CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT
"I tell you, Rafe," said Reelfoot in a panic, "they suspect me--theythink I'm mixed up in this murder business."
"Accessory before and after the fact," slipped in the districtattorney. A reptile himself, he relished the wrigglings of anotherreptile. "If they prove it on you, you'll be hanged sure as Dan Slikewill hang."
"I ain't the only one they can prove it on," snarled Simon Reelfoot.
"Who have you got in mind?" Rafe Tuckleton said in a colorless voice.
"Both of you, for instance," Reelfoot informed him.
"You do us a grave injustice." Thus the district attorney solemnly.
Rafe Tuckleton shook his head at Simon. "Wrong tree. You don't knowanything about us."
Simon Reelfoot gaped at both of them. "Why, we fixed it up between us.You know we did. You even wanted two cows killed so's to make it looklifelike to the deputies."
Rafe looked at the district attorney. "The man's mad."
Simon's teeth snapped together like a cornered coyote. "If you'retrying to put this thing all off on me--" he began, and stopped.
"We're not trying to put anything off on you," the district attorneytold him silkily. "There's nothing to put off on you anyway. Not athing. You're nervous, that's all, Simon. Your imagination is workingovertime."
"Sure is," corroborated Rafe. "You don't think we've got anything todo with the murder of Tom Walton, do you, Simon?"
The Reelfoot jaw dropped. The man stared helplessly at Rafe and thedistrict attorney. "Whatell did-- Say, what else was all thatrigamarole for then?"
"What rigamarole?" Oh, so patient was the voice of Rafe Tuckleton.
Reelfoot gulped. "You had me go to Wingo's office, and rile him up,and spin him a lot of jerkwater stuff about my rustled cows, so's toget him and his deputies all ready to go away with me, when Driver wasto come in with that stuff about Kilroe and keep Bill in town while thedeputies went with me. Well, you know how only Shillman went. But Icouldn't help that. Anyway, I suppose you thought you was foxy not totell me the rest of the story about Skinny Shindle and the fake letterand so forth. Gents, you was foxy. Yeah, you was foxy. But I'm foxyhimself. I can put two and two together and make four any day."
He paused and glared at the pair of them. "I wondered what it was allabout. Yeah, I wondered, and I asked you and you said it was to keepBill Wingo from mixing into a li'l stock deal. Stock deal!" HereSimon spat upon the floor. "Stock deal!" rushed on Simon. "You neversaid it was murder."
Rafe Tuckleton and the district attorney exchanged wooden looks.
"Now that you mention it," said Rafe, "I don't believe we did."
"I thought you didn't like Tom Walton," observed the district attorney.
Simon Reelfoot swore a string of oaths. "I didn't like him, not a bit.But I don't want to be hung for helping having him killed."
"That would be unfortunate," murmured the district attorney.
"I ain't sorry he was killed, of course," Simon fretted on, unheeding."That part was all right, but I didn't want to be mixed up in it.There's no sense in doing a thing like that if you're gonna be caught.And I don't mean to be caught! You didn't have no right to get me intothis deal without telling me all the circumstances first," he concludedweakly.
"Then you think you've been badly treated?" purred the districtattorney.
"I know it," declared Simon.
"I'm sorry."
"I didn't come here for sympathy."
"What did you come for?"
"Protection. What do you s'pose? You've gotta protect me."
"Listen to him, Rafe. Says we gotta protect him. That new brand ofwhisky at George's Place is certainly awful stuff. If you'll take myadvice, Simon, you'll go a li'l easy on it till your system gets usedto it."
"Yeah, sosh up by degrees like," offered Rafe.
"Look here," said the exasperated Reelfoot, "either you fellers pullsuspicion off o' me, or I go to Wingo with the whole story."
"What'll that get you?" demanded Rafe. "Nothin', just nothin'. Wildtales of dead cows and separatin' Bill from his deputies and all ain'tevidence. Nawsir. Think again, brother, think again."
"And, anyway," tucked in the district attorney, "what was wrong withthe wild tale? It came straight enough. There were the tracks andthere were the cows. Who can say your story wasn't the truth?"
