LeRoy, U.S. Marshal 3

by Neil Hunter

  Landiss looked after itself as a great many Western communities did. Bernie Statler was the law in town. He’d spent a large portion of his adult life wearing a badge and Landiss was his current, most likely last, appointment. He made the best of the job. It didn’t amount to much. Statler didn’t complain. He was in early middle age and figured whatever Landiss offered would be his last stand. So, he made the best of the situation.

  When he returned from his walk around town, flush faced and looking decidedly concerned. He crossed to the water-cask set against the office’s coolest wall and dipped himself a tin cup of the contents.

  ‘Getting hotter out there,’ he said, ‘and it ain’t all to do with the weather.’

  LeRoy faced him. ‘Trouble?’

  ‘Winding up to it. See, Daniel Lawrence was a popular young feller around town. Damned pleasant individual. He could have played on his older brother’s reputation. Only he didn’t. Had friends and they’ve took real offence at what happened to him. I been pickin’ up rumors. Bar talk about maybe doing something about Teague and Hobbs.’

  ‘You think this talk could be serious, or is it just bar talk?’

  ‘Hard to figure. Man can work himself up real tight with the liquor inside him and next mornin’ it’s faded.’

  LeRoy could understand that reasoning. In the collective atmosphere of a busy saloon, with drinks flowing, a man could talk himself up to an aggressive mood. In the cold light of a morning the dull ache left over from the previous night most often took away the belligerent mood. Most times but LeRoy knew enough to understand that might not always be the case.

  ‘I need to check the horses,’ LeRoy said.

  ‘Sweeney should have them ready for you by noon,’ Statler said. ‘LeRoy, you heard what I said about the unrest?’

  ‘I heard. Keep my eyes and ears open, Bernie, don’t you fret.’

  ‘Wasn’t tryin’ to tell you your job.’

  ‘Grateful for the thought.’

  Statler nodded.

  ‘Keep an eye on my gear. Be back shortly.’

  ‘You decided when you might be leavin’?’

  ‘Still working on that,’ LeRoy said.

  Statler watched him head up the street. He had known LeRoy a good few years, from other towns where Statler had worn a badge, and there were times he though he understood the man as well as any. Then other times he wasn’t so sure.

  The only thing he did know for certain was LeRoy’s stubborn, almost reclusive, nature. He thought about it then let it go. It was too damned hot to overtax his brain. He took another cup of water and sat down behind his desk, idly watching Carrick moving the dust around the floor.

  He and LeRoy had worked out how he would travel, and where possible, keeping it to themselves – not exactly but they weren’t aware of that at the time. That error would show itself later. By the time matters showed themselves it would be too late to back away.

  Five

  LeRoy took his stroll and walked to the livery. He had rented a couple of horses for Teague and Hobbs. Nothing too fancy. Just a couple of hardy mounts that would stand a long ride across rough terrain. He told the stableman to have the horses saddled and ready and paid over the money he owed.

  On his way back to the jail he took quiet note of the stares he got from the people on the street. Even the women. It was most likely an unusual happening for a US Marshal to show up in Landiss. The Marshal service was stretched at the best of times, with the small number of appointed lawmen always in demand, so for one to appear in Landiss meant there was something out of the ordinary happening. It had to be known that Teague and Hobbs were sitting in the jail following their trial. And their movement to Yuma wouldn’t have been missed. Which left Alvin LeRoy the center of attention. It didn’t especially bother him. LeRoy just hoped the scrutiny was simply from curiosity.

  He was aware that there might be those watching him who might have underlying interest in his presence. He recalled Statler mentioning possible problems from friends of Daniel Machin. Someone might make a move against Teague and Hobbs out of misguided loyalty. An attack that could end up with tragic results. Once the convicted men were handed over to LeRoy, they became his responsibility. His alone and LeRoy would resist any form of retribution against his prisoners. He had enough on his mind concerning his charges. Outside interference was something he could do without, yet he knew matters could be taken out of his hands by someone’s impulsive behavior.

