men the don had sent to help us with the adobe bricks. Then I told her about Tom
Sunday and Orrin, and she listened thoughtfully. All the Mexicans were
interested in the selection of the marshal, for it was of great importance to
them. His authority would be local, but there was a chance he could move into
the sheriff’s job and in any case, the selection of a man would mean a lot to
the Mexicans who traded in Mora and who lived there, as many did.
What I was saying wasn’t at all what I wanted to say, and I searched for the
words I wanted and they would not come. “Dru,” I said suddenly, “I wish—”
She waited but all I could do was get red in the face and look at my hands.
Finally, I got up, angry with myself. “I’ve got to be going,” I said, “only—”
“Yes?”
“Can I come back? I mean, can I come to see you often?”
She looked straight into my eyes. “Yes, you can, Tye. I wish you would.”
When I rode away I was mad with myself for saying nothing more. This was the
girl I wanted. I was no hand with women but most likely Drusilla considered me a
man who knew a lot about women, and figured if I had anything to say, that I’d
say it.
She had a right to think that, for a man who won’t speak his mind at a time like
that is no man at all. More than likely she would think I just didn’t want to
say anything. If she thought of me that way at all.
That was a gloomy ride home, and had anybody been laying for me that night I’d
have been shot dead I was that preoccupied. When I rode up to the house I saw
Ollie’s horse tied outside.
Ollie was there, along with a man who operated a supply store in Mora. His name
was Wilson. “The time is now, Orrin. You’ve got to come in and stay in town a
few days. Charley Smith and that sandy-haired man who was with him have done a
lot to rile folks around town, and they were mighty impressed the way Tyrel
handled them.”
“That was Tyrel, not me.”
“They know that, but they say you’re two of a kind. Only,” … Ollie looked
apologetically at me, “they don’t figure you’re as mean as your brother. I mean
they like what happened out here, only they don’t hold with killing.”
Orrin glanced at him. “There wasn’t another thing Tyrel could have done, and
mighty few who could have done what he did.”
“I know that, and you know it. The fact remains that these folks want law
enforced against killers but without killing. The Mexicans … they understand
the situation better than the Americans. They know that when a man takes a
weapon in hand he isn’t going to put it down if you hand him a bunch of roses.
Men of violence only understand violence, most times.”
Orrin rode into town and for two days I stayed by the place, working around. I
cleared rocks using a couple of mules and a stone boat. I dragged the rocks off
and piled them where they could be used later in building a stable. Next day I
rode into town, and it looked like I’d timed things dead right. There was quite
a bunch gathered outside the store Ollie was running and Ollie was on the porch,
and for the first time since he came out here he had a gun where you could see
it.
“It’s getting so a decent person can’t live in this country,” he was saying.
“What we need is a town marshal that will send these folks packing. Somebody we
can trust to do the right thing.”
He paused, and there were murmurs of agreement. “Seems to me this could be a
fine, decent place to live. Most of the riffraff that cause the trouble came
from Las Vegas.”
Across the way on the benches I could see some of the Settlement crowd loafing
and watching. They weren’t worried none, it seemed like it was a laughing matter
with them for they’d played top dog so long, here and elsewhere.
I went on into the saloon, and Tom Sunday was there. He glanced at me, looking
sour. “I’ll buy a drink,” I suggested. “And I’ll take it.”
He downed the one he had and the bartender filled our glasses for us.
“You Sacketts gang up on a man,” Tom declared. “Orrin’s got half the town
working for him. Take that Ollie Shaddock. I thought he was a friend of mine.”
“He is, Tom. He likes you. Only Ollie’s sort of a cousin of ours and came from
the same county back in the mountains. Ollie’s been in politics all his life,
Tom, and he’s been wanting Orrin to have a try at it.”
Tom said nothing for a little while, and then he said, “If a man is going to get
any place in politics he has to have education. This won’t help Orrin a bit.”
“He’s been studying, Tom.”
“Like that fool Pritts girl. All she could see was Orrin. She never even looked
at you or me.”
“Womenfolks pay me no mind, Tom.”
“They sure gave you all their attention in Santa Fe.”
“That was different.” He needed cheering up, so for the first time I told him—or
anybody—of what happened that day. He grinned in spite of himself.
“No wonder. Why, that story would have been all over town within an hour.” He
chuckled. “Orrin was quite put out.”
He tossed off his drink. “Well, if he can make it, more power to him.”
“No matter what, Tom,” I said, “the four of us should stick together.”
He shot me a hard glance and said, “I always liked you, Tye, from the first day
you rode up to the outfit. And from that day I knew you were poison mean in a
difficulty.”
He filled his glass. I wanted to tell him to quit but he was not a man to take
advice and particularly from a younger man.
“Why don’t you ride back with me?” I suggested. “Cap should be out there, and we
could talk it up a little.”
“What are you trying to do? Get me out of town so Orrin will have a clear
field?”
Maybe I got a little red around the ears. I hadn’t thought anything of the kind.
“Tom, yuu know better than that. Only if you want that job, you’d better lay off
the whiskey.”
“When I want your advice,” he said coolly, “I’ll ask for it.”
“If you feel like it,” I said, “ride out. I’m taking Ma out today.”
He glanced at me and then he said, “Give her my best regards, Tye. Tell her I
hope she will be happy there.” And he meant it, too.
Tom was a proud man, but a gentleman, and a hard one to figure. I watched him
standing there by the bar and remembered the nights around the campfire when he
used to recite poetry and tell us stories from the works of Homer. It gave me a
lost and lonely feeling to see trouble building between us, but pride and
whiskey are a bad combination, and I figured it was the realization that he
might not get the marshal’s job that was bothering him.
“Come out, Tom, Ma will want to see you. We’ve talked of you so much.”
He turned abruptly and walked out the door, leaving me standing there. On the
porch he paused. Some of the settlement gang were gathered around, maybe six or
eight of them, the Durango Kid and Billy Mullin right out in front. And the
Durango Kid sort of figured himself as a gunman.
More than anything I wanted Tom Sunday to go home and sleep it off or to ride
out to our place. I knew he was on edge, in a surly mood, and Tom could be hard
to get along with.
Funny thing. Ollie had worked hard to prepare the ground work all right, and
Orrin had a taking way with people, and the gift of blarney if a man ever had
it. It was a funny thing that with all of that, it was Tom Sunday who elected
Orrin to the marshal’s job.
He did it that day there in the street. He did it right then, walking out of
that door onto the porch. He was a proud and angry man, and he had a few drinks
under him, and he walked right out of the door and faced the Durango Kid.
It might have been anybody. Most folks would have avoided him when he was like
that, but the Kid was hunting notches for his gun. He was a lean,
narrow-shouldered man of twenty-one who had a reputation for having killed three