Paper Sheriff (11 page)

“You said he was grey,” Reese said and his voice held a quality of granite. “That means you looked at his horse. If you hadn't, all you had to do was say you never say his horse, but you said you saw it and you said it was grey. You're lying, Perry. Why?”

By this time Jim had come up to the corral posts and was listening. Perry looked from Reese to Jim and back again to Reese, and now his face was flushed with both shame and anger.

“All right, goddam it!” he burst out. “I'll tell you. Yes, that's his horse. The reason I lied was because I seen Orville and Buddy Hoad talking with him, standing there by his horse. I figured that some trouble's come up about this horse and that rider. I don't want to tie no Hoad into it, so I lied.”

“Why don't you want to tie a Hoad into it?” Reese asked.

“You got to ask me that?” Perry said angrily. “Hell, you get a Hoad mad at you, anyone of his damn family would kill you. Look at Flowers. You think I want that?” Then he added bitterly, “You're a Hoad yourself by marriage. I want no part of the whole pack of you, even if you're Sheriff.”

Reese looked at Daley now, and Jim avoided his eyes. What was it Jim had said? ‘The Hoads ain't easy to like'.

“Why'd you say there was some trouble about Reston and his horse?”

“If there ain't any, you wouldn't be asking me to tie 'em together, would you?”

“No,” Reese agreed. “Now tell me everything about Reston that happened that morning.”

“I told you,” Perry said shortly, impatiently. “Orville and Buddy come into the bar and asked whose bay that was. I said I didn't know—just some puncher come in, bought a beer and left. They went outside and waited and pretty soon this man come along and mounted up. Then Buddy and Orville talked with him a few minutes. Afterwards they left and like I said, he come in and had two beers. Then he rode off.”

“All right, Perry, back to your booze. And thanks.”

Even Perry's back looked righteously indignant as he headed back through the runway.

Reese and Jim looked at each other, and the older man's face held a faint embarrassment.

“What d'you think of it?” Reese asked him.

Jim shook his head. “Not much. Orville Hoad's got a right to speak to a stranger, just like you and me do. Because Perry's scared of the Hoads don't change that, does it?”

“No,” Reese agreed. “Still, why did Orville and Buddy ask Perry about Reston and then wait for him?”

“Same answer, Reese. They were curious about the brand.”

“Too curious?” Reese asked quietly.

Jim sighed. “I don't know how you judge that.”

Now they left the corral and headed back toward the court-house.

It was Daley then who spoke first. “You think something's happened to Reston, Reese?”

“If he doesn't show up pretty soon, I'll think so.”

“If his horse throwed him, he could have caught another or bought another from one of those spreads out by the brakes. Maybe he figured the hell with it and rode off to catch up with his herd.”

“If you'd met Reston you wouldn't think that,” Reese said dryly.

They parted at the court-house; Daley went inside, and Reese went back to the horse shed and saddled his grey. There was something ominous here, but he couldn't pin it down. Jim had been right when he said that Orville, and by implication Buddy too, had a perfect right to strike up an acquaintance with a stranger. Any stranger passing through Bale could bring news of the outside other world into their isolated one, and he was welcome for his gossip.

He mounted and headed up the back street toward the boarding-house where Jen was working, yet his uneasiness never ceased nagging at him. Why did it have to be Orville and Buddy who were seen talking with Reston? Why did they inquire about the owner of the R-Cross branded horse, and why were they willing to wait until he returned to his horse? That was more than idle curiosity, Reese judged.

He found the boarding-house locked, which meant that Jen had finished, and now he felt a strange relief. He would send Jim Daley to fetch the list for him, for he had other things in mind for the remainder of the afternoon. Back at the court-house he stopped only long enough to ask Jim to pick up the appraisal from Jen and then headed out of town, riding south for an hour in the blazing sun. At Orville Hoad's place he learned from Minnie that Orville and the three boys were out. She thought, but wasn't sure, that they were on a scout for some range in the Wheelers, she told him. Reese left word with her for Orville to drop in the court-house as soon as he could. Closing the sagging wire gate, Reese mounted again, already knowing what he was going to do.

3

He made directly for Ty Hoad's Hatchet Ranch. This, he reflected, was a mean country and the heat made it meaner. The whole range had lost the green of the last rain, and now its tan monotony shivered in the heat. Grazing cattle in the distance seemed to be moving up and down through the heat waves. Even Ty Hoad's barren Hatchet Ranch danced in the distance as he approached it.