  He drew level with the town’s largest saloon. The Crystal Palace, mentioned by Statler, was a surprisingly large and ornate establishment. LeRoy decided that a cool beer was in order. The dry Arizona climate encouraged a man to slake his thirst and, in that respect, LeRoy was no different. A few minutes relaxation wouldn’t go amiss. Once he left Landiss everything would change. Nothing unusual there but it would separate him from any contact with normality. His only companions would be Teague and Hobbs and they would need watching close. Neither of them was about to do anything to make the trip easy. They would take any opportunity to reverse roles with LeRoy. He didn’t allow himself to think differently. The pair in his charge were not going to relish their incarceration at Yuma and they would seize any chance to change the situation.

  LeRoy decided a brief respite from his responsibilities was in order. Once he left Landiss there wouldn’t be any chance of taking things easy.

  Six

  He stepped up and crossed the boardwalk, easing his way through the batwings. The saloon had a couple of ceiling fans doing their best to ease the warm air but barely succeeding. To his right the long bar ran the length of the establishment. Behind the bar an ornately decorated shelving unit held bottles and a long mirror. LeRoy noticed the clean floor and the polished bar. There was no more than a half dozen customers ranged along the bar. Heads lifted as he walked in and selected a clear space for himself. The man behind the bar, well built, his bald head shining above a friendly-enough face, flicked a hand across his thick mustache and moved to face LeRoy as he rested one foot on the brass runner at the base of the bar, tugging at his high-worn white apron.

  ‘What can I get you, Marshal, unless you’re here on official business.’

  ‘Just the coolest beer you have.’

  The man poured a foaming glass and set it down.

  ‘Never claim it’s ice cold ’cause we ain’t got any ice, but there it is. Planning on purchasing one of them ice makers but they’re a fair price.’

  LeRoy took a long swallow of the liquid. As the barman had stated it was not as cold as he liked it, but it was passable.

  ‘Might take another,’ LeRoy said.

  ‘You’re in town because of Teague and Hobbs?’

  LeRoy gave a brief nod.

  ‘Bad business,’ the barman said. ‘That Machin boy’s a real nice feller. Come in here a lot when he was in town.’ He shook his head. ‘Damn shame.’

  ‘An’ that pair damwell got away with it. For now.’

  LeRoy lifted his head at the words. Turned slowly so he could face the speaker.

  A solid figure dressed in range clothes. Dirty blond hair hanging from beneath his hat. An unshaven face that was too far removed from being handsome as he set himself a few feet from where LeRoy stood, beer glass in his hand. The man wore a .45 Colt in a scarred holster on his right hip. His sun browned face held a slight sheen of sweat and it was plain to see he had taken a little too much liquor.

  ‘I don’t see a few years in Yuma as being they got away with it. Not exactly fun and games in there.’

  ‘Mebbe so but my thinkin’ don’t favor that as punishment enough. A loop of rope around their damn necks would be my idea of punishment.’

  The bartender leaned forward, face set as he jabbed a finger at the man.

  ‘Lafe, you leave it alone. Ain’t no sense making trouble where there’s none to be had.’

  ‘Casey, you tend to serving the drinks. This ain’t any of you damn business.’

  ‘It’s my business when you
start makin’ noise in my bar.’

  ‘No problem,’ LeRoy said. ‘Man has something to say I’d like to hear it.’

  Lafe hesitated a moment, caught by LeRoy’s quiet response. Then he recovered and found his voice again.

  ‘He’s a polite one,’ he said.

  ‘For a lawdog,’ a man said from where he sat at a table, another man sitting beside him.

  ‘Daniel Machin is my friend,’ Lafe said. ‘I knowed him a good few years. He don’t deserve what those sonsofbitches did to him. Teague and Hobbs need stringin’ up.’

  ‘You figure you’re the man to do it?’ LeRoy said.

  ‘Damn right. No other yahoo in this stinkin’ town got the guts. And no lawdog wearing a shiny badge is going’ to stop me.’

  ‘Simmer down, Lafe. You got a loose mouth since you been tippin’ back whisky all day. And that hogwash about bein’ Daniel Machin’s friend is because he paid for your drinks is all,’ Casey said, unable to hold back. ‘Ever’body knows you hung around because he let you. He was just a friendly feller. Lafe, he bought drinks for anyone who smiled at him. Don’t go makin’ it like he was your blood brother.’

