Elmore Leonard's Western Roundup #2

by Elmore Leonard

De Spain nodded resignedly. "All right, but get to the point."

  Tindal gave him a stare, took time to suck at his teeth, then leaned back as slowly as he could.

  "Three days ago," he began, "our sheriff brought in single-handed two men caught in the act o f rustling Sun-D stock." He grinned. "That wasn't too hard for Kirby, doing it alone. You know he's a Randado boy, done most of his growing up righ t here." Seriously again. "But we had something t o say about signing on Kirby. Pima County give hi m to us as a deputy, but by God our committee passe d on him! We looked over this Kirby Frye, along wit h others, and accepted him only after we were sure h e qualified. He's young, but he's a hard-working bo y and we know he can do the job. See what I mean?

  This committee took hold of the problem and we come up with the best deputy in the county!" No w get to the point, quick.

  "Kirby Frye, Deputy Sheriff of Randado, brought in two men caught stealing cattle from a citizen of Randado . . . yet we have to wait unti l John Danaher's good and ready to send for the tw o outlaws before they're tried. We sit here waiting o n the whim of a county sheriff eighty-five miles awa y from us." Now give 'em the big casino! "Gentlemen, here's the point. We sit here doing nothing while we're damn-right able to handle it ourselves!"

  Earl Beaudry and George Stedman both nodded.

  From the door De Spain said, "When was Phil Sundeen talking to you?"

  Tindal looked at him, momentarily surprised, because this wasn't one of the questions he had anticipated, and feeling a sudden embarrassment he kept his eyes steadily on De Spain's dark face as i f to prove that he was sincere and he said, "Do yo u think I'm trying to hide something? I'm not denyin g we talked to Phil Sundeen. I was coming to that . . . i f you'd give me time to tell it my own way. Mayb e I'm not a polished enough speaker for you!"

  De Spain shook his head. "I'm sorry. Go ahead."

  "I'm trying to do a job that could be a damn sight pleasanter. I don't see anybody volunteerin g to head this committee."

  "You're doing a fine job," George Stedman said encouragingly. "Go ahead, tell them the rest."

  "If this is an imposition on Mr. De Spain, maybe we should meet somewhere else," Tindal said.

  De Spain said nothing.

  George Stedman spoke up. "Go on with the rest."

  R. D. Tindal cleared his throat and was embarrassed again and swore at De Spain in his mind. He said, almost angrily now, "Those two Mexican s over in the jail belong to Randado, that's what I'm getting at. And it's our duty to see justice done to them . . . nobody else's!" He brought his fist dow n on the table for emphasis.

  Earl Beaudry half turned in his chair to look at the others. "You see, we--George and R. D. an d me--were talking to Phil Sundeen last night. He come back last night, you know--"

  Tindal interrupted, his face flushed, "Wasn't I t elling it all right?"

  Beaudry turned to him. "Sure, R. D. Go ahead."

  "If you want to take over, Earl--"

  Beaudry waved his palm toward Tindal. "You tell it, R. D."

  "As Earl said, we talked to Phil Sundeen last night here in town . . . in fact we were over to th e Metropolitan when they brought in that drun k Apache. That right, Haig?" This was to show tha t they had met Phil Sundeen in a public place an d there was nothing undercover about it.

  Haig Hanasian nodded. He was dark with a heavy drooping mustache and his eyes appeare d half closed because the lids were heavy.

  "Haig saw us," Tindal said. "So did his wife.

  Well, we mentioned to Phil how Kirby Frye brought in the two Mexicans; which he hadn't heard about. Then he reminded us of somethin g we'd known for a long time. He said his stock's always been rustled. With the border so close it's a temptation and his spread's hit harder than th e ones up the valley. He said he'd complained t o Mendez--that's when Harold was deputy--bu t nothing was ever done about it. Phil said he's alw ays had the suspicion Harold Mendez never di d anything because the outlaws were always up fro m across the border and Harold being about ninetynine percent Mex didn't give a particular damn so long as they were stealing from white men.

  "Well, we got rid of Harold Mendez and got us a Randado boy, one we can trust. Harold Mende z isn't going to bother anybody being jailer." Tinda l grinned. "With what it pays, Harold's the only on e willing to do that kind of work." This was Tindal's view, not something Sundeen had told him.

