Trigger Gospel by Harry Sinclair Drago Page B

“I know if I was the sheriff of this county and I heard gunfire I’d go to the scene of the shootin’ to catch my outlaws instead of tryin’ to cut ’em off somewhere.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t if you was takin’ your orders from them same outlaws,” Little Bill exclaimed.
    â€œNow, Bill,—” Sam started to protest feebly.
    â€œDon’t stall, Sam! You know you’ve been thinkin’ it! All of you have! So why not say it? You know it’s true!”
    â€œNo one’s proved it yet,” Swift argued.
    â€œI’ll come damn close to doin’ it,” Little Bill assured him, “and if I ever find out that he knew they were comin’ in for Pop I’ll drag his dead body through the streets of this town!”
    â€œAnd I’ll help you do it if you ever prove that on him!” said Sam.
    By now Little Bill could see a score of men hurrying toward them.
    â€œI don’t want to talk to these people,” he told Swift. “If you will, Sam, keep ’em out of here. You can tell ’em what’s happened.”
    â€œWhy, sure, Bill. And I’ll be glad to take care of all the funeral arrangements if you’ll let me. We want to pay our respects to Waco in a way that will do him proud.”
    â€œSam, I’ll sure appreciate it,” Little Bill said gratefully. “I’d like to have a word with you if you’ll step inside.”
    Swift removed his hat in respect to the dead as he entered the house.
    â€œSam, Beaudry doesn’t know I’m here,” Bill said as soon as he had closed the door. “I had some trouble with him last night. I know he’s goin’ to get me for it if he can. I’m goin’ to tell yuh what happened.”
    The mayor did not attempt to hide his concern at the tale Little Bill told him.
    â€œNo question but he can make it pretty hot for you, Bill,” he declared soberly. “From what I know of the law, he had a right to take your horse. I appreciate how you felt about it, but that didn’t warrant your openin’ up on him with a rifle—in the eyes of the law I mean. All the rest of it won’t enter into the case.”
    â€œWhat do you think he can do?”
    â€œHe can claim an assault with a deadly weapon with intent to kill. That will mean upwards of five years for you if he makes a jury believe it. I don’t figure he’ll do anythin’ until after the funeral. He knows how folks would take it, and there’s enough feelin’ against him already without that. I’ll speak to him if you say so, but I don’t think it would do any good, bein’ the ornery skunk that he is.”
    â€œI don’t want you to speak to him,” Little Bill said flatly. “I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of lettin’ him think I was lookin’ for an out. I reckon if he didn’t have a reason last night for wantin’ me locked up he’s got one now. If he’s got a lick of sense he must know I won’t quit until I know who handed it to Pop.”
    A wild tattoo of driving hoofs brought him to the window. Six riders were sweeping up the road in a swirl of dust, their horses flecked with foam.
    His first thought was that it was Beaudry and his deputies. He saw now that it was Luther, Chalk and the whole Sawbuck bunch, with the exception of Maverick.
    Chalk had met up with them a short distance out of town, for they had come on ahead of the wagon, anxious to know what was happening to Little Bill. Chalk’s news had brought them into town on a slashing ride.
    The crowd gathered in front of the house scattered hurriedly as they swept into the yard. They were riding the horses Beaudry had left them. They brought them to a slithering stop and slid out of their saddles with an angry flourish.
    Luther looked around for his brother.
    â€œWhere’s Bill?” he jerked out.
    â€œHe’s inside,” two or