“If you're bound to get yourself killed,” Dunc said harshly, “that's as good a way as any.”
“You won't give me a hand, then?”
“No.”
“You'd rather rot away in jail?”
“Yes.”
“And what about the girl? Don't you care about her?” Dunc Lester said nothing, but turned and glared. Thoughtfully Owen took his pipe from his vest pocket, tore shreds of tobacco from a piece of cut plug, and tamped it carefully into the bowl, “You know what I think, Dunc? I think you're in trouble with the gang, probably because of the girl. Now, you must think a good deal of Leah Stringer to get yourself in the kind of fix you're in. Who shot her, son? One of the Brunner boys?” Dunc held his hard silence.
“Do you think they'll let her alone, just because you managed to get her out of the hills, Dunc? You ought to know that Ike Brunner doesn't give up that easy. It may take some time, a month, or a year, but if the Brunners have something serious against that girl, they'll find her.” He paused, then added, “As long as the Brunners are free, that is. And you can't help her, son, here in jail.”
This was a brutal truth that had Dunc Lester worried, and Owen knew it. For the first time in his violent young life he had come to know complete helplessness.
Now he was trying to convince himself that he didn't care about Leah, but the ring of truth was not there. He fixed his hard gaze on Owen's face, and at last he said, “Could I talk to her?”
Owen nodded. “I think I could fix that with Arch Deland.”
“What will happen to her if I go with you after Ike Brunner?”
“You don't have to go with me; I just want to know where they are. I'll have the girl sent out to my farm and she can stay with my wife until you're able to meet her.”
Dunc thought that over and seemed satisfied. “How many deputies are you takin' with you?”
“None. I figure a bunch of men would only scatter the gang and give the Brunners a chance to get away.”
Dunc Lester grinned faintly. “There's just one Brunner. Cal's dead.” He did not say how the young outlaw died, and, tactfully, Owen did not ask. “Maybe you're right about scatterin' the gang,” Dunc went on, “but just one man would never stand a chance of comin' out of those hills alive.”
“If he knew where Ike's headquarters was, he might.”
“But he won't know,” Dunc said flatly. “They used to be at Ulster's Cave, but they moved after I pulled out with Leah. I'll go with you.”
This was more co-operation than Owen had expected, and his professional caution warned him to be careful. “Would you mind telling me why you suddenly changed your mind about helping?”
The question seemed to catch the boy off guard. “I'm not sure,” he said. “You offered to help Leah. You did it once, so I guess you'll do it again. And you're no dude sheriff lookin' for rewards or runnin' for office.”
Owen smiled. “Those reasons are as good as any, I suppose.” He rattled the bars for the deputy. “Arch, can you let this boy talk to the Stringer girl?”
“It's against Will's orders.”
“I'll stand responsible to the sheriff.”
Arch shrugged. “Well, I never liked this job much, anyway. But one of us will have to stay with them.”
“I'll do it,” Owen said. He waited for Deland to unlock the cell door, then took the key to the jury room and nodded to Dunc. The boy stepped cautiously out of the cell, his eyes darting suspiciously from one face to the other. “It's no trap,” Owen said, “I'm just taking you up to talk to Leah. That's what you wanted, isn't it?”
Yes.” And some of his suspicion seemed to vanish. There was curiosity in his glance, but he was slowly learning that all outsiders were not so completely mean as Ike Brunner had made them out.
Owen could feel that the boy trusted him, and he grinned at Arch Deland's dubious frown. “If Will comes in while we're gone, ask him to wait.”
They went up the basement stairs to the ground floor, and up another flight to the courtroom. “I'll have to stay with you until I arrange for your release with the sheriff,” Owen said.
They walked the length of the courtroom to a door behind the judge's bench. Owen unlocked the door and the two of them stepped inside. Leah was at one end of the jury table, her face buried in her arms, as though she were asleep. She made a startled little sound when the door opened.
“It's all right, Leah,” Dunc Lester said. “The marshal here's goin' to help us.”
Owen had not guessed that this hard young man could be so gentle. The girl came to her feet, her eyes wide, and Dunc went to her and took her hands. “Everything's goin' to come out fine,” he said softly. “The marshal's goin' to send you out to his place to stay with his wife.” He kept talking for a long while, and it wasn't what he said so much as the sound of his voice that seemed to quiet her.
At last the girl looked at him, and it was almost as if she had never seen him before. “I'm glad they let you talk to me,” she said.
“Thank the marshal for that.”
“Is he goin' to take you back to jail?”
“No. I'm goin' with him back to the hills.”
“Ike'll kill you!” There was a new kind of fear in her voice.
