Tom Hunter said, “It’s a damned good idea, and it’s a good way to do it. It’s the right of the thing. I just hope to hell it will work, but I still can’t see them signing this confession.”
Longarm said, “Well, let’s see. Bring them on out. We’ll let them have a look and get their reaction. In fact, I think I’ll let Deputy Hawkins here read it to them. Would you enjoy that, George?”
Hawkins chuckled his dry little sound. He said, “Yeah, I reckon I would enjoy that. After all, that’s lawmen’s work.”
The difference between the two men was clearly obvious. Jake Myers was older, but Archie Barrett showed the effects of his confinement and ill use. It had obviously preyed on his mind. He looked wilted. He looked defeated. The thought crossed Longarm’s mind that perhaps Jake Myers would have to undergo a few days of confinement himself before he could see a reason for signing the confession. He desperately hoped not. If there was any way he could wrap this business up and head back home, he would do it. Nothing he could think of would be more welcome than a train bound for Denver.
They both came in looking sullen and defiant, but there was still plenty of bluster in Jake Myers. Longarm listened to him spout and shout and curse for a moment or two. He turned to Tom Hunter. He said, “Didn’t I see a pair of good heavy leather work gloves around here?”
Hunter nodded. He said, “They’re out here on the back porch.”
“Would you kindly step out and hand them to me?”
“Be glad to.” In a minute, he was back with the heavy rough leather gloves that had gauntlets that reached halfway up the forearms. Longarm took the pair, stepped deliberately over to the front of Jake Myers, and slapped him as hard as he could across the face with the gloves. The blow staggered the old man backward. A little blood came trickling from his lips.
Longarm said, “Now, listen you old bastard, you fucking murdering son of a bitch. You’re here to listen. You keep your mouth shut until you’re asked a question. If you say another word, you’re going to get a lick of these gloves for every word you say. Have I made myself clear?”
Myers looked murderously at him. He said, “Yeah, I heard you.”
Longarm slapped him with the gloves again, harder this time. “Didn’t I tell you that you were going to get a lick for every word you said? You’ve got three more coming, by the way.”
Some of the bluster had gone out of the old man. Now, he looked frightened.
Barrett said, “You’re supposed to be a law officer. You ain’t supposed to be hitting folks.”
Longarm turned a gimlet eye on the man. He said, “Barrett, the same thing holds for you. Do you want a taste of these gloves, maybe with my fist in them?”
Archie Barrett turned his face and looked away.
Longarm went back around the table and sat down. He said, “Now, you two have been brought out here to hear something. I want you to listen to it, and then consider it very seriously.” He turned to George Hawkins. He said, “Deputy Hawkins, would you read that first document? Just read the first one. Read it aloud and read it carefully so these dumb sons of bitches can understand it.”
Longarm studied the two faces of his prisoners as Hawkins read with great delight the confession that Longarm wanted the men to sign. When he was finished, Barrett and Myers both exploded with a volley of curses. The main words they kept yelling over and over were, “Hell, no. Hell, no. We’re not going to sign that damned thing. Do you think we’re crazy?”
Longarm said, “Let’s get something straight right now, gentlemen. You don’t have to sign that confession for me to have your ass. I can take you right outside to that old oak tree and hang you both for the evidence I’ve got on you.”
Barrett said, bluster still in his voice, “You can’t do no such thing.”
Longarm said, “Mister, I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed. There is a law that says that a United States marshal, in the absence of a judge and jury, can take what steps he deems necessary to protect the public welfare. I think the public welfare would be well served by hanging the pair of you.”
He was making it up out of whole cloth, but he doubted that they knew that.
His remark silenced both Barrett and Myers. They glanced at each other, looking worried. The other men in the room exchanged glances.
Longarm said, “But I don’t want to do that. There is another way to handle this matter. As I have told these gentlemen, I am going to try and give y’all a chance to repair the damage you’ve done. Hanging you just gets rid of you. It doesn’t pay back the widows, it doesn’t rebuild the houses and the barns, it doesn’t replace the cattle, and it doesn’t get men back up on their feet that you have knocked down. Deputy, would you read the second document?”
Longarm leaned back in his chair and smoked a cigarillo while George Hawkins read the document about the Grit Settlement Association. When he was through, he could see that it had given Barrett and Myers food for thought, but Myers burst out, “Fifty thousand dollars? That’s highway robbery! I’m not going to give you any fifty thousand dollars, not to save a bunch of tramps and bums. You’re crazy as hell!”
Longarm got up leisurely, picked up the gloves, and slapped the old man in the face again. Now his nose was starting to bleed. He said, “Myers, if you don’t keep a civil tongue in your mouth, you ain’t going to have a piece of skin left on your face.”
He walked back to his chair at the table and sat down. He said, “Now, are you gentlemen willing to sign these documents?”
Archie Barrett said, “I ain’t. I ain’t signing no confession to murder. You must think I’m crazy.”
Myers said, “I ain’t either.”
Longarm nodded his head. He said, “Throw them back in their room, boys. And would y’all please quit being so gentle? You’re just too nice to these fellows.”
As the Goodmans and Tom Hunter were shoving the two prisoners back to the small stone room, George Hawkins looked over at Longarm and cackled his dry laugh. He said, “You’re about half mean, ain’t you, Marshal?”
Longarm said, “That hurts my feelings.”
“What? Calling you mean?”
“Yeah, I don’t like that half part.”
Hawkins cackled again. He said, “I’ve got a feeling, though, this ain’t your regular style.”
Longarm shrugged. “You don’t play every hand of poker the same, do you?”
“No, indeed,” Hawkins said. “Every card is different.”
“Well, these are two of the worst cards I’ve ever run into and I don’t figure anything is too bad for them.”
Hawkins said, “You really think they’re going to sign that confession?”
“If they don’t, they’re going to wish they had, before it’s all over. I’ll take them into custody and I’ll make up evidence if I have to.”
Hawkins looked at him strangely. “You’d do that?”
Longarm took a draw of his cigarillo and blew the smoke into the air. “In this case, yeah. That is, if I don’t have to shoot them escaping. There’s always that chance.”
Hawkins looked at Longarm curiously. He said, “You know, Marshal, I’ve played poker with you and you’re a hard man to figure out if you’re bluffing. Right now, I don’t know if you’re bluffing or not about all this.”
Longarm shrugged again and gave him a smile. He said, “If you can figure out it’s a bluff, then it’s not much of a bluff, now, is it? I always found out the best hand to bluff with was four aces.”