Ty's two Mexican hands were at long last doing something about the sagging corral, he noted. As he rode past them he saluted lazily and they returned his greeting with an even lazier wave. He found some shade for his horse on the far side of the shack and left him there. When he rounded the corner of the house he found Buddy standing in the unshaded doorway. His pale hair was rumpled, his eyes puffy. Reese guessed that his coming had roused Buddy from a nap.

“You and Pa are both crazy to be out in this heat,” Buddy greeted him. “He's headed for your place, and you're here. Didn't you meet him?” He stepped aside and Reese entered the mean single room. It was airless and stank of unwashed clothes and fried food. Buddy moved past him, heading for the cot and leaving the lone chair for Reese.

“No, I came from Orville's,” Reese said.

Buddy veered over to a wall shelf and lifted down a crockery jug and Reese knew he was about to receive the invariable Hoad welcome, which consisted of a gagging drink of moonshine.

“Have a drink and set,” Buddy said, as he lifted the jug down. “Pa'll be home before dark.”

Reese slacked into the single straight-backed chair, saying mildly, “It's you I want to see, Buddy.”

Buddy nodded, came over and extended the jug. Reese shook his head and said, “It's too hot for it, Buddy.”

Now Buddy moved to the cot with his jug and sat down and tilted up a drink from it. Watching him, Reese felt a quiet, strong dislike for him, and he wondered guiltily if it was because, except for his size, Buddy was so like Callie in his actions and appearance.

When Buddy caught his breath, he observed, “It must be important as hell, whatever it is you come for, Reese.”

“Not likely. Just information.” Reese tilted his chair back against the wall and fumbled for the pipe and cut plug in his shirt pocket. As he talked now he drew out his knife and cut off a bit of the plug and shredded it in his palms before loading it into his pipe.

“Buddy, you remember Tuesday of last week when you and Orville were in town?”

“Was it Tuesday? I lose track,” Buddy said easily.

“Remember talking to a man in front of the Best Bet, a stranger?”

“Riding an R-Cross branded bay?”

Reese stifled his surprise at Buddy's candid answer. “He's the one,” he said.

“Nice fellow,” Buddy observed.

“How d'you and Orville happen to talk to him?”

“Why, hell, I don't know,” Buddy said carelessly. Then he said, “Yes, I do. Uncle Orv spotted the brand and remembered where it come from.”

“Where was that?”

“I think Uncle Orv said Big Spring—no, Big Island—Texas.”

“How did Orv know that brand?”

Now Buddy leaned forward on the cot, placing his elbows on his knees. He looked at the floor, frowning and it was the first time his glance had left Reese's. Was it evasiveness? Reese wondered.

“Let's see,” Buddy said thoughtfully. “Aunt Amy Bashear's boys make a trip down there a couple of times a year with two or three big wagons. They load 'em with ground sheets and tents and raw canvas. They'll hit these back country cow camps and trade for cows. Uncle Orv went with 'em once, and they travelled that Big Island country. Uncle Orv remembered the R-Cross brand, and he waited to find out from this pilgrim what the news was from down there.”

When Buddy looked up now Reese was lighting his pipe but watching him over the burning match.

“You ride all the way out here to ask me that?” Buddy asked curiously.

“Looks like it.”

“Why?” Buddy asked.

“His horse wandered in Con Fraley's place and Con brought him in. He'd been creased by a bullet.”

Again Buddy's glance slid away, but he made a good attempt at framing a look of puzzlement. Had his face paled a little, Reese wondered. The whisky should have flushed it.

“Well, well,” Buddy said idly. “What d'you make of that?”

“Nothing much—yet,” Reese said. Then he added, “Did he tell you why he was in Bale?”

Buddy frowned and took a long time answering, as if he were trying to remember. “Said his trail herd got stampeded by that last storm, said he was looking for strays.”

That sounded reasonable, Reese thought and asked, “What else did he talk about?”

“The Big Island country mostly. Families that Uncle Orv knew. Didn't mean nothing to me and I didn't really listen.”

Reese observed now that Buddy was sweating. His upper lip was silver with perspiration. Still, it was an inferno in this room, and even though he hadn't had a drink of whisky, Reese felt drenched. “Anything else?” he asked.

