The sheriff’s lips moved.
‘You’re deputised,’ he said.
McAllister lifted the badge from the man’s vest and fixed it on himself. He grinned briefly. Going back to Rosa, he kissed her lightly on the forehead and said: ‘Wait up for me, honey.’
He walked out of the room, through the saloon and out onto the street. He went straight to Moose who was lying in the dust. To his amazement, the man was still alive. He told the men there, gathered around like flies attracted to blood: ‘This man’s under arrest. Tote him down to the sheriff’s office.’
‘He’s hurt bad,’ a man said.
‘He’s still under arrest.’
He went on to the hotel where Brenell was staying, slamming his way into the lobby and coming face to face with Brenell himself. Behind him were three armed men and Clem. The last looked like death warmed up.
‘Has sonny boy told daddy his story?’ McAllister thrust at the rancher. ‘Has he told him about the girl held with a knife at her throat?’
Brenell went purple with rage. He roared: ‘You’re under arrest, McAllister. I’m making a citizen’s arrest. You kidnapped my son. I’m goin’ to finish you.’
‘Like you finished Jim Rigby. You goin’ to ride right over me with your hired men, Brenell? You make me sick to the stomach, you an’ men like you. Wa-al, you think this over, friend. I’m the law in this town now.’
‘Since when?’
‘Since two minutes back.’
‘This is a mockery.’
‘Ain’t it? Tell me what you’re goin’ to do about it.’
Brenell looked around at his men.
Clem said: ‘Kill him, pa.’
The battered old Remington appeared in McAllister’s hand.
‘Go ahead,’ he said through his teeth, ‘pull your irons and fill this place with blood. You’ll be the first to go, Brenell.’
Brenell changed his tactics.
‘Let’s not be hasty, McAllister. Let’s talk this over like sensible men.’
‘I ain’t bein’ sensible with a man who burned another man’s house down. You’re under arrest, Brenell.’
‘You can’t prove a thing, McAllister, and you know it. Any road, didn’t you burn my place?’
McAllister smiled blandly and said: ‘I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.’ He allowed his show of rage to disappear. ‘We’re quits I reckon. Tell you what I’ll do. You rent water rights from Jim Rigby an’ maybe I’ll forget I hated your guts the minute I set eyes on you.’
Brenell hesitated.
Clem said: ‘Don’t you do it, pa. We don’t have to take this from anybody. We’re the biggest outfit in the country. There ain’t nobody can stop us.’
‘Listen to it,’ McAllister said. ‘Son, you got hit in the leg. The next one’ll be through your fool head.’
The elder Brenell had gone pale. He knew the threat wasn’t an idle one.
McAllister added: ‘Shultz and Moose’re under arrest. Shultz talked.’
The fight seemed to go out of Carl Brenell. He sighed and passed a tired hand over his forehead. In a dull voice, he said: ‘You win, McAllister.’
McAllister said: ‘It’s live quiet, Brenell, or ride out of the country.’
The man nodded.
McAllister backed out of there and went north along the sidewalk, reached Rosa’s place and went inside. He had a whiskey at the bar, then walked upstairs. When he went into her bedroom, there was Billy on the couch with Pat weeping over him calling him her hero. Rosa was on her feet, bending over Mart. McAllister went up and put an arm around her. He looked down at Mart and said: ‘All over, old-timer. Brenell will be a good boy from here on out. If you step on him a mite.’
Rosa reached up and kissed him.
‘Is it really all over?’ she asked.
‘I reckon,’ he told her.
‘So I suppose you now saddle your horse and ride into the sunset,’ she said. There was a touch of sadness in her voice.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m a mighty sick man. I need to recuperate. You know what that means, girl?’
She dimpled.
‘I have a good idea what it means in your book.’
‘Wrong first time,’ he told her. ‘It means a coupla dozen steaks and a gallon of beer.’
She slapped his face. Gently.
For little Joe who
wants to grow up to
be a cowboy
This electronic edition published in 2011 by Bloomsbury Reader
Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP
Copyright © P. C. Watts 1969.
First published by Panther Books 1969
The moral right of the author has been asserted
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ISBN: 9781448203024
eISBN: 9781448202690
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Blood on Mcallister Page 16
