“What are you doin’, mister?” someone asked.
“They won’t be needin’ this money no more,” Knox replied. He took another look around the saloon, then left.
* * *
Duff was at Fiddler’s Green having a drink with Meagan when Knox came in. Shortly after Knox came into the saloon, another man came in and whispered something to one of the patrons. He whispered to another and yet another, so that word spread quickly. It was Biff, himself, who came over to tell Duff.
“That ugly, brutish-looking man just killed two of the Twin Peaks riders,” Biff said, nodding toward the man.
“Has anyone told Sheriff Sharpie?” Meagan asked.
“Apparently not. He’s still walking around,” Biff said.
“Maybe I should walk over to the sheriff’s office and . . .” Meagan started, but she interrupted her sentence when she saw Sheriff Sharpie coming into the saloon.
The sheriff had his pistol in his hand.
“Mister?” he called.
All conversation stopped.
“You talkin’ to me?” the cannonball-headed man replied.
“Yes, I’m talking to you, whatever your name is.”
“It’s Knox. Hard Knox,” he added with a grin.
“I want you to come with me, Mr. Knox,” the sheriff said.
“Why should I do that?”
“Because you are under arrest for the murder of Dooley Carson and Slim Hastings.”
“They drew on me first,” Knox said.
“We’ll let the judge decide that.”
“Duff,” Meagan said in quiet urgency.
“I see it,” Duff replied.
Meagan was referring to the fact that Knox had drawn his pistol and was holding it down by his side, away from the sheriff.
Quietly and unobtrusively Duff drew his British Enfield Mark I revolver and aimed it at the gun Knox was holding. Only Meagan and Biff knew what he was about to do, so when Duff pulled the trigger, everyone in the saloon was surprised.
The most shocked was Knox, who felt the pistol being knocked from his hand, even though his hand wasn’t struck.
“What the hell?” he shouted in a shaken voice.
For just a second, Sheriff Sharpie was as surprised as anyone, until he saw the pistol lying on the floor at Knox’s feet. Glancing toward the sound of the shot he saw Duff holding a smoking pistol.
“Thanks, Duff,” the sheriff said.
Duff nodded in acknowledgment.
* * *
The next morning Brad Houser showed up at the sheriff’s office.
“Sheriff, I have a habeas corpus here, demanding the release of my employee. I also have the sworn statements of fifteen eyewitnesses who say Carson and Hastings drew on Mr. Knox. He shot them in self-defense.”
Sheriff Sharpie examined the papers Houser presented, then shook his head.
“I would have thought you would show more concern for the two men who were killed. After all, they did ride for you.”
“They did work for me, that is true. But yesterday I learned that they had been stealing cattle from me and selling to the small ranchers. Consequently I terminated their employment in absentia and I sent Mr. Knox into town with instructions to turn them over to you for proper adjudication.”
Houser pointed to some of the papers he had presented to the sheriff. “As you can see by the witness accounts, my client . . . that is, my employee, Mr. Knox, made that abundantly clear when he confronted them. All he wanted to do was for them to accompany him, peacefully, here to your office to turn themselves in. But alas, that wasn’t to be. Now they lie dead, the victims of their own misdoings, and Mr. Knox, who was doing naught but following my instructions to turn them over to you, has been incarcerated.
“And now I ask that you turn Mr. Knox over to me.”
The sheriff looked at the assorted papers, then nodded.
“You can have him,” he said.
“Thanks for gettin’ me out,” Knox said on the way back to the ranch.
“That’s all right. You are no good to me in jail. And tonight, I shall have a special assignment for you, Malcolm, and Dobbins.”
* * *
“Hey, Turley,” Cooper, one of the cowboys from Twin Peaks Ranch said. “Did you hear what happened to Slim ’n Dooley?”
“No, but not much they can do would surprise me. What happened, did they get drunk ’n get throwed in jail?”
“No, sir, they got themselves kilt is what happened,” Cooper said.
“What? They’ve been kilt? How did that happen?”
“It was one o’ them new fellers, Knox, that done it.”
“Knox? If they know he done it, how come he ain’t in jail? I seen ’im come ridin’ in with Mr. Houser just a few minutes ago.”
“Yeah, Mr. Houser, what he done was, he got Knox outta jail.”
Later that afternoon, Houser asked Turley to call all the hands together so he could address them. It took only a few minutes to get everyone together, and they stood out in the yard between the bunkhouse and the Big House to listen to what their boss had to say.
“Men, by now you have heard that two of your own number, men who worked for me, were guilty of stealing cattle from this very ranch.”
None of the hands had heard that, and they exchanged questioning looks.
“Dooley Carson and Slim Hastings had been spiriting cows away, at night, and selling them to some of the small ranchers around here. When Mr. Turley informed me of their despicable scheme, I sent Mr. Knox to see them.” At his comment, Houser paused for a moment and pointed to one of the three men standing behind him.
“Mr. Knox approached the two men and told them that I was aware they had been stealing from me, and they drew against him. That was a terrible mistake, for Mr. Knox, who is quite skilled in the employment of the revolver, withdrew his own weapon much more rapidly and engaged the two men. The result of the engagement between the three men was the ultimate death of Mr. Hastings, and Mr. Carson.
“Sudden death is always a sad thing, but in this case it is even worse because these two men, who all of us considered as our friends, brought on their own demise by their precipitate
