The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1942-05-14

high, squealing scream. He ran,
still squealing, to the door. The cow
boy whom Caramba had shot fol-
lowed, still on hands and knees. The
fat man plunged out. Caramba sent
a slug into the floor just behind the
cowboy and he fell fiat and began
to roll to the door. In the cantina
there was sudden quiet, then a
buzz of voices.
"Stick 'em up, you-alll" nervous
voice commanded from the shadows
around the back door. I'm the
constable. And l got you covered
with two barrels full of buck"
He was lank and fidgety and I'M
certain-seeming man, this officer.
But the short double-barreled gun in
his hands was trained upon them
and Con shrugged and lifted both
hands to his ears as the constable
moved slowly toward them.
"You don't mean that you'd ar
rest a man for trying to save his
lifel" he said irritably. "Oxweld
has been on the prod ever since Co.
rec showed him up-and you know
It'll"
maybe so. But there's law that
has got to be followed. I-Ah,
Judged"
A tall man, long of face and mar
row of dark eyes, pushed through
the growing crowd and waved the
constable's shotgun down impa-
tiently. He said in almost conf
Dental tone to Con:
"Put your hardware away. I can
hold an inquest right here, right
now. Some of you men! Up you
come for a jury. Those who didn't
see it, by preference. If you did,
forget it. We've got plenty Of wit
nesses."
The formalities were very slight.
When three witnesses from the play
ers at the poker table had testified.
promptly the jury called Oxweld' s
death justifiable. The justice looked
at Con.
"That was fast work. But it was
more-it was thoughtful. / take it
that you didn't think yourself fast
er, just because of the way Goree
treated Oxweld."
mo. No, l didn't" Con answered
slowly, frowning. ''All I thought
was that somebody would have to
kill Oxweld or he'd be killing him
a man. When he showed himself into
our poker game in way that not
only wasn't necessary, but would
make almost anything on two legs fit
to tie-exposing a decent hand-I
figured that he'd picked me to kill.
He wasn't in a poker humor; he
didn't want my place. l just looked
the tender young pilgrim to him. So,
before I stood UP I knew it was Ok
weld or mel"
"And knew what you intended to
do to make it Oxweld," the justice
said, still studying him shrewdly.
ST thought so. Are you and your
friend working?"
'No. We thought about hitting up
the Wheel. If Tension hasn't got
jobs, we'll go on to see Lit Taylor.
I rode for him a while and he told
me to come back when I wanted
to-"
"The Wheel" the justice said soft
ly. "Why, you couldn't peel 'em for
better outfit. Are you Year, or
Twenty Johnson"
Twenty Johnson. Butch, I re-
member: / told the bartender our
| names. Does the justice here check
on every saddle lobo?"
He looked with open curiosity at
the tall man. Caramba was watch
ing him, also, with blank face and
narrowed eyes.
''Not every saddle lobo, no. Not
as Justice, either. My name is Wi
ley. Suppose we have a talk. You
wait five or ten minutes, then drift.
Go past Carmelita's, swing right
around the next house, walk straight
ahead until you bump into a little
corral. III be there"
Nobody seemed interested in their
movements when they got their
horses and rode through damp dark
ness up to the corral Wiley had indi-
Gated. Beyond was small adobe
house and one shaded window was
yellow square. They put Pancho
and Caramba's black Jeb Stuart
under a ramada and went cautiously
to knock at the house door. Wiley's
calm voice answered and Con gave
his alias. The door opened and Wi
ley stepped back to let them in.