“Easy, boy,” Shaye said as Thad tried to jump to his feet. “Stay down a minute longer and tell me what happened.”
Thad wiped his face and shook it to get water out of his eyes.
“Gimme a minute.”
Shaye allowed him his minute and during that time noticed that Thad’s gun was still in its holster.
“Two men,” Thad said finally. “I saw them ride in, so I thought I’d check them out.”
“You were told not to brace anyone.”
“I just thought—”
“Tell me what happened.”
“I wanted to question them,” Thad said, “but they wouldn’t answer any questions. They…laughed at me. Didn’t think I was really a deputy. They…beat me up, left me in here, I guess.”
“Can you get up?”
“I…I think so.”
Shaye extended his hand and pulled Thad to his feet. The boy staggered a moment, then caught his balance.
“Find your hat,” Shaye said.
He waited while Thad hunted up his hat, reshaped it, and placed it on his head.
“How do you feel?” Shaye asked.
“Okay.”
“No permanent injury?”
Thad flexed his arms and hands, felt his face.
“No,” Thad said, “just some lumps.”
“Good. Now we can get back to work.”
“Are we gonna arrest them?”
“The men who beat you up? No.”
“What? Why not?”
“Why should we?”
“They beat me up! I’m a deputy.”
“Not for long if you disobey an order again. You were told not to engage any of these men.”
“I just thought—”
“It’s the sheriff’s job to think, Thad,” Shaye said. “It’s your job to follow his orders.”
“So we’re just gonna let them get away with it?”
“If we put them in a cell, they’d be out in no time,” Shaye said. “That’s not how we want them. When they make their move, we have to be ready. And you,” Shaye said, pointing for emphasis, “have to do what you’re told from now on. Understood?”
Thad looked down, shuffled his feet, and said, “Yeah, I understand, Mr. Shaye.”
“Good,” Shaye said, “we’re going back to the office now.”
As they started walking back, Thad asked, “Do you have to tell the sheriff about this?”
“What would you tell him about the bruises on your face? That you fell down? Would you rather he thinks you’re clumsy?”
“No, I guess not.”
A few moments later Thad said, “Mr. Shaye, do you think the sheriff will fire me?”
“For making a mistake?” Shaye asked. “And paying for it with a few lumps? Thad, if you admit to it and learn from it, I don’t think you’ll loose your job over it—unless I read Sheriff Cotton completely wrong.”
“He’s a decent man,” Thad said. “I thought I could learn a lot from him, but now I think I could learn a lot more from you.”
“I may be more experienced than Riley Cotton,” Shaye said, “but there are a lot of things about being a man he can teach you that I can’t.”
“A man?” Thad asked. “Or a lawman?”
“Take your pick, Thad,” Shaye said. “There are a lot of the same qualities in both.”
58
Thad was inside the sheriff’s office when Lou Tanner and Ben Collier rode in.
“What about them?” Cotton asked.
Shaye stared at the two men, who stared straight ahead as they rode by.
“That looks like Lou Tanner,” Shaye said. “He rides with Vic Delay.”
“And the other?”
“Don’t know him.”
By this time James and Thomas had changed places and Thomas was on the roof.
“Where are the other four?” Shaye asked.
“I took a walk while you were waking Thad up,” Cotton said. “Two of them got rooms at the hotel over there.”
“And the other two?”
“Don’t know,” Cotton said. “Not at the same hotel anyway. Now two of them are at Bo Hart’s Saloon—his first customers of the day—and the other two are eating at the café.”
Shaye started to laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“They’re riding in separate and staying in separate places,” Shaye said. “Sounds like a good plan—except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re all using the same livery,” Shaye said. “Anybody could get a count from the liveryman.”
“Charlie Styles.”
They watched the two men ride to the far end of the street and disappear.
“Well, we know one thing, at least,” Shaye said.
“What’s that?”
“Where Lou Tanner is,” he answered, “Vic Delay won’t be far behind.”
“So the next two will be Jeb Collier and Vic Delay.”
“Unless they ride in separate.”
Jeb emptied the remnants of the coffeepot onto the fire and then kicked the rest of it dead.
“We ridin’ in together?” Delay asked.
“I been studying on that,” Jeb said, tossing the coffeepot away instead of packing it. “I think we should go in separate.”
“Why?’
“Because you and me are the only ones somebody might recognize,” Jeb said. “We’ll attract even more attention ridin’ in together.”
“Who goes first?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“Okay, then,” Jeb said. “Me. I thought you might want to get to a hot meal and a drink, but it’s okay with me if you don’t.”
“Forget it, forget it,” Delay said. “I’ll ride in.” He mounted up and looked down at Jeb. “How far behind me will you be?”
“Not far. I’ll finish breakin’ camp.”
Delay nodded and rode off in the direction of town.
Jeb looked around, decided a lot of what was in camp could stay. After they hit the bank, they’d have plenty of money to buy new stuff. As far as sending Delay in ahead of him, he figured once the killer was recognized, it might take the attention away from him. Just one extra reason for having a man like Vic Delay ride along with him.
Jeb figured once he finished his business in Pearl River Junction—the girl and the bank—the only man he’d need would be his brother Ben. Not that he really needed him, but he was his brother. He couldn’t very well sacrifice him the way he would the other men.
The only one he’d have to kill, though, was Delay. Once he realized that Jeb had no intention of sharing the bank money with him, he’d come looking for him for sure. Jeb didn’t want to be looking over his shoulder while he was spending the proceeds of the Pearl River Junction bank job.
59
When Vic Delay rode into town, it was almost three. The outlaws had spread their arrivals out pretty good. Shaye was still in front of the sheriff’s office with Cotton. They weren’t going anywhere until all the men had ridden in.
Thad Hagen was on the roof and James and Thomas were at different ends of the main street, on different sides.
“That’s Delay,” Shaye said to Cotton.
“I could’ve guessed.”
Delay was completely clad in black and was wearing his leather gloves. As he rode past the sheriff’s office, he turned his head and looked at each man in turn.
“Think he recognized you?” Cotton asked.
“No reason why he should,” Shaye said. “I’ve seen him before, but we haven’t met.”
Delay’s face was expressionless and then he turned away, but instead of going to the livery he stopped abruptly in front of the café, as if he’d just noticed it or caught a whiff of the food.
“Stay here,” Shaye said.
“Why?” Cotton asked. “What’re you going to do?”
“I just thought I’d have a talk with Delay,” Shaye said.
“Do you want me to come and watch your back?”