  "I told Phil how Kirby was deputy now. He didn't know that because he'd already started hi s drive the time we appointed Kirby. Then Phil mad e a pretty good point. He said, 'All right, let's say thi s new sheriff does grab a rustler. He's carted up t o Tucson for trial. The man he stole from has to leav e his work for at least a week, maybe longer, and g o all the way up to the county seat to testify. Chance s are, the rustler's only given a term in Yuma and in a year or so he's back driving stock over the borde r again.' That's what Phil said and by God I think i t makes some sense."

  Tindal leaned forward in his chair. He remembered well how he was to say this next part. He looked over the room slowly and then said, "No w what would there be to stop us--I mean us--fro m trying those two Mexicans?" The room was stil l silent and he added, quietly, "Right here and now."

  Some of the men, looking at each other now, started to talk and one man's voice, above the others was saying, "Now wait a minute!"

  Earl Beaudry turned in his chair. "Well why not?" And a man at another table shrugged an d said, "That's right. When you get down to it, wh y not?"

  George Stedman said, "Like R. D. mentioned this is a crime committed against a citizen of Randado. Now common sense would tell us that the citizens of Randado, as a body, ought to be qualified to see that justice is administered."

  The man in the back who had spoken now said, "We'd be nothing more than a lynch mob."

  Earl Beaudry said, "We're going to try them first."

  George Stedman brought his fist down on the table. "If we're a lynch mob then that's what th e court up at the county seat is, that's what an y court is if you look at it that way. Can't you se e we're talking as the people, and there isn't an y court on the face of the earth that's more tha n that!"

  R. D. Tindal waved his hand in the air. "Gentlemen." He said louder, "Gentlemen, here's the point. Why should we let outlaws take advantag e of us, just because the courthouse is eighty-fiv e miles away? We establish law here, deal with thos e two Mexicans ourselves, and then, by God, other s will think twice about stealing out of the San Rafae l valley!"

  De Spain said, "R. D.," and when Tindal looked at him, "I don't mean to sound disrespectful, bu t I've got a suspicion you're asking us to do anothe r man's work."

  "We all live here!" Tindal said angrily.

  De Spain shrugged. "You can make it sound like whatever you like. But . . . on the chance of sounding blunt, I'd say you were kissing Sundeen's hind end."

  Tindal colored, but he kept control of himself because everyone in the room was watching hi m and he said, "You've always had a notion you ca n say whatever enters your head. Now that might b e a pretty funny thing you said, but just what does i t mean?"

  "I'd have to draw a picture," De Spain said, "to make it plainer."

  Tindal was still controlled, but with an effort.

  "Maybe I'm just so dumb I have to have it spelled out."

  "Well," De Spain said. "Whether he looks it or not, Sundeen's the biggest man in the San Rafael.

  He's got the most land, he hires the most men and, what should have been said first, he's got the mos t money. Now being friends with a man like that ca n make you feel pretty important, and have some advantages besides."

  Earl Beaudry grinned, shaking his head. "You been drinking your bar whisky."

  "Earl," De Spain said, "I understand you lease winter graze to the Sundeens and haven't worked a day in your life. What if Phil was to lease it somewhere else?"

  De Spain looked at Tindal now. He wanted to accuse him of scheming to marry his daughter of f to Phil, but that might be going too far, so he jus t
said, "To some people feeling important's the bes t feeling in the world." He looked at Stedman to include him.

  George Stedman was composed. He said, "Since you mention dealing with Sundeen, where woul d you be if he and his men stopped drinkin g whisky?"

  "I happen to have the only saloon in town."

  "Well, let's say someone borrowed enough money from my bank to open another."

  "I've taken the bar apart before," De Spain answered, "and thrown it in a wagon."

  "Gentlemen," R. D. Tindal said. "Let's stop talking nonsense." He looked at De Spain. "We're discussing a judicial system for our citizens, nothing else, regardless of how you want to twist ou r words."

  De Spain shrugged. "It's your affair."

  "Then you don't want to be on the committee?"

  "I never was, really." De Spain added, "You picked a good day with Kirby Frye away."

  "Kirby'd be with us a hundred percent."

  "You know damn well that's not true."

