The sheriff wished me a good Sunday, and I drove on home. I fixed myself a big platter of ham and eggs and French fries, and carried it into Dad's office. I ate at his desk, more at peace with myself than I'd been in a long time.
I'd made up my mind about one thing. Come hell or high water, I wasn't going to marry Amy Stanton. I'd been holding off on her account; I didn't feel I had the right to marry her. Now, though, I just wasn't going to do it. If I had to marry someone, it wouldn't be a bossy little gal with a tongue like barbed-wire and a mind about as narrow.
I carried my dishes into the kitchen, washed them up and took a long hot bath. Then I turned in and slept like a log until ten in the morning. While I was having breakfast, I heard gravel crunch in the driveway; and looking out I saw Chester Conway's Cadillac.
He came right in the house without knocking-people had got in the habit of that when Dad was practicing- and back into the kitchen.
"Keep your seat, boy, keep your seat," he said, though I hadn't made any move to get up. "Go right on with your breakfast."
"Thanks," I said.
He sat down, craning his neck so that he could look at the food on my plate. "Is that coffee fresh? I think I'll have some. Hop up and get me a cup, will you?"
"Yes, sir," I drawled. "Right away, Mr. Conway, sir."
That didn't faze him, of course; that was the kind of talk he felt he was entitled to. He took a noisy swill of coffee, then another. The third time he gulped the cup was emptied. He said he wouldn't take any more, without my offering him any, and lighted a cigar. He dropped the match on the floor, puffed and dusted ashes into his cup.
West Texans as a whole are a pretty high-handed lot, but they don't walk on a man if he stands up; they're quick to respect the other fellow's rights. Chester Conway was an exception. Conway had been the big man in town before the oil boom. He'd always been able to deal with others on his own terms. He'd gone without opposition for so many years that, by this time, he hardly knew it when he saw it. I believe I could have cussed him out in church and he wouldn't have turned a hair. He'd just have figured his ears were playing tricks on him.
It had never been hard for me to believe he'd arranged Mike's murder. The fact that he did it would automatically make it all right.
"Well," he said, dusting ashes all over the table. "Got everything fixed for tonight, have you? No chance of any slip-ups? You'll wind this thing right on up so it'll stay wound?"
"I'm not doing anything," I said. "I've done all I'm going to."
"Don't think we'd better leave it that way, Lou. 'Member I told you I didn't like the idea? Well, I still don't. That damned crazy Elmer sees her again no telling what'll happen. You take the money yourself, boy. I've got it all ready, ten thousand in small bills, and-"
"No," I said.
"— pay her off. Then bust her around a little, and run her across the county line."
"Mr. Conway," I said.
"That's the way to do it," he chuckled, his big pale jowls jouncing. "Pay her, bust her and chase her… You say something?"
I went through it again, real slowly, dealing it out a word at a time. Miss Lakeland insisted on seeing Elmer one more time before she left. She insisted on his bringing the dough, and she didn't want any witnesses along. Those were her terms, and if Conway wanted her to leave quietly he'd have to meet 'em. We could have her pinched, of course, but she was bound to talk if we did and it wouldn't be pretty talk.
Conway nodded irritably. "Understand all that. Can't have a lot of dirty publicity. But I don't see-"
"I'll tell you what you don't see, Mr. Conway," I said. "You don't see that you've got a hell of a lot of gall."
"Huh?" His mouth dropped open. "Wha-at?"
"I'm sorry," I said. "Stop and think a minute. How would it look if it got around that an officer of the law had made a blackmail payoff-that is, if she was willing to accept it from me? How do you think I feel being mixed up in a dirty affair of this kind? Now, Elmer got into this trouble and he came to me-"
"Only smart thing he ever did."
"— and I came to you. And you asked me to see what could be done about getting her out of town quietly. I did it. That's all I'm going to do. I don't see how you can ask me to do anything more."
"Well, uh"-he cleared his throat-"maybe not, boy. Reckon you're right. But you will see that she leaves after she gets the money?"
"I'll see to that," I said. "If she's not gone within an hour, I'll move her along myself."
He got up, fidgeting around nervously, so I walked him to the door to get rid of him. I couldn't take him much longer. It would have been bad enough if I hadn't known what he'd done to Mike.
I kept my hands in my pockets, pretending like I didn't see him when he started to shake hands. He opened the screen, then hesitated a moment.
"Better not go off anywhere," he said. "I'm sending Elmer over as soon as I can locate him. Want you to give him a good talking-to; see that he's got everything down straight. Make him know what's what, understand?"
"Yes, sir," I said. "It's mighty nice of you to let me talk to him."
"That's all right. No trouble at all," he said; and the screen slammed behind him.
A couple hours later Elmer showed up.
He was big and flabby-looking like his old man, and he tried to be as overbearing but he didn't quite have the guts for it. Some of our Central City boys had flattened him a few times, and it had done him a world of good. His blotched face was glistening with sweat; his breath would have tested a hundred and eighty proof.
"Getting started pretty early in the day, aren't you?" I said.
"So what?"
"Not a thing," I said. "I've tried to do you a favor. If you ball it up, it's your headache."
He grunted and crossed his legs. "I dunno, Lou," he frowned. "Dunno about all this. What if the old man never cools off? What'll me and Joyce do when the ten thousand runs out?"
"Well, Elmer," I said. "I guess there's some misunderstanding. I understood that you were sure your father would come around in time. If that isn't the case, maybe I'd better tell Miss Lakeland and-"
"No, Lou! Don't do that!.. Hell, he'll get over it. He always gets over the things I do. But-"
"Why don't you do this?" I said. "Don't let your ten thousand run out. Buy you some kind of business; you and Joyce can run it together. When it's going good, get in touch with your Dad. He'll see that you've made a darned smart move, and you won't have any trouble squaring things."
Elmer brightened a little-doggoned little. Working wasn't Elmer's idea of a good solution to any problem.
"Don't let me talk you into it," I said. "I think Miss Lakeland has been mighty badly misjudged-she convinced me and I'm not easy to convince. I've stuck my neck out a mile to give you and her a fresh start together, but if you don't want to go-"
"Why'd you do it, Lou? Why'd you do all this for me and her?"
"Maybe money," I said, smiling. "I don't make very much. Maybe I figured you'd do something for me in a money way."
His face turned a few shades redder. "Well… I could give you a little something out of the ten thousand, I guess."
"Oh, I wouldn't take any of that!" You're damned right I wouldn't. "I figured a man like you must have a little dough of his own. What do you do for your cigarettes and gas and whiskey? Does your Dad buy 'em for you?"