  Lafe’s big hands, clad in leather work gloves, clenched and unclenched.

  ‘Damn bar swamper, I’ll mash your head in,’ Lafe said.

  His control went and he lunged across the bar, swinging at Casey. He missed as Casey moved aside. The blow intended for the barman bounced off LeRoy’s shoulder, the beer in his glass spilling over the side.

  ‘Easy, friend.’

  ‘Out of my way, lawdog,’ Lafe said. His voice rose to a slurred yell, he swung again, and it was plain to see he was aiming at LeRoy - who leaned to one side, feeling the disturbed air as Lafe’s fist slid by. Somebody in the bar laughed. Lafe’s face darkened with rage, hand dropping to his holstered pistol. Starting to pull it from leather. It was as far as he managed as LeRoy threw the remains of his drink into Lafe’s face. As Lafe stumbled back LeRoy slid out his own pistol and slammed it down across the side of Lafe’s face. It struck with a solid thud. LeRoy hit him a second time and Lafe stumbled forward, blood already welling from the ragged tear in his flesh. He stretched out on the floor at LeRoy’s feet.

  Dropping his weapon back in the holster LeRoy held out his empty glass to Casey for a refill.

  ‘Ain’t wearin’ this badge for fun,’ he said to the saloon. ‘Go against it I won’t remind you a second time.’ LeRoy turned to face the bar again. ‘Take that refill now,’ he said.

  ‘Now I seen it all,’ Casey said as he poured beer into the offered glass. ‘Can’t recall that ever happening to Lafe Munro before.’

  ‘Man likes his drink,’ LeRoy said, ‘but seems he can’t hold it.’

  ‘Allus been his problem,’ Casey said. ‘Marshal, you better step light now. When Lafe wakes up, he’s goin’ to be a trifle upset. Can tell you he holds a grudge.’

  The two men at the nearby table moved to pick up Lafe and maneuver the man back into a chair, leaving a trail of blood across the floor.

  ‘What’s his story?’ LeRoy said.

  ‘All bad. Munro is a hard hombre. Vicious streak that just keeps gettin’ him into trouble. Those partners of his – Riggs and Tannen– are the same. Always on the prod. Those three works for Lawrence Machin part time when they got the urge to earn some money. Lafe Munro, now, has always been ready to cause a fuss. Trouble is he’s got a loose mouth and a temper to match. Too easy with that gun he carries. Since Teague and Hobbs been locked up Lafe’s the one making all the noise about how they should be took out and hung. He likes to stir the pot. Marshal, you made yourself an enemy puttin’ Lafe down.’ Casey eyed the passive expression on LeRoy’s face. ‘Suppose he won’t be the first.’

  ‘It’s a long list, Casey, and getting longer all the time.’

  ‘Beggars the question, Marshal...why the hell do you do it?’

  LeRoy managed a lean smile. ‘Why do you stand behind that bar every day?’

  ‘It’s my job,’ Casey said. Then he showed an equally thin grin. ‘Guess I walked into that one.’

  LeRoy finished his beer and crossed to the table were Lafe still lolled in his chair. He slid the man’s pistol from the holster and shucked out the cartridges. Tossed the gun on the table.

  ‘When he wakes up give it back to him. Tell him I allow every man one mistake. He’s had his. He needs to think about that. Next time I won’t be in such a forgiving mood.’

  One of the men at the table said, ‘Lafe ain’t a man who forgets easy. He ain’t about to be pleased what you done to him.’

  ‘Let him remember the statute on the books about interfering with a duly appointed US Marshal. Do that and I’m in my rights to shoot him if he does.’

  Casey said, ‘That the truth, Marshal?’

  ‘It’s in the Constitution, Casey. You should look at it sometime. Makes interesting reading.’

  LeRoy dropped coins on the bar to pay for his beer and eased away, taking a steady walk outside. The wind he had been hoping for had come, but all it did was raise a dry mist of dust that came in from the flats beyond town.

