The Sheriff of Badger Part 11

"The sheriff of Badger."

"Well, I ain't sorry. I'll go along," was the reply.

On the morning of the second day, another coroner's inquest sat in Badger. Slim Terry faced it. A greenish pallor showed near his eyes and around the corners of his mouth, but he talked composedly.

Coroner.--"Did you shoot Bud Walton?"

"Yes."

"Tell us about it."

The prisoner pa.s.sed a hand over his forehead and down to his chin, as though to clear his thoughts.

"This feller Walton, judge, he done run me out of Badger. First, though, he run me out of the Fas.h.i.+on. I ain't been in this town for six months till the day of the shooting. Yes, I was scared of him. I ain't a fighter, gen'l'men. I come in that day, because somebody done sent for me."

Coroner.--"Who sent for you?"

Slim pondered this question. "I ain't a-going to tell that," he said.

"Well, I laid quiet at ol' Raphael's place on the aidge of town until dark, and then I sneaked up back of the Fas.h.i.+on. n.o.body seen me.

Somebody'd told me Bud Walton would likely do for Thomas there that night, and I figured to get him from that back hall in the mixup. One of us was sure to nail him."

"Who told you this?"

"I ain't a-going to tell. I've said that twice already, Mr. Turner, so you needn't ask me. Well, I waited in the hall there, standing mighty quiet. I seen Thomas at the table and a fat gen'l'man over near the window with the sheriff here. I didn't know he was the sheriff then. By and by a boy come in and the sheriff went out. Then all at once Bud Walton run in at the door and pulled a gun. And then I let him have it.

I plugged him square. Couldn't miss at that distance. What'd you say, judge? No; n.o.body seen me. I run out into the lot back of the Fas.h.i.+on and got on my horse. I've been at the Kingdom most of the time since, but I wasn't trying to hide out. How did you find out, Mr. Johnson?"

The audience in the court-room listened to this recital with scant sympathy. Their disapproval was obvious. Even the sheriff appeared a trifle ashamed of his prisoner.

"Did you have any other reason, Terry, for shooting this man?" asked the coroner.

"No, sir. He done run me off, and I was afraid he would kill me some day, the same as he'd done to a lot of others. So I plugged him--there in the Fas.h.i.+on."

"It's a lie. He's lying, judge," cried a treble voice at the door.

The crowd wavered and split apart, and a woman broke through and confronted the coroner. It was Tilly, the waitress at the annex. Her hair was disordered and hung in lank wisps about her face, but she gave no thought to that. With her red arms bare to the elbow, and her cheeks flabby and pale from fright, she took position squarely in front of Turner. She tried to speak, but gasped for breath.

CHAPTER XI

A WAITRESS TO THE RESCUE

"Order in the court!" shouted the coroner.

"That man there--him, Slim Terry--he's lying to you, judge. Yes. He is.

He's lying. He didn't kill Bud. He's lying, judge. He is; honest."

"Who killed him then?" said the coroner. The sheriff walked over and stood beside the girl.

"I did. I shot him. I--"

"Tilly, you're crazy. Stop her, sheriff. She ain't telling the truth.

She's--" The prisoner made to shove her back.

"Order in the court!" Turner roared.

"Listen to me. I'm going to tell you. Yes, I am. I'm going to tell."

"Silence, gentlemen. Let's hear what she's got to say," the sheriff ordered.

"I knew Bud Walton was coming to the Fas.h.i.+on that night to look for Jeff Thomas." Tilly told her story gustfully, her voice shrill. "Yes, I knew it. I told Jeff so. Why shouldn't I? Bud told me. He'd been drinking the night before. That man sitting there was my fellow. He came to see me that afternoon, and I had to hide him in ol' Raphael's house like any dog. All because of Bud Walton. Yes."

"Go on. Quiet, please."

"Slim, he wanted to shoot Bud himself. So would you, judge, if you knew.

But I said no. Do you know why he wanted to shoot? I'll tell you. Bud Walton was bad. Yes. He was. He was a bad man. He asked me to marry him, and when I laughed, he said he'd take me anyhow. Yes. That is what he said. He was bad. And I got afraid. He done run Slim out of town last year and there was n.o.body--oh, don't let 'em all stare at me that way, judge. I'm telling the truth. Before G.o.d, I am."

"Go on," said Turner huskily.

"I was in the hall with Slim. I let him in at the door. Yes, I did. It was locked. We had a rifle and we stood there. I had often shot at prairie-dogs with the rifle when me and Slim would go riding together.

Slim, he couldn't never hit a barn door. No wonder he was scared of Bud.

It's true--true as gospel, judge. He couldn't have killed him. No. I made him put both hands against the wall and then I rested the gun on his shoulder. Yes. I did. Bud Walton was bad. He was a bad man. When I saw him, I pulled quick. And then I shut my eyes. And then--I don't rightly remember after that. That's the truth. It's all true, every word. Yes. It is. Slim, he went away--and now--oh, oh, oh."

She rocked on her feet, her hands over her eyes.

"Order in the court! Order in the court!" the coroner bawled, though you could have heard a man gulp.

The sheriff took Tilly by the arm and led her away. He permitted Slim to come with them.

"Gen'l'men," said Turner, clearing his throat as he rose from his chair, "this court stands adjourned. Bud, he just died. That's good enough for him."

The next morning the sheriff called on Tilly at the Fas.h.i.+on and told her to don her best bib and tucker with all speed.

"I'd a heap rather go to this here Slim party's funeral, Tilly," he said, "but I suppose you've got to have him. So get a move on. I reckon Badger can stake you to a wedding."

Naught cared Tilly for this genial slight on her lover. She had him--that was sufficient for her. A woman does not need to respect a man in order to love him devotedly. Moist of face, but radiant, she presented herself before Lafe within an hour.

And to what a wedding did Badger stake the waitress! The entire town seemed to regard it as a public event in which every citizen had a personal interest and a duty to perform; and they did it n.o.bly. Tilly was deluged with gifts, ranging from a Book of Common Prayer to a heifer calf, which the donor a.s.sured her would one day develop into a fine milch cow and feed all the little Terrys.

Lafe took upon himself the conduct of the proceedings. And in the course of them he became so wrought up that he made a speech, a faculty for which had hitherto been unsuspected in the sheriff. He started off by saying it would not be much of a speech, and he was correct. Yet such was his fervor that Tilly cried for the fifth time that day, and her husband gulped until his Adam's apple threatened to jump out of his throat, as he gripped Johnson's hand.

A strict adherence to facts compels the admission that there was a very considerable consumption of liquor on this day. You see, nothing is ever consummated in Badger, from a sale of steers or a horse trade, to a wedding in the season, without a certain indulgence of this nature.

For, in the course of human events and in pursuit of that liberty and happiness which const.i.tute the inalienable right of every citizen, a man is apt, from time to time, to get drunk. n.o.body in Badger ever held it against him--far from it. Let that then be the excuse for sundry estimable gentlemen who felt badly the morning after Tilly's marriage.

Let that explain the presence of the justice of the peace and the sheriff of Badger and Dr. Armstrong, when they foregathered in the Fas.h.i.+on before breakfast, to compare symptoms and to contrive means by which they might last through another sun. Indeed, convivial relaxation was regarded in Badger as incidental to male existence, however rarely these "benders," as they were termed in local parlance, might be tempered by discretion.

Yet there have always been certain unwritten rules governing bouts with Care, and if a man broke them in Badger, he became either a social outcast or an inmate of the calaboose, which was worse. The calaboose was once a livery stable and has never entirely got over it.