Rafe Caradec turned tolvard the jury.
“The witness swore that Bonaro had no gun, yet he just testified that the rifle Bonaro dropped was a Henry. Gentlemen and Miss Rodney, I’m goin’ to ask that you recommend the case be’dismissed and also that Red and Tom Blazer be held in jail to answer charges of perjury!” “What?” Tom Blazer came out of the witness chair with a lunge. “Jail? Me? Why, you-was He leaped, hurling a huge red-haired fist in a roundhouse swing. Rafe Caradec stepped in with a left that smashed Blazer’s lips and then a solid right that sent him crashing to the floor.
He glanced at the judge.
“And that, I think,” he said quietly, “is contempt of court!” Pat Higley got up abruptly. “Gargan, I reckon you better dismiss this case. You haven’t got any evidence or anything that sounds like evidence, and I guess everybody here heard about Caradec facin’ Bonaro down in the store. If he wanted to shoot him, there was his chance.” Gargan swallowed. “Case dismissed!” he said.
He looked up at Bruce Barkow, but the rancher was walking toward Ann Rodney. She glanced at him. Then her eyes lifted, and beyond him she saw Rafe Caradec.
How fine his face was! It was a rugged, strong face. There was character in it and sincerity …. She came to with a start. Bruce was speaking to her.
“Gomer told me he had a case,” Barkow said, “or I’d never have been a party to this. He’s guilty as he can be, but he’s smooth.” Ann looked down at Bruce Barkow, and suddenly his eyes looked different to her than they ever had before.
“He may be guilty of a lot of things,” she said tartly, “but if ever there was a cooked-up, dishonest case, it was this one. And everyone in town knew it!
If I were you, Bruce Barkow, I’d be ashamed of myself!” Abruptly she turned her back on him and started for the door. Yet as she went she glanced up, and for a brief instant her eyes met those of Rafe Caradec, and something within her leaped. Her throat seemed to catch. Head high, she hurried past him into the street. The store seemed a long distance away .
When Bruce Barkow walked into Pod Comer’s office, the sheriff was sitting in his swivel chair.
In the big leather armchair across the room Dan Shute was waiting.
He was a big man, with massive shoulders, powerfully muscled arms, and great hands. A shock of dusky blond hair covered the top of his head, and his eyebrows were the color of corn silk. He looked up as Barkow came in, and when he spoke his voice was rough.
“You sure played hob!” “The man’s smart, that’s all!” Barkow said.
“Next time we’ll have a better case.” “Next time?” Dan Shute lounged back in the big chair, the contempt in his eyes unconcealed.
“There ain’t goin’ to be a next time. You’re through, Barkow . From now on this is my show, and we run it my way. Caradec needs killin’, and we’ll kill him. Also, you’re goin’ to foreclose that mortgage on the Rodney place.
“No”-he held up a hand as Barkow started to speak”…y wait. You was all for pullin’ this slick stuff. Winnin’ the girl, gettin’ the property the easy way, the legal way. To blazes with that! This Caradec is makin’ a monkey of you! You’re not slick! You’re just a country boy playin’ with a real smooth lad!
“To blazes with that smooth stuff! You foreclose on that mortgage and do it plumb quick.
I’ll take care of Mr. Rafe Caradec! With my own hands or guns if necessary. We’ll clean that country down there so slick of his hands and cattle they won’t know what happened!” “That won’t get it,” Barkow protested. “You let me handle this. I’ll take care of things!” Dan Shute looked up at Barkow, his eyes sardonic. “I’ll run this show. You’re takin’ the back seat, Barkow, from now on. All you’ve done is make us out fumblin’ fools! Also,” he added calmly, “I’m takin’ over that girl.” “What?” Barkow whirled, his face livid. In his wildest doubts of Shute, and he had had many of them, this was one thing that had never entered his mind.
“You heard me,” Shute replied. “She’s a neat little lady, and I can make a place for her out to my ranch. You messed up all around, so I’m takin’ over.” Barkow laughed, but his laugh was hollow, with something of fear in it. Always before, Dan Shute had been big, silent, and surly, saying little, but letting Barkow plan and plot and take the lead. Bruce Barkow had always thought of the man as a sort of strong-arm squad to use in a pinch.
Suddenly he was shockingly aware that this big man was completely sure of himself, that he held him, Barkow, in contempt. He would ride roughshod over everything.
