The Rider of Golden Bar Part 62

"No," was the truthful reply, "I didn't."

"I was counting on that. I hear you arrested Miss Walton."

"I--er--I had to," explained the district attorney, beginning to feel that, in the matter of Miss Walton, he had perhaps been a trifle hasty.

"Fool mistake. You didn't have any evidence against her a-tall."

"But--" began the district attorney.

Billy cut him short. "No evidence a-tall. Not a smidgin. No. You were too previous, Arthur, with your duty and your oath of office.

d.a.m.n your duty, d.a.m.n your oath of office. I've got a sneaking idea, old settler, that you are cluttering up the face of the earth. Be reasonable now, don't you think so yourself?"

But this was more than the district attorney was willing to admit.

"I'll tell you what I think," he grunted. "I think if Hazel Walton didn't kill Rafe Tuckleton then you did."

"About _Miss_ Walton there ain't any ifs, nary an if. She didn't do it. There is a reasonable doubt that I did, several reasonable doubts, in fact. Anyway, Arthur, try keeping your suspicions to yourself to oblige me, will you? Lord knows one murder and a stage hold-up are enough crimes to be charged with at one time."

"You thought you were very clever," sneered the district attorney, "getting that girl to pack your supplies out from town for you. Didn't have nerve enough to do it yourself. Had to hide behind a woman's skirts and get her in trouble, didn't you?"

"You mean about the horse and cartridges and grub that Slike took from Walton's?"

"I mean about the horse and cartridges and grub that you took from Walton's. Slike had nothing to do with that. Slike didn't go to Walton's. He went north to the West Fork, where we lost his trail."

"You're sure of this?"

"Sure? Of course I'm sure. Didn't I trail him to the river myself.

Didn't-- Say, where'd you get your information?"

"A li'l bird told me. But he asked me not to mention his name. Sorry."

The district stared helplessly into the shadowy features of the man at his bedside. The moonlight shone in at the open window through which Billy had entered. The rays touched a corner of the bed, turning the bedpost to s.h.i.+ny ebony and the counterpane to dull silver. The district attorney could hear the murmur of his housekeeper's voice in the kitchen. Some man then, was in the kitchen with her. Lord! if he dared yell for help!

As though sensing what was pa.s.sing in the mind of the district attorney, Billy jabbed the gunsight up under the man's chin. "Don't gamble with me, Arthur. Think how your friends would miss you."

But Arthur had already decided against doing any gambling. "What do you want?" he whispered.

"I've been hoping you'd ask me that. It gives me an opening and shows you're willing to be reasonable. Yeah. Arthur, I want you to set Miss Walton free."

"You go to h.e.l.l," was the sharp return.

"You don't understand," said Billy, in his lightsome whisper. "You're thinking because I'm talking to you so bright and merry that I don't mean what I say. Listen--" the whisper lost its airness and became a ruthless, snarling growl--"listen to me. Because of what you've done to her, it's all I can do to keep from strangling the breath out of you here and now. If I talked to you the way I feel like talking to you, I'd lose my temper and you'd lose your life. I'm trying to hang on to both--for now. Don't make it any harder for me than you have to." He paused. "About Miss Walton," he continued in his former tone. "I'll give you your choice. Let her go, and I won't down you by Sunday night."

"Huh?"

"Sunday night. If she isn't out of jail and the warrant against her withdrawn by noon to-morrow, I give you my word that I'll down you on or before midnight Sunday. And I have a habit of keeping my promises."

The district attorney knew this to be true. But he was a wriggler by nature. "I--" he began.

"You can do it," interrupted Billy. "You have the power."

"I can't," denied the wretched man in the bed, now more than ever aware that he had made a mistake in arresting Hazel, yet not at all clear in his mind how to set matters right without being ridiculed into political extinction. Yet if he didn't set matters right, he would lose his life. Metaphorically speaking, he eased himself down between the horns of the dilemma and considered. "I can't," he repeated after a moment of silence. "I can't let her go after arresting her. Judge Donelson wouldn't understand it. The Governor would remove me from office."

"You're a liar. Judge Donelson would understand it all right if you explained it carefully. So would the Governor. They are human beings, even if you aren't."

"Well," b.u.mbled the district attorney, "maybe I _could_ manage it. But look here, what's the use of me letting her go? You couldn't run away with her. _You'd_ be caught, sure as fate, and then where would you be?"

"I don't intend to run away with her or without her. Only a fool runs away. A man of sense stays comfortably in the background waiting for the cat to jump."

"You ran away," pointed out the district attorney.

"Not at all. I'm staying comfortably in the background, waiting for the cat to jump."

"But--" The district attorney stopped abruptly at the word.

Billy Wingo smiled. The district attorney saw his white teeth gleam in the darkness. "But you can't understand if I stayed in the vicinity why I haven't been caught," he completed the sentence for the other man. "I realize your posses have been very active."

"Shotgun s.h.i.+llman and Riley Tyler are in league with you! They led the posses astray on purpose. I'll get their hides for this!"

Billy quieted the district attorney with a gesture that drove the man's head almost through the pillow.

"There goes your snap judgment again," complained Billy. "Shotgun and Riley are doing their duty. They've done their d.a.m.ndest to catch me.

You hurt my feelings when you hint that I may be tampering with them.

You don't really think I have, do you, Arthur? Both Shotgun and Riley are straight as strings, aren't they, Arthur?"

The gun muzzle pressed ever so gently upon Arthur's Adam's apple.

"They are," he apologized. "Both of 'em."

"And you'll free the girl to-night?"

"To-night? Why not to-morrow?"

"To-night. I don't like her having to sleep in that calaboose. You let her out and tell Shotgun s.h.i.+llman to take her to Sam Prescott's right away--right away, to-night, y'understand?"

"All right," capitulated the district attorney. "I'll do it if I lose my job. But you needn't go swarmin' off with any idea that you'll cheat the gallows. You'll swing, my bold boy, for that O'Gorman murder. There's nothing you can do to me that will fix up that business for you--not if you were to kill me here and now. Judge Donelson wouldn't allow me to withdraw that warrant, even I wanted to.

The evidence is too strong."

"So you really think I downed Tip?" Billy asked curiously.

"I know it."

"And held up the stage? Unofficially, Arthur, are you holding that against me, too?"

"You held up the stage. Jerry Fern saw your horse. So did all the pa.s.sengers. Your clothes were identified, too. Jerry told the pa.s.sengers to pay particular attention to your clothes and the bra.s.s guard on your gun and be able to describe 'em later. They did, and everbody in town recognized 'em. Oh, we've got you."

"So clever of you--and cleverer of Jerry Fern. He told the pa.s.sengers to remember what I wore, did he?"

"Naturally," said the district attorney hastily. "It was the obvious thing to do."

Billy nodded. "Of course it was. Bright man, Jerry. Tell you, Arthur, suppose I bring back Dan Slike, would that help me in--my trouble?"