”
Vernon Castle was staggered. He shouted, “San Antonio! My God, that will take you twenty-four hours!”
Longarm said mildly, “It’s gonna take you a little longer than that. Federal judges don’t just vacate other judges’ warrants without good cause. There’ll have to be some correspondence between that judge and the one in Omaha. I think that you’d better just settle down for a nice stay.”
Vernon Castle stared at his lawyer. “Clarence, does this man know what he is talking about?”
Botts ducked his head. “I am afraid so, Mr. Castle.”
Across the way, Billy Bob was up, gripping the bars of his cell with his huge hands. He shook the door so that it clanked and rattled. He said, “Goddamnit, Paw. We got to get out of here. I can’t stand being locked up like this. I can’t stand it. You’ve gotta get us out of here.”
Vernon Castle looked at him. “Billy Bob,” he said, “I don’t need none of that right now. You settle down. You hush, you hear? Settle down like Glenn is. Let me work on this.” He turned his attention back to his lawyer. He said with menace in his voice, “Botts, you contact every important man I know and you cascade that judge in San Antonio with telegrams from those people. You be on the next train outta here for San Antonio. Do you see me? Do you see the fact that I am standing in a jail cell where God knows what vermin have been? And this man”—he jabbed his finger maliciously at Longarm—“is responsible. I want it stated right here and now that I will have this sonofabitch’s badge, if not his head.”
Longarm said calmly, “Better walk easy there, Mr. Castle. You are coming mighty close to threatening a law officer.”
Vernon Castle said, “You go to hell.” He switched back to the lawyer. “Clarence, get moving! Now! Do whatever you have to do, just get us out of here!”
Clarence Botts turned to Longarm. He said, “I need that warrant.”
Longarm laughed. “Not very damn likely,” he said. “I’ll let you write out a copy of it if you want, but I’m not about to give you this official copy. This is the same as if it were taken from the hand of the judge himself.”
Botts said, “All right, let’s go into the sheriff’s office so I can make a copy.”
Longarm and the lawyer walked out to where the sheriff was sitting morosely at his desk. When he understood what the lawyer wanted, he provided writing materials and watched as Mr. Botts wrote out the telegram meticulously, word for word. When he was through, Mr. Botts folded the copy and put it in his pocket.
Botts said to the sheriff, “Please, please. Try to settle Mr. Castle down. Make him just as comfortable as you possibly can. I’ll be back just as soon as I can.”
Sheriff Smith glared at Longarm. “There ain’t much I can do,” he said. “This is the sonofabitch that is making him uncomfortable.”
Longarm said, “I believe that’s about the thirtieth time that I have been called a sonofabitch in the last hour. When it gets to fifty, I may go to doing something about it.”
Mr. Botts said to Longarm, “Marshal, you may have bitten off a little more than you can chew.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, Mr. Botts. A lot of people have told me that I have a big mouth.”
Longarm watched as the frantic, plump little lawyer hurried out the door. Then he turned his eyes on the sheriff. “Sheriff Smith,” he said, “I am going to leave right now and I want to make one thing real clear to you. When I come back—and I could come back anytime night or day—those Castle people had better be where I left them just now. If they ain’t, you’re gonna replace them. Do you understand me?”
Sheriff Smith looked at Longarm with venom in his eyes. He said, “For right now, and just for right now, you are holding the best cards. But there will be a new deal soon enough.”
“Maybe so, and maybe not. This may be the last hand for all you know.”
The sheriff said, “You forget one thing, Marshal. You ain’t but one man. This town is solid behind the Castles.”