  Tindal ignored him and looked at the others. "I d on't think the loss of one man's going to hurt u s any. If anybody else objects, speak up now. If not , nominations are open for City Judge. Next, Cit y Prosecutor." That was the way to do it, fast. The n there wouldn't be unnecessary arguing.

  Haig Hanasian stood up. He said, "I won't be a part of this." De Spain opened the door, steppin g aside, and Haig went out without saying anothe r word.

  Tindal waited. Three other men left hurriedly and Tindal put their names down in his memory.

  When the room was quiet again he said, "All right, nominations are now open for City Judge."

  Dandy Jim saw more people as noontime approached. Most of the men seemed to be entering and leaving the building directly across the stree t and there were many of them standing in the ramada shade, more there than anywhere up or down the street; just standing, talking to each other wit h their hands in their pockets and sometimes spittin g out into the sun of the street. There were two buildings here, both adobe, but only the different sign s indicated that there were two--DE SPAIN'S, and a little farther down, METROPOLITAN CAFE. Dand y Jim could not read the signs, but he put it down i n his mind that these must be important places.

  He thought again of the one whose name was Frye, as he had been doing from time to time. Th e first time he saw him had been at San Carlos whe n they were both much younger. He remembered th e lean boy, tall and with light-colored hair with hi s hat off, standing watching their games. Then joining their games finally, after weeks of watching.

  The foot races, pony races, wrestling, and seeing how far one could run with a mouthful of water, o r seeing how far a boy could travel without water a t all. And even from the first, this one named Fry e did well, for a white man; and he did get better.

  He remembered seeing him at Fort Huachuca during the past year. Every few months this Kirb y Frye would come with two Apache boys and a string of half-green horses.

  Sometimes he and Frye would talk, because they remembered each other from the times they playe d games together and the few times in between whe n they would meet by chance.

  Then, only a month ago, they had been together at Galluro after the raid by the renegade Chiricahuas, and Frye had gone off with the one who was called Sheriff. Dan-a-her was his name.

  And now Kirby Frye was here, or at least he had been last night. I would like to talk to him again , Dandy Jim thought. He is an easy man to talk to.

  The two Mexicans, who were in the cell across from Dandy Jim, spoke to each other very little.

  They were here because a man in La Noria--it had been in the cantina--told them how easy it was t o steal cattle from this ranch that was so large its riders could never be watching all of it. Drive the cattle across the border, the man told them, down to the Hacienda of the Mother of God. The Mayordomo there will pay good money and ask no questions. Even eat some of the beef yourselves, the man told them.

  The younger of the two Mexicans spoke only a few words during the morning and only touched th e fork to his food, because he was trying to pictur e what would happen to them. The other man, wh o wore a mustache and now needed a shave badly , had slept well, had eaten all of his morning mea l and now looked forward to the next. He though t most often of the present, sometimes the past, if i t was a pleasant remembrance, never of the future.

  The younger man asked, "What will they do to us?" He was frowning and talking to himself a s much as he was to his companion.

  The other man said, with finality, "Shoot us."

  He was tired of hearing this question asked.

  The younger man looked up, with fear clearly on his face. "But won't we be given a trial?"

  "How would I know that?"

  "You've lived in this country before."

  The older man was so tired of this conversation now that he did not bother to answer. But as h e looked about for something to interest him he saw , across the hallway in the other cell, Dandy Jim. He said to the younger man, "Ask that barbaria n there. He's lived here all of his life."

  "Here comes Sundeen!" Wordie Stedman said, turning his head from the window.

  Harold Mendez drew on his cigar. He was thinking: I'm glad I'm no longer deputy. In about an hour I would have to go over to De Spain's and as k Phil to stop firing his pistol . . . and probably ge t the barrel across my skull. Kirby hasn't had to d o that yet. But the time will come.

  "There're two men with him," Wordie said.

  "One of them is Digo," Harold said, though his back was to the window.

  The boy nodded, looking out of the window again. "I don't know who the other one is."

  "It could be anyone."

  "He don't look like a trail hand."

  Harold Mendez swiveled in his chair. He saw the three men dismounting in front of De Spain's an d Sundeen and the one they did not know handin g the reins to Digo who led the horses away, probably taking them to the livery.