“Dan,” Barkow protested, trying to keep his thoughts ordered, “you can’t play with a girl’s affections. She’s in love with me! You can’t do anything about that. You think she’d fall out of love with one man, and-?” Dan Shute grinned. “Who said anything about love? You talk about that all you want.
Talk it to yourself. I want the girl, and I’m goin’ to have her. It doesn’t make any difference who says no, and that goes for Gene Baker, her, or you.” Bruce Barkow stood flat-footed and pale.
Suddenly he felt sick and empty. Here it was, then. He was through. Dan Shute had told him off, and in front of Pod Gomer. Out of the tail of his eye he could see the calm, yet cynical expression on Gomer’s face.
He looked up, and he felt small under the flat, ionic gaze of Shute’s eyes. that., “All right, ban, if that’s the way you feel. I expeg’.we’d better part company.” Shute chuckled, and his voice was rough when he spoke. “No,” he said, “we don’t part company. You sit tight. You’re holdin’ that mortgage, and I want that land. You had a good idea there, Barkow, but you’re too weak-kneed to swing it. I’ll swing it, and maybe if you’re quiet and obey orders, I’ll see you get some of it.” Bruce Barkow glared at Shute. For the first time he knew what hatred was. Here, in a few minutes, he had been destroyed. This story would go the rounds, and before nightfall everyone in town would know that Barkow had been swept aside by Dan Shute, big, slow-talking Dan Shute, with his hard fists and his guns. Crushed, Barkow stared at Shute with hatred livid in his eyes.
“You’ll go too far!” he said viciously.
Shute shrugged. “You can live an’ come out of this with a few dollars,” he said calmly, “or you can die. I’d just as soon kill you, Barkow, as look at you.” He picked up his hat. “We had a nice thing. That shanghaiin’ idea was yours. Why you didn’t shoot him, I’ll never know. If you had, this Caradec would never have run into him at all and would never have come in here, stirrin’ things u . You could have foreclosed that mortgage, and we could to makin’ a deal on that oil now. his “Caradec don’t know anything about that,” Barkow protested. “Like sin he don’t!” Dan Shute sneered. “Caradec’s been watched by my men for days. He’s been wise there was somethin’ in the wind and he’s scouted all over that place. Well, he was down to the knob the other day, and he took a long look at that oil seepage. He’s no fool, Barkow.” Bruce Barkow looked up. “No,” he replied suddenly, “he’s not, and he’s a hand with a gun, too, Dan! He’s a hand with a gun! He took Boyne!” Shute shrugged. “Boyne was nothin’! I could have spanked him with his own gun.
I’ll kill Caradec someday, but first I want to beat him. To beat him with my own hands!” He heaved himself out of the chair and stalked outside.
For an instant, Barkow stared after him. Then his gaze shifted to Pod Comer. The sheriff was absently whittling a small stick. ” — “Well,” he said, “he told you.”
Hard and grim, Barkow’s mouth tightened. So Gomer was in it, too. He started to speak, then hesitated. Like Caradec, Gomer was no fool, and he, too, was a good hand with a gun. Barkow shrugged.
“Dan sees things wrong,” he said. “I’ve still got an ace in the hole.” He looked at Gomer. “I’d like it better if you were on my side.” Pod Gomer shrugged. “I’m with the winner.
My health is good. All I need is more money.” “You think Shute’s the winner?” “Don’t you?” Gomer asked. “He told you plenty, and you took it.” “Yes, I did, because I know I’m no match for him with a gun. Nor for you.” He studied the sheriff” thoughtfully. “This is goin’ to be a nice thing, Pod. It would split well, two ways. his Gomer got up and snapped his knife shut. “You show me the color of some money,” he said, “and Dan Shute out, and we might talk. Also,” he added, “if you mention this to Dan, I’ll call you a liar in the street or in the National. I’ll make you use that gun.” “I won’t talk,” Barkow said. “Only, I’ve been learnin’ a few things. When we get answers to some of the messages you sent, and some I sent, we should know more. Borger wouldn’t let Caradec off that ship willingly after he knew Rodney. I think he deserted. I think we can get something on him for mutiny, and that means hangin’.” “Maybe you can,” Gomer agreed. “You show me you’re holdin’ good cards, and I’ll back you to the limit.” Bruce Barkow walked out on the street and watched Pod Gomer’s retreating back. Gomer, at least, he understood. He knew the man had no use for him, but if he could show evidence that he was to win, then Gomer would be a powerful ally. Judge Gargan would go as Gomer went and would always adopt the less violent means.