“Cattle and horse prices, grass, just what any cowman would talk about.”

Reese's pipe had gone out. He started to reach for a match to relight it and then changed his mind. All he really wanted was to get out of this oven, but he had one more question to ask. “Did he say he'd talked to me?”

Buddy shook his head in negation. (Was it too quickly?) “Not that I recollect.”

With his shoulder Reese pushed his chair away from the wall and in the same motion rose. “Got anything besides whisky to drink, Buddy?” he asked, and then, thinking how superior he sounded, he added, “I'd like a crack at that jug, then a long drink of water.”

Buddy grinned, put a finger in the jug handle and rose, moved over and extended the jug to his brother-in-law. Reese accepted it, took a small drink, put his tongue in the jug mouth and swallowed two more times. After he lowered the jug, he put back the corn cob stob and passed the jug back to Buddy. Then he moved over to the table which held the water pail and drank deeply of the tepid water from the tin dipper. Buddy trailed him to the door and halted there.

“If Pa's with Callie when you get there, tell him to bring some of Callie's bread back with him, Reese.”

“I'll do that, Buddy,” Reese said.

He got his horse, led him over to the scummed water tank by the corral where the two Mexican hands were working, nalled out,
“Como le va?”
Both men answered,
“Bien, Jerife.”

When his horse had drunk enough, Reese mounted and rode out. The sun had heeled far over by now and Reese rode into it, squinting against its full glare. What had Buddy really told him that mattered? Not much, he conceded sourly to himself. Buddy's and Orville's reasons for talking with Reston were reasonable, as was Buddy's account of what had been said. The only thing he hadn't asked Buddy to explain was how the Bashears had come up with a couple of wagon-loads of tents, ground sheets and canvas, but then he knew the answer to that without asking. The Bashears traded moonshine to the supply sergeant down at Fort Tipton in exchange for any supplies the sergeant could steal and cover up for. This all happened outside of Sutton County and was no concern of his.

Now he tried to sum up his observations on the way Buddy acted during their conversation. He could find nothing to flesh out a suspicion. Buddy's reaction to the news of the discovery of Reston's horse was a natural one—moderate surprise, then puzzlement, but not concern.
Why should he show concern?
Reese thought. If what had passed between Orville, Buddy and Reston was as inconsequential as Buddy made out, why should he show concern? Still, Reese had a deep distrust of the Hoads, any Hoad, and he had learned the hard way that they were all consummate actors in their backwoods way.

Why, after Orville Hoad's acquittal and the bitter resentment of all the Hoads toward his part in the trial, was Buddy so friendly this afternoon? A surliness, a to-hell-with-you attitude would have been more in character for Buddy. This afternoon he'd been reasonable when Reese least expected him to be.

This damn family,
he thought grimly. They knew he was their enemy and forgiveness was not in their character. Yet Minnie and Buddy had been civil enough, even friendly and that, too, Reese thought, was passing strange.

He didn't meet Ty Hoad on his way back home. At the Slash Seven he unsaddled and turned out his horse, noting that neither Ty's horse nor the crews' best mounts were here.

A familiar feeling of depression came over him then as he headed toward the house. Would it be tonight that Callie would mention the Hoad Land & Cattle Company? Each night since she had returned from the Bashears he had waited for her to say something.

As he approached the house, Reese saw Callie on her knees before a flower bed that flanked the front door. She looked up and Reese called, “Let's have a drink out here, Callie.”

“All right.” Her voice held an indifference that was unmistakable.

Reese went into the kitchen which the stove, holding their cooking supper, made unbearably hot. He hung his hat on the peg, quickly made their two whiskys and water and stepped outside with the drinks. Callie had abandoned her gardening and was now seated in the old rocker under the big cottonwoods. She was wearing a discarded shirt of his and a pair of his castaway pants, the legs rolled up almost to the knees. For some reason Reese was unable to understand, Callie, since her visit to the Bashears had tried to make herself as unattractive as possible. Her ordinary house dresses were drab enough, but they were preferable to his cast-off clothes. He handed her a drink and then seated himself on the semi-circular bench at the base of the cottonwood. As he leaned back against the rough bark, he noticed her face held a faint suspicion and he wondered what had provoked it.