“Everyone says,” went on Waters, “that no one except a man named Minter has done such work in meeting the criminal element on their own ground. You have kept your county peaceful. I believe that is true?”
“Huh,” repeated McGuire. “Kind of soft-soapy, but it ain't all wrong. They ain't been much doing in these parts since I started to clean things up.”
“Until recently,” suggested Waters.
The face of the sheriff darkened. “Well?” he asked aggressively.
“And then two crimes in a row. First, a gun brawl in broad daylight— young Hollis shot a fellow named—er —”
“Larrimer,” snapped the sheriff viciously. “It was a square fight. Larrimer forced the scrap.”
“I suppose so. Nevertheless, it was a gunfight. And next, two men raid the bank in the middle of your town, and in spite of you and of special guards, blow the door off a safe and gut the safe of its contents. Am I right?”
The sheriff merely scowled.
“It ain't clear to me yet,” he declared, “how you and me get together on any topic we got in common. Looks sort of like we was just hearing one old yarn over and over agin.”
“My dear sir,” smiled Waters, “you have not allowed me to come to the crux of my story. Which is: that you and I have one great object in common—to dispose of this Terry Hollis, for I take it for granted that if you were to get rid of him the people who criticize now would do nothing but cheer you. Am I right?”
“If I could get him,” sighed the sheriff. “Mr. Waters, gimme time and I'll get him, right enough. But the trouble with the gents around these parts is that they been spoiled. I cleaned up all the bad ones so damn quick that they think I can do the same with every crook that comes along. But this Hollis is a slick one, I tell you. He covers his tracks. Laughs in my face, and admits what he done, when he talks to me, like he done the other day. But as far as evidence goes, I ain't got anything on him—yet. But I'll get it!”
“And in the meantime,” said Waters brutally, “they say that you're getting old.”
The sheriff became a brilliant purple.
“Do they say that?” he muttered. “That's gratitude for you, Mr. Waters! After what I've done for 'em—they say I'm getting old just because I can't get anything on this slippery kid right off!”
He changed from purple to gray. To fail now and lose his position meant a ruined life. And Waters knew what was in his mind.
“But if you got Terry Hollis, they'd be stronger behind you than ever.”
“Ah, wouldn't they, though? Tell me what a great gent I was quick as a flash.”
He sneered at the thought of public opinion.
“And you see,” said Waters, “where I come in is that I have a plan for getting this Hollis you desire so much.”
“You do?” He rose and grasped the arm of Waters. “You do?”
Waters nodded.
“It's this way. I understand that he killed Larrimer, and Larrimer's older brother is the one who is rousing public opinion against you. Am I right?”
“The dog! Yes, you're right.”
“Then get Larrimer to send Terry Hollis an invitation to come down into town and meet him face to face in a gun fight. I understand this Hollis is a daredevil sort and wouldn't refuse an invitation of that nature. He'd have to respond or else lose his growing reputation as a maneater.”
“Maneater? Why, Bud Larrimer wouldn't be more'n a mouthful for him. Sure he'd come to town. And he'd clean up quick. But Larrimer ain't fool enough to send such an invite.”
“You don't understand me,” persisted Waters patiently. “What I mean is this. Larrimer sends the challenge, if you wish to call it that. He takes up a certain position. Say in a public place. You and your men, if you wish, are posted nearby, but out of view when young Hollis comes. When Terry Hollis arrives, the moment he touches a gun butt, you fill him full of lead and accuse him of using unfair play against Larrimer. Any excuse will do. The public want an end of young Hollis. They won't be particular with their questions.”
He found it difficult to meet the narrowed eyes of the sheriff.
“What you want me to do,” said the sheriff, with slow effort, “is to set a trap, get Hollis into it, and then— murder him?”
“A brutal way of putting it, my dear fellow.”
“A true way,” said the sheriff.
But he was thinking, and Waters waited.
When he spoke, his voice was soft enough to blend with the sheriff's thoughts without actually interrupting them.
“You're not a youngster any more, sheriff, and if you lose out here, your reputation is gone for good. You'll not have the time to rebuild it. Here is a chance for you not only to stop the evil rumors, but to fortify your past record with a new bit of work that will make people talk of you. They don't really care how you do it. They won't split hairs about method. They want Hollis put out of the way. I say, cache yourself away. Let Hollis come to meet Larrimer in a private room. You can arrange it with Larrimer yourself later on. You shoot from concealment the moment Hollis shows his face. It can be said that Larrimer did the shooting, and beat Hollis to the draw. The glory of it will bribe Larrimer.”
The sheriff shook his head. Waters leaned forward.
“My friend,” he said. “I represent in this matter a wealthy man to whom the removal of Terry Hollis will be