"I tell you, they _know_ it ain't the truth."
"How do they know?"
Simon did not make immediate reply. It was the worst thing he couldhave done.
"Well?" prompted Rafe.
"They--uh--uh--they know it."
"How, I asked you?"
"They didn't--Shillman got suspicious over the cows."
"Why did he get suspicious over the cows?"
Simon Reelfoot wriggled in his chair. "Well--uh--I--he did, that'sall."
Rafe leaned forward. His face was sharp with suspicion. "_Why didhe?_"
"I--I----" Simon stammered, and bogged down right there.
"C'mon," directed Rafe inexorably. "Spit it out."
"One of the cows had big-jaw," admitted Reelfoot.
Rafe sucked in his breath.
"What did the other one have?" almost whispered the district attorney.
"The other one died of the yallers last fall," said Reelfoot in a voicethat matched the district attorney's. "But," he added hastily, "itcome on to freeze soon after. I--I sort o' hated to kill two _good_cows."
"Seeing that two good cows were all you were putting up in return forthe benefits you would derive from the--uh--political situation, youcould have afforded to lose them." Thus the district attorney, staringat Reelfoot.
The latter looked with sullen foreboding at Rafe. The Tuckleton facewas bloated with rage.
"So that's how it is!" he choked out. "You had your orders and youmuddled them out of rank meanness! Too stingy to kill a couple ofhealthy cows, you hadda risk everything with one that died last yearand another with big-jaw! And then, after you've got 'em suspectin'you good and strong through what's first, last, and only your ownfault, you come to us for help!"
"Where else could I go?" queried Reelfoot sulkily.
"To hell for all I care, you half-witted fool! A big-jaw steer! Andthe other one half rotten, I'll bet!"
"I didn't think he'd notice it," defended Simon.
"You didn't think! No, I'll gamble you didn't! You never have! Youcouldn't! My Gawd, you deserve to be hung! I hope you are!"
"You forget, Rafe," said the district attorney, "that you and I don'tknow what all Mr. Reelfoot is driving at."
But Rafe Tuckleton was too angry to keep up the farce any longer. "Ihope the fool's hung!" he panted.
"I'll take care not to go alone," said Reelfoot, pressing hisadvantage. "You fellers will have to see that I'm protected or I'lltell what I know."
"Blah!" blared the district attorney. "You wouldn't dare snitch!"
"I'll dare more than that to save my skin," Reelfoot declared hardily.
Rafe Tuckleton returned to the charge. "What in so-and-so andsuch-and-such did you do such a fool trick for? Don't youknow--couldn't you--oh, whatsa use?"
"You oughta told me all the circumstances," persisted Reelfoot. "Thatwas _your_ fault. If I'd knowed, I could have managed better."
"I expect--you couldn't," said Rafe Tuckleton, with an appreciablepause after each word.
"What you gonna do about it?" Reelfoot wanted to know, fidgeting in hischair.
"You'll be taken care of now, you needn't to worry."
"Oh, fine, fi-ine. That helps a lot, that does, with either Bill Wingoor one of his deputies over to my place about every other day, snoopin'round and talking to my men."
"They do that, do they?"
"Yes, they do that."
"What of it?" demanded Rafe. "They can't find out anything, can they?You weren't fool enough to let on to your men--your foreman or anybody,we
re you?"
"Sure not. But----"
"But what?"
"I don't like 'em slouchin' round this way. You dunno what'll happen.They might find out somethin' you can't tell."
"If you didn't tell any of your men, you're safe," soothed the districtattorney, "so long as you keep your upper lip stiff. You're just ali'l nervous, that's all, Simon. Nothing to worry you a-tall. Here,have another drink. Rafe, shove the bottle over, will you?"
Rafe Tuckleton pettishly obeyed, muttering under his breath. It wasonly too painfully obvious that Reelfoot's remarks had upset him, andhe didn't care who knew it.
"Look here, Simon," he said suddenly. "You wanna leave right here yournotion that you'll snitch if it comes to the squeak."
