“Whomp ’im,” Matthew said.
“Not quite, Matthew,” Shaye said. “The sheriff still has time to tell us something.”
“Like what?” James asked.
“Like what direction the Langer gang went.”
“Ain’t they goin’ north?” Matthew asked. “I thought they was goin’ north.”
“We hope they’re still going north,” Shaye said. “Let’s see what the sheriff tries to tell us.”
“Why do you think he’ll tell us anything?” James asked.
Shaye looked around. The saloon was pretty busy but they’d been able to secure a corner table. It didn’t appear that anyone was paying attention to them.
“You think Langer left somebody behind?” Thomas asked.
“That’s good thinking, Thomas,” Shaye said. “Yeah, I was wondering if he might have left a man behind. Nobody seems to be paying us much mind, though.”
Shaye was sitting so he could see the whole room. He gave his attention back to his sons.
“To answer your question, James,” he said, “if the sheriff took money from Langer, it was to misdirect us. My guess is he’ll come looking for me in a little while to do just that.”
“And then we whomp ’im?” Matthew asked.
Shaye smiled at his middle son. “Be patient, Matthew,” he said. “Maybe you’ll get your chance.”
Shaye made sure that he and his boys nursed only a beer or two, so that when Sheriff Sam Torrence came walking through the bat-wing doors, they would all be sober.
“Here he is,” he said. “You boys take a walk over to the bar and let me talk to him.”
Matthew and James stood up and obeyed immediately. Thomas hesitated.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay, Pa?”
“I’ll call you if I need you, Thomas. Don’t worry.”
Thomas cast a look Torrence’s way, then turned and went to join his brothers at the bar.
Torrence walked over and joined Shaye at the table. “Three good-looking boys, Dan,” he said, sitting down.
“Thanks.”
“That big one looks just like you, only half again.”
“The other two favor their ma.”
“I can see that.”
“You want a beer?”
“Not while I’m on duty, Dan,” Sam Torrence said. “I’m makin’ my rounds.”
Shaye held back a laugh. “You come over here to tell me something, then?”
“I asked around,” Torrence said. “Found out somethin’ you should know.”
“Like what?”
“Like the Langer gang is east of here.”
“East? You sure?”
“That’s what I heard.”
“What would they be doing in New Mexico?”
“Checkin’ out another bank?”
“No,” Shaye said, “it’s too soon. They have a pattern. Ethan hits a bank, Aaron hits a bank, and then they meet up.”
“Maybe they’re breakin’ their pattern?”
“Not likely,” Shaye said. “There’s something else more likely.”
“Like what?”
Shaye looked over at the bar and saw Thomas watching him. He nodded to his oldest son, who nudged his brothers. They all came walking over.
“Sam, it’s more likely you’re lying to me,” Shaye said.
Torrence looked up at the three young men standing around him, then back at Shaye. “Hey, Dan—”
“You’re going to get up and walk out of here with us, Sam,” Shaye said.
“Hey, hey, Dan—”
“If you make a fuss, I’ll kill you.”
Thomas and Matthew closed in on the lawman so he was in tight quarters. “And don’t reach for your gun,” Thomas said.
“You boys realize you’re playin’ with the law here?” Torrence asked, looking up at them.
“My pa’s the law,” Matthew said. “If he says to kill you, we’ll kill you.”
Torrence looked across the table at Shaye.
“What can I tell you, Sam?” he asked. “They’re good boys.” A steely look came over his face. “Get up.”
10
They walked the sheriff out of the crowded saloon without anyone paying them any mind.
“Where to, Pa?” Thomas asked when they were outside.
“Let’s go to his office,” Shaye said. He prodded the lawman. “Lead the way.”
Torrence led the four Shaye men to his office, which he unlocked.
“No deputies?” Shaye asked him.
“It’s a quiet town.”
They went inside.
“Lock the door, Thomas,” Shaye said.
Matthew removed the sheriff’s gun from his holster and shoved him across the room. The man staggered, banged his hip against his desk and righted himself.
“This ain’t right, Dan,” he said. “You got no jurisdiction, here.”
“See these three boys?” Shaye asked. “They give me all the jurisdiction I need, Sam. They’ll do anything I tell them.”
“You boys are gonna be in trouble if you keep doin’ what your pa is tellin’ you to do,” Torrence warned.
Matthew turned and looked at Shaye. “Can I whomp ’im, Pa?”
“Go ahead, Matthew,” Shaye said. “Whomp him good.”
“Wha—” Torrence said, but Matthew took a step forward and smashed his fist into the man’s face, cutting him off and knocking him back over the desk.
Torrence tried to get to his feet, a smear of blood across his face, as Matthew went around the desk to get him. Matthew hauled him back to his feet and hit him again, this time in the stomach, then straightened him up and hit him in the face again. The lawman went tumbling back and fell over his chair.
As Matthew bent over to pick him up again, Torrence yelled, “Dan, no more. Call ’im off!”
“Matthew,” Shaye said.
But Matthew’s own rage over the death of his mother had the blood roaring in his ears. He couldn’t hear his father as he reached for Torrence and once again pulled him to his feet.
“Matthew!” Shaye shouted, but it did no good. Matthew hit Torrence again, and then again.
“Boys!”
Thomas and James rushed forward to grab their brother’s arms. They succeeded in pulling him off the lawman, who fell to the floor. Matthew was about to shrug them off when Shaye got in his face and shouted, “Matthew! That’s enough!”
He stared at his father, swallowed hard, then said, “I whomped ’im, Pa.”
“You sure did, Matthew,” Shaye said. “You whomped him good. Let go of your brother, boys.”
Thomas and James released Matthew, who stepped away from the fallen sheriff. Shaye turned and crouched over the fallen man, who was bleeding profusely now from cut lips and broken teeth.
“Sam? Can you hear me?”
“Uh—” Torrence said. “Juth keep him away….” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and stared down at the
