'I do hope you are right, Mary.'
In time, after Earl paced and Mary sat dumbly, a law officer approached, as if skulking. He wore a deputy's badge and had the look of the kind of old cop who sat in offices all day long.
'Are you the man that brought the Negro doctor?'
'Yes, I am,' said Earl.
'You're not from around here, are you?'
'I grew up down in Polk County.'
'Then you know this is not how we do things. We keep white and nigger separated. We have laws about it. I have to arrest you and the Negro doctor.'
'I think you'd best go on home, old man,' said Earl. 'I do not have time for all this.'
'Mr.??'
'Swagger. Earl Swagger.'
'Mr. Swagger, this is a great principle we are defending. It's bigger than your wife and your baby. We have the future of the nation at stake here.'
'Deputy, possibly you know of my father, Charles Swagger? He was a man who done what he said he would do. He was famous for it. Well, sir, I am that kind of man only more so. So when I say to you, go away, go far away, then you'd best obey me or there will be hell for lunch.'
The sheriff slunk away.
But he paused at the door.
'Your beefiness may work with an old man like me, Swagger, when all the deputies are out hunting Owney Maddox. But there are some boys at the end of the street getting liquored up who will take a different view.'
Til deal with them when they come. If they have the guts. And don't you worry none about Owney Maddox. That bill was settled.'
Another half hour passed. Mary sat, now hugging herself. Earl walked back and forth, smoking, like a man in a Saturday Evening Post cartoon. He kept glancing at his watch, kept looking at the door, kept trying to calm himself down. He was so desperately exhausted he could hardly think straight, but he was in that keyed up state where he couldn't sleep either. He was just a raw mess.
At last the door opened, but it wasn't a doctor. It was a janitor, a black man.
'Sir,' he said.
'Yes, what is it, Pop?' Earl asked.
'They's coming. A mob. Seen it before. It happens onct a while. They done got to set things back die way they was and when they do that, some boy's got to swing or bum.'
'Not this time, Pop. You can bet on it.'
He turned to Mary.
'I'll take care of this.'
'Mr. Swagger, I?'
'Don't you worry none. I faced Japs. These boys ain't Japs. But just in case, I want you down on the floor. If some lead sails through, you don't want to catch a cold from it.'
Earl walked out onto a porch.
He watched them come. The old man was right-There were about fifty of them, and from the groggy, angry progress, he could tell there had been much liquor consumed. The mob spilled this way and that, and shouts and curses came from it. He watched as supposedly decent people stepped aside, or stood back in horror, but he noted too that nobody stood up to these boys, nobody at all.
It was now four o'clock in the afternoon. He'd lost most sense of time and wasn't sure how long he'd been here, how long they'd been drinking, how mad they were. The sim was low in the western sky, and flame-colored. The mountains were silhouettes. A wind blew, and the leaves on the trees all shimmered.
On the boys came. He saw shotguns, a few rifles, a few squirrel guns, hoes, shovels, picks. They'd grabbed everything they could fight with. They were killing mad.
The leader was a heavyset man in overalls with a battered fedora and the hardscrabbled face of a fellow life hadn't treated kindly. His compatriots were equally rough, men who'd been purged of pity by bad breaks, brushes with the law, beatings from bigger men, and a sense of lost possibility. They looked like a ragtag Confederate infantry regiment moving out agin the bluebellies at some Pea Ridge or other. Earl had known them his whole life.
Earl watched them come, standing straight. His hat was low over his dark and baleful eyes. His gray suit was dusty and rumpled but not without some dignity to it. His tie was tight to his throat and trim. He calmly smoked a Chesterfield, cupping it in his big hands.
Finally they were there, and only his imperturbability stood between him and the doctors and his wife.
'You the feller brought that nigger here?'
'I brought a doctor here, boys. Didn't stop to notice his color.'
'We don't 'low no niggers in this end of town. Bad business.'
'Today, that changes. I'm here to change it.'
In the crowd faces turned to faces and low, guttural exchanges passed electrically among them. Like an animal they seemed to coil and gather strength.
Finally, the leader took a step forward.
'Mister, we'll string you up next to that coon in a whisker if that's what you want. Now you stand aside while we take care of business, or by God this'll be the day you die.'
'Boys, there's been lots of days when I could die. If this is the one at last, then let's get to it.'
He flicked aside the cigarette, and with a quick move peeled off his coat.
He had a.45 cocked and locked in the shoulder holster that Herman Kreutzer had been wearing, another.45 cocked and locked in the speed holster on his hip that Johnny Spanish had been wearing and a third stuffed into his belt backward to the left of his belt buckle. His shirt pocket was stuffed with three or four magazines.
'I can draw and kill seven of you in the first two seconds. In the next two seconds I'll kill seven more. In the final two seconds, I'll get the third seven. Now if some of you boys in the back get a shot into me, you'd best make it count, 'cause if it only wounds me, I may get a reload or two in, and each time I reload that means seven more of you boys are going down. So I figure a sure twenty-one of you are dead, and probably more like twenty-eight or even thirty-five.'
He paused. He smiled. His hand fell close to the gun on his hip, and there wasn't a lick of fear in him.
'Well, boys, what do you say? Are we going to do some man's work today? You will be remembered, I guarantee you that. You will go into history, you can bet on it. Come on, Fat Boy, you're up front. Is this the day you picked to get famous?'
The fat man swallowed.
'Ain't so much fun when somebody else has the gun, is it, Fat Boy?'
The fat man swallowed again, looked back to his mob and saw that it was leaking men from the rear. It seemed to be dissolving.
Suddenly he and four or five others were alone.
'Fat Boy, I am tired of standing here. You make your play or I just may shoot you so I can sit a spell.'
The others left and the Fat Boy was alone. A large stain spread across his crotch as his bladder yielded to stress. But he didn't blink or swallow. He peered ahead intently at nothing.
Earl walked down to him.
He reached into his back pocket. The man stood stock-still, quivering.
Earl took out his wallet, opened it.
'I see your name is Willis Beaudine. Well, Willis, here's something for you to remember. If anything ever happens to that good doctor in there, it's you I'll come visit in the night. And Willis Beaudine, don't think you can run and hide. Many a man has thought that and they are now sucking bitter grass from the root end.'
He dropped the wallet down Willis's overalls.
'Now scoot,Willis.'
Willis turned and in seconds disappeared. Odd a fat man could move so fast.
Earl picked up his coat, threw it over his shoulder and walked back into the hospital waiting room.
Dr. James was waiting, along with Mary.