"I'll think about it," said Simon, setting down his glass deliberately.
"Because," Rafe continued, as though there had been no interruption,"you wanna remember it's almost as easy to kill two men as it is one."
"I'd thought of that," said Simon, "and I brought two of my men with meto-night. They're down at the saloon waiting for me now."
"A lot of good they are down there," sneered Rafe.
"But they can do you and Arthur here a lot of harm later--if anythinghappens."
"Don't you trust us?"
"Not so far as I can throw a calf by the tail," was the candid reply."I'm goin' now. You fellers scratch your heads over what I've said. Iain't gonna go to the pen for anybody, and you can stick a pin in that."
When Simon was gone, the district attorney and Rafe sat in silencewhile a man, had one been so inclined, might have counted threehundred. Neither looked at the other. Rafe fiddled with his glass onthe tabletop. The district attorney rolled a slow cigarette.
The district attorney was the first to break the silence with, "Simon'sgot a bad case of nerves."
"We oughtn't to have used him," said Rafe. "First thing you know thetom fool will say or do something we'll all be sorry for. I didn'tthink he was like that."
"Maybe we'd ought to have told him all of it from the beginning."
"Not that. No, he'd never have gone in it then. He ain't got nerveenough. I'm afraid Reelfoot's days of usefulness to us are over."
"He's done good work in the past."
"The past ain't now. And I tell you, Arthur, if Simon gets any morejumpy than he is now, he'll kick the kettle over. You hear me, he'lldo it, the pup!"
Rafe allowed the district attorney two full minutes to mull over this,then he continued:
"We gotta get rid of him."
The district attorney looked over at Rafe, his upper lip lifting. "Isuppose we gotta."
"We'll work the old game over again."
"Not on your life! We turned it once! And that was one too many."
"We had bad luck, that's all. Just a li'l hard luck. Look here,didn't Simon say either Bill or one of his deputies were alwayssnooping round his ranch? All right, what more do we want? We can fixit so's to get rid of two birds at a clip. And it'll work this trip.We'll do it all right."
"We'll have to." The district attorney smiled grimly.
Rafe Tuckleton gazed speculatively upon his friend. "How about TipO'Gorman?"
"Well?"
Rafe came flatly to the point. "How about gettin' rid of him, too?"
But this was going too fast for the district attorney. He shook hishead. "No. Too dangerous."
"Now look here," said Rafe, leaning forward and tapping the districtattorney's knee with a persuasive forefinger, "you're forgetting thatall this trouble we're having is due to Tip O'Gorman. If it hadn'tbeen for him wanting a 'safe' man, Jack Murray would have been elected,and everything about now would be fine as frawg's hair in January."
"Well, we had to give 'em one honest man," said the district attorneycynically. "The voters were getting ideas."
"Rats," snorted Rafe. "What if they were? I don't give a damn whatTip or anybody says, we were strong enough to elect our whole ticket.Huh? No 'maybe' about it. I know. Tip's an old woman, I tell you.He's gettin' too big for his boots. He needs a lesson."
"Who'll give him one?"
"We will."
"No. Not for a minute. I know Tip. I ain't locking horns with thatgent."
"Whatcha afraid of? He can't do anything."
"Can't, huh? Aw right, let it go at that. Not any for me, thanks."
Again Rafe's persuasive forefinger came into action. "Say, Tip ain'tany grizzly bear, feller. He's only a two-legged man like you and me.He can be put where he belongs."
The district attorney remained unconvinced. "I hear you say it."
"Ain't you got any nerve a-tall?"
"Where Tip is concerned, not much," was the frank reply. "I've seenthat man in action."
"Action nothin'. That's just what's the matter with that man--notenough action. He'll go so far and no farther. He don't want anybodywiped out if he can help it. You saw what a fuss he made over TomWalton's killing. Lord! He made me sick! You might 'a' thought Tomwas a good friend of his. I tell you, Arthur, that sort ofsqueamishness don't get you anywhere. Nawsir. You gotta go the wholehog or you'll wind up in the calaboose. You bet I ain't for any ofthem half-way plans. It's kill a bull every time, or I don't shoot.Tip O'Gorman must go."