  Seven

  He stood on the walk, feeling the warped boards move under his boots. This time of day the wide, rutted street was near-enough deserted. He scanned it in both directions. Checked the rooftops. He wasn’t overly worried. Checking things out was a constant. Never allowing his concentration to slip a matter of course. He dropped his right hand to the butt of his Colt, just easing it in the holster, then did the same with the left-hand gun.

  The brief contact with Lafe Munro was nothing LeRoy hadn’t dealt with before. Too much whiskey had loosened the man’s mouth and muddled his thinking. But it happened enough times to make LeRoy aware. He wasn’t going to let Lafe deter him. He also made it his business to stay wary of the man. Times were a man like Lafe Munro might mull over what had happened and even when the whisky fumes had dissipated, leaving his thinking clear, he might still act on impulse. The man was unpredictable. And one who went with his feelings. He wasn’t going to be looking at LeRoy with a cool head. Once he cleared it, he might decide he had a grievance with LeRoy.

  He headed back towards the jail. Statler needed to be told about what had happened. And LeRoy felt himself being pushed into leaving Landiss faster than he had anticipated unless he could calm the situation.

  ‘Looks to me you found trouble you don’t want,’ Statler said when LeRoy told him about the saloon incident.

  ‘Problem I can do without. Damnit, Bernie, I went in for a drink is all. Would have been done and gone if Lafe Munro hadn’t decided to push things.’

  ‘That’s Lafe. Small on straight thinking and big on bustin’ out. Got a mean streak wider than Texas. Man is always havin’ to hit out at somethin’.’

  ‘Let’s hope that clout on his head cools him down. Bernie, I’ve got enough on my hands without some troublemaker stepping in my way.’

  ‘Then get the hell out of Landiss, son. Sooner rather than later. Get that pair out of their cell and ride south to Yuma.’

  ‘I was going to wait until dark and leave town quiet like.’

  ‘I figured that might be your plan. I was you I’d get out now. You stay ‘till dark and you’re giving Lafe and his partners a better chance to sneak around and do what he’s been planning. And he’ll be doing just that. That feller don’t let things go. You bein’ a lawman won’t do a damn thing to stop him.’

  Statler eased out of his chair and crossed to the gun rack. Picked himself a Greener with short barrels. LeRoy watched him load the weapon and push extra shells into his pants.

  ‘I’m not about to let this go over the edge,’ he said. ‘My town, LeRoy, and my law.’

  LeRoy couldn’t argue that. He was a guest in Landiss, his responsibility to get Teague and Hobbs out of town and on the road to Yuma. It was certain now that the longer he stayed in Landiss the more chance something was going to happen. It was going to change his plan to slip away under the cover of
darkness. Lafe Munro could see to that. The man was trouble on the hoof. It had been a stroke of bad luck LeRoy walking into the very saloon where Lafe had been holding court. The man had pushed too far, and LeRoy had reacted out of pure instinct. Only that act had bought him an enemy. It seemed common sense for LeRoy to clear Landiss and get as far from Lafe as quickly as possible.

  That would create its own problems.

  Once the word reached Lafe, he would do something. The man would not let it go. Apart from his misguided loyalty for Daniel Machin, Lafe Munro now had a personal score to settle with US Marshal Alvin LeRoy. Being made to look a fool in front of the patrons of The Crystal Palace would be hurting Lafe Munro as much as LeRoy’s gun barrel laid across his head. The loss of pride lay heavy on a man and it would mean a lot to Lafe Munro to be able to regain that pride.

  ‘I seen Hal Dennison hangin’ around earlier,’ Statler said. ‘Top man for Machin. Always on the lookout for information he can pass to his bossman.’

  ‘He still in town?’

  Statler shook his head. ‘Saw him ride out a while back.’

  LeRoy resigned himself to getting out of town as quickly as he could. If what Statler had said was gospel he might well find himself with Machin on his trail.

  The complications were ratcheting up fast.

  ‘Bernie, do me a favor.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Go down the livery. Bring my horses to the rear of the jail. We can load up there. I’ll pull Teague and Hobbs out of the cell and get them ready. I can cut off the back way out of town. Not what I planned but maybe my luck will let me get clear before too many interested folk figure out what I’m doing.’