judge.”
Owen hid what little curiosity he felt and played it McKeever's way, although he was sure that the banker had not come all the way to Lazy Creek to talk about corn. “Figured I'd clear that space next year, if I can get the Stanley boys to give me a hand,” he said. “Providing, of course, that my credit's still good at the bank.”
“A Toller don't have to worry about credit in Reunion,” McKeever said expansively. “And your own boys will be big enough to help you before too many years.” Owen laughed. “I guess you're right.” He left it hanging there. McKeever would pick it up when he was ready.
The banker fumbled a cigar out of his vest pocket and glanced about the small room. “Looks like you'll be needin' a bigger house here, Owen, the way your family's started to grow.
“I might, at that,” Owen agreed.
And now McKeever was ready to come out with it. He held a match to his cigar, sat back, and fixed Owen with his expressionless eyes. “Owen,” he asked, “how would you like to make a thousand dollars?”
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “that all depends on what I'd be called on to do.”
“But you could use the thousand, couldn't you?”
“Sure,” he said carefully.
“Well, Owen, that's the amount the reward comes to. For the capture of the Brunner boys.”
A door slammed in Owen's mind. Ben had made a long trip for nothing. “I'm sorry, Ben. I can't help you.”
“Dead or alive.”
Owen shook his head, and there was coolness in his eyes. “It's been five years since I've strapped on a gun, Ben. All that's behind me. Even if I wanted to do it, I couldn't I've got my family to think about.”
He saw that McKeever was merely waiting for him to finish in order to continue with his own argument. Owen knew that he would have to state his feelings as strongly as possible and leave no room for doubt. He said, “I'm a farmer, Ben, not a lawman. The people of this county decided that for me five years ago. If you want the Brunner boys captured, why don't you go to Will Cushman? He's the sheriff of the county.”
McKeever showed no embarrassment for what he guessed was in Owen's mind. “Now, Owen,” he said mildly, “I wouldn't have pegged you as one to hold a grudge because I supported Cushman when he ran against you for sheriff.”
“I hold no grudge, Ben. I merely pointed out that Will is the sheriff, not me.”
“And I don't need to point out,” the banker said bluntly, “that the Brunners have made a fool of Will Cushman. He's the laughingstock of the hills. They say our sheriff couldn't find his nose with both hands, and they're right.”
Owen started shaking his head again, but McKeever broke in before he could speak. “Cushman hasn't got the guts for the job. I know,” he said, holding up a hand, “I should have thought of that before supporting him. But it's too late for that now. Owen, Oklahoma's a new state; it's just learning to walk. Back East there are capitalists itchin' to throw millions of dollars into our state, but they don't dare risk it as long as there are men like the Brunners to threaten their investments. Now, I have confidential information that a railroad has plans to lay track to Reunion. But the James brothers are fresh in their minds. And the Doolins. Now it's the Brunners, and there's talk that the railroad has changed its plans and the track is going somewhere else. Owen, don't you see what this means?”
“I don't see what it has to do with me,” Owen said. “The Brunners are none of my business.”
McKeever's naturally florid face became red. “They will be your business,” he said angrily, “if they keep the railroad out of Reunion. Don't you realize what a railroad would mean to you farmers? It would multiply your present market a hundred—a thousand times!”
Owen refused to be ruffled. He said quietly, “The James boys couldn't stop the railroad. I doubt that the Brunners can do it either.”
McKeever lurched forward in his chair. “I happen to know they can! The railroad plans ain't settled. They're surveying a spur-line route to Reunion, but they've also laid out a western route that could join up with the Santa Fe. It's a ticklish proposition; the least thing could throw them away from one plan and make them settle on the other.”
Owen sat quietly, saying nothing.
“I tell you,” McKeever went on, “if we don't get this railroad, eastern Oklahoma will lag twenty years behind the rest of the state. That's how important it is. The people of this county have got to make the decision, and we don't have much time. Eastern capital pouring in here can mean the difference between prosperity and poverty for the settlers, the difference between good roads and wagon tracks. Schools, industry. Oklahoma is just beginning to come alive. We can't let outlaws like the Brunners strangle it before it gets big enough to fight for itself!”
“I know,” Owen said calmly.
McKeever smiled, thinking that he had made his point.
“I know,” Owen said again. “That's the reason the people elected Will Cushman sheriff.”
The banker's smile bent like hot wax, but he was skilled in diplomacy and held his temper. “We need you, Owen,” he said tightly. “All the people of the county need you.”
“I'm sorry, Ben.”
There was storm in Ben McKeever's pale eyes. “You mean you won't do it?”
“I mean I can't do it. I told you, Ben, I'm a family man now, and a farmer. Not a lawman.”
The banker was making a great effort, but he was slowly losing the grip on his temper. Laboriously he pushed himself out of the chair. “Owen Toller,” he said. “Once people mentioned the name in the same breath with Earp and Masterson. I didn't think a man like you would ever back down from toughs like the Brunners.”