"Lessee what Sam Larder and Crafty say," the district attorney offereduneasily.
"No, not them, either of 'em," Rafe declared firmly. "They're friendsof Tip's."
"You tell 'em just like you told me," suggested the other. "Maybe youcould persuade 'em."
Rafe shook a decided head. "Not a chance. I know them. They're softand bull-headed where Tip's concerned. They think he's hell on theWabash, you know that. Those three stand together always. No, Arthur,if we shove this deal through, we gotta do it alone."
But the district attorney remained dubious. "It's too big an order."
"Not by a jugful it ain't. Gimme the bottle."
Rafe poured out a stiff four fingers. He drank it slowly. Then he hadanother. His eyes began to gleam redly. Suddenly he stood up andstruck the table with his fist.
"I'll show 'em," he exclaimed. "Tip needn't think he can gimme orders!Won't let you ship cows if you get your leg over the pole again, saysO'Gorman, Larder and Craft. Just as if I'd done something out of theway instead of tryin' to put one more polecat out of the world. I'llshow 'em! Say, Arthur, whatsa matter with buckin' Larder and Craftafter we put Tip out of business?"
"Wait till we do," replied the district attorney, who foresaw manydifficulties in the proposed operation. "And if you ask me, I don'tknow how we're going to do it."
Rafe Tuckleton scratched a tousled head. "Jonesy might shoot himcleaning' his gun," he proffered.
"Why don't you do it yourself?"
Rafe showed the requisite amount of contempt for such a foolishquestion. "It's more'n possible Tip might start cleanin' his own gunabout that time. And I _could_ spare Jonesy if I had to."
"Jonesy might not want to take the chance. You haven't thought ofthat, have you?"
Rafe, by way of reply, took another drink. When he set the bottledown, the district attorney picked it up, held it against the daylight,then looked reproachfully at his friend and put the bottle away in thecupboard.
"Tell you what we can do," said Rafe. "We can have Simon do it."
"Simon Reelfoot?"
"Who else. Sure. Why not?"
"You're crazy. Simon may be a fool, but he has more sense than that."
"Simon drinks a skinful sometimes. Ever see him when he gets that way?He acts very rowdy. Yeah. I'm almost certain if, when Simon was underthe influence thataway, he was told that Tip had found out about hisshare in the Walton killing and was making threats against him, thatFriend Simon would just naturally hop out and fill Tip full of holes."
"But I thought you were saving Simon for Wingo? The sheriff's moreimportant than Tip just now."
It was evident that the district attorney was becoming more and
moreworried at the prospect of giving Tip his quietus.
"We'll have to figure out something else for Wingo," said Rafe. Thenhe brought his open palm down on his knee with a crack like a pistolshot. The district attorney jumped in his chair. "I got it!" criedRafe. "I got it! It just came to me when you said 'Wingo.' We'll getthe three of 'em at one lick."
"I knew I didn't put that bottle away soon enough."
"Rats. My head's clear as a bell--two bells, by Gawd! Listen. We'llget Simon and that foreman of his drunk. We'll sick the pair of 'em onTip O'Gorman. They'll put the kibosh on Tip, and the word will bepassed for the sheriff. He will go to make the arrest and they'll plughim. Being drunk, they'll be desperate and won't care what they do."
"Suppose the deputies go with Bill?"
"We'll have to fix it so they won't. Oh, it'll be natural this time.We'll wait till they're taking somebody over to Hillsville, or gone tomake an arrest or something."
"But the sheriff may swear in a posse to help chase 'em."
"There won't be any chase. For a chase you gotta have horses, andwe'll take away their horses first thing. No, it's a cinch Bill Wingowill go to arrest 'em by his lonesome. He's that kind."
"And we took him for a mark," was the district attorney's bitter remark.
"I didn't," lied Rafe. "I always knowed what he was."
The district attorney did not contradict this statement. Nothing wasto be gained by a fight with Rafe Tuckleton.