Part 34 (1/2)
”You'll come none of your d.a.m.ned ranger stunts out here. I'll block you.”
That pa.s.sionate reply of Longstreth's was the signal Duane had been waiting for. He had helped on the crisis. He wanted to force Longstreth's hand and show the town his stand.
Duane backed clear of everybody.
”Men! I call on you all!” cried Duane, piercingly. ”I call on you to witness the arrest of a criminal prevented by Longstreth, Mayor of Fairdale. It will be recorded in the report to the Adjutant-General at Austin. Longstreth, you'll never prevent another arrest.”
Longstreth sat white with working jaw.
”Longstreth, you've shown your hand,” said Duane, in a voice that carried far and held those who heard. ”Any honest citizen of Fairdale can now see what's plain--yours is a d.a.m.n poor hand! You're going to hear me call a spade a spade. In the two years you've been Mayor you've never arrested one rustler. Strange, when Fairdale's a nest for rustlers! You've never sent a prisoner to Del Rio, let alone to Austin. You have no jail. There have been nine murders during your office--innumerable street-fights and holdups. Not one arrest! But you have ordered arrests for trivial offenses, and have punished these out of all proportion. There have been lawsuits in your court-suits over water-rights, cattle deals, property lines. Strange how in these lawsuits you or Lawson or other men close to you were always involved!
Strange how it seems the law was stretched to favor your interest!”
Duane paused in his cold, ringing speech. In the silence, both outside and inside the hall, could be heard the deep breathing of agitated men.
Longstreth was indeed a study. Yet did he betray anything but rage at this interloper?
”Longstreth, here's plain talk for you and Fairdale,” went on Duane. ”I don't accuse you and your court of dishonesty. I say STRANGE! Law here has been a farce. The motive behind all this laxity isn't plain to me--yet. But I call your hand!”
CHAPTER XVII
Duane left the hall, elbowed his way through the crowd, and went down the street. He was certain that on the faces of some men he had seen ill-concealed wonder and satisfaction. He had struck some kind of a hot trait, and he meant to see where it led. It was by no means unlikely that Cheseldine might be at the other end. Duane controlled a mounting eagerness. But ever and anon it was shot through with a remembrance of Ray Longstreth. He suspected her father of being not what he pretended.
He might, very probably would, bring sorrow and shame to this young woman. The thought made him smart with pain. She began to haunt him, and then he was thinking more of her beauty and sweetness than of the disgrace he might bring upon her. Some strange emotion, long locked inside Duane's heart, knocked to be heard, to be let out. He was troubled.
Upon returning to the inn he found Laramie there, apparently none the worse for his injury.
”How are you, Laramie?” he asked.
”Reckon I'm feelin' as well as could be expected,” replied Laramie. His head was circled by a bandage that did not conceal the lump where he had been struck. He looked pale, but was bright enough.
”That was a good crack Snecker gave you,” remarked Duane.
”I ain't accusin' Bo,” remonstrated Laramie, with eyes that made Duane thoughtful.
”Well, I accuse him. I caught him--took him to Longstreth's court. But they let him go.”
Laramie appeared to be agitated by this intimation of friends.h.i.+p.
”See here, Laramie,” went on Duane, ”in some parts of Texas it's policy to be close-mouthed. Policy and health-preserving! Between ourselves, I want you to know I lean on your side of the fence.”
Laramie gave a quick start. Presently Duane turned and frankly met his gaze. He had startled Laramie out of his habitual set taciturnity; but even as he looked the light that might have been amaze and joy faded out of his face, leaving it the same old mask. Still Duane had seen enough.
Like a bloodhound he had a scent.
”Talking about work, Laramie, who'd you say Snecker worked for?”
”I didn't say.”
”Well, say so now, can't you? Laramie, you're powerful peevish to-day.
It's that b.u.mp on your head. Who does Snecker work for?”