  "He's new," the boy said. "I never saw him before."

  Harold Mendez nodded, studying the man stepping up on the porch with Sundeen. No, he wasn't a trail hand, but he wasn't a doctor or a lawyer either.

  Harold Mendez thought: What is there about a man like that which singles him out? I would be willin g to bet my pay for a year this one is hired for his gun.

  Still, even thinking this, he wasn't afraid; because he knew he would never be a bother to this man.

  The boy said, "Who do you think he is?"

  "Just a friend of Phil Sundeen's."

  "He don't look like a trail hand though, does he?"

  "No, he doesn't."

  "Know what he looks like to me?"

  "What?"

  "A gambler."

  "What do they look like?"

  "Always wearin' a full suit and face pale from never being in the sun."

  "You couldn't tell from here whether he was pale or not."

  "Well, what else might he be?"

  "He could be lots of things."

  "Now here comes Digo back. Boy, he's big!"

  Wordie said. As if looking for an argument he added, "You know he's the best horsebreaker in th e whole Territory."

  Harold Mendez shrugged. "He's killed as many as he's broken."

  "Boy, he's fast! I've seen him in that mesquite corral. One minute talking to the bronc real sweet , close up to the bronc's ear . . . the next minut e clobberin' it across the nose with one of them bi g fists of his. Boy--" Wordie Stedman shook hi s head, grinning with admiration.

  After a minute, the boy said, "Can I help you get the trays now?"

  "I suppose it's time." Harold Mendez came out of the chair slowly, with an effort.

  Then the boy said, "Here they come back out already!" Harold Mendez looked toward the window. "And there's my dad and Mr. Tindal and Mr.

  Beaudry--"

  Mendez saw them stepping down out of the shadow of the ramada, crossing the street, comin g directly for the jail and he said to Wordie Stedman , though he wasn't sure why, "Boy, you better sca
t out of here!"

  Wordie Stedman opened the door. "Dad--"

  "Wordie! What're you doing here?" George Stedman was in the lead with Tindal and Beaudry.

  "Just talking to Harold."

  "Kirby Frye's not here?"

  Tindal scowled. "You know he rode out last night."

  "I'm making sure," Stedman said. Then to the boy, "Go on home, Wordie."

  The boy frowned. "I was supposed to help Harold get the dinner trays in a minute."

  Tindal said, "You let Harold do his own work . . . what he's paid for."

  "Go on home now, Wordie," George Stedman said. The boy started to back away, then wa s walking sideways as Stedman looked over hi s shoulder. Behind him were Phil Sundeen, Digo an d the new man whom Phil had introduced as Cla y Jordan.

  "He wants to be a sheriff when he grows up,"

  Stedman said smiling. The three men behind him did not smile, but Phil Sundeen's eyes lifted and h e said, "There's Mendez, the son of a bitch."

  At one time Harold Mendez smiled often. He used to say, "Good morning, Mr. Stedman. Goo d morning, Mr. Tindal." Smiling. "Yes, sir, it certainly is a fine day." Get on the right side of the town's leading citizens and you're on your way.

  Now, standing in the doorway, he looked at them sullenly, his eyes on the men in front, but seein g Phil Sundeen and the new man, being conscious o f the men behind them and the crowd that was gathering, and he said, "What do you want?"

  "We want your two prisoners," R. D. Tindal announced.

  "Which two?"

  "The chilipickers," Earl Beaudry said.

  "Which two are they?"

  "The Mexicans."

  "What for?"

  Beaudry said, "To lynch 'em, for cry-sake!"

  This wasn't the way to go about it and Tindal said, "By the power vested in my office as city prosecutor, I order you to hand over the two Mexican outlaws."

  "City prosecutor?"

  Tindal nodded his head once. "City prosecutor.

  George Stedman now presides over our municipal bench."

  Harold Mendez frowned.

  "Harold, we'll explain this just once. Not a half hour ago the Citizens Committee elected everythin g we need to try persons accused of crimes in Randado or against Randado citizens. George Stedman is judge. I'm prosecuting attorney. We called a jur y to hear the case of those two Mexicans. Well, the y heard it, Mr. Sundeen's testimony and all . . . an d they rendered a prompt, just decision."