Chiefs by Stuart Woods Read Free Book Online Page A

head. “In a minute or two you will, but right now all you want to do is hold your belly and get your breath.” Will Henry weighed 180 pounds, but Skeeter reached under his arms and lifted him to his feet like a child.
    “I’m sorry I had to do that, Will Henry, but I could explain that to you for a week, and you wouldn’t get it. There’s two things: first, you’ve got to always be ready for somebody to try to do that to you, or worse, and somebody will try, believe me. Let’s say you stop a fellow for speeding. He might be the nicest, friendliest fellow you ever saw when you walk up to him, but you don’t know what he’s got in that car. He might have a trunk full of white lightning or a back seat full of some bank’s money. If you don’t know him, watch him. If you expect a fellow to hit you or shoot you, chances are he won’t get to. Second point is, don’t ever take no crap from anybody, and if you have to hit a man, hit him hard enough so you only have to do it once. Don’t you ever, ever let yourself get in a fight with a man. Your job is to stop fights, not get in ‘em. The way to stop a man fighting is to fix him so he can’t fight. After you’ve stopped one or two fights that way you’ll be able to stop a lot of ‘em just by speaking to ‘em. If you’re going to get in that position you have to keep an edge all the time.” He reached behind him and pulled out a small blackjack. “This is an edge. It’s got lead inside and leather on the outside, and you can hit a man on the head with it almost anywhere except the temples, hit him hard and not do him any permanent damage. And for a minute or two you can put the cuffs on him or get him in a car or a cell without any problem.”
    Skeeter set Will Henry, who was still having trouble breathing, on a nail keg and pulled one up for himself. “I know it seems unfair to hit a man with a blackjack when he isn’t holding anything himself, but you’ve got to get a new idea of what being fair is. I’ve got a reputation in this county for being tough and fair. It gets me reelected every four years, and believe me, if I wasn’t tough I’d never get a chance to be fair. Do you understand me, Will Henry?”
    “Yes,” said Will Henry, finally drawing enough breath to speak.
    “Another thing. Don’t ever threaten anybody. Don’t ever say to a man, ‘You come with me, or I’ll hit you with this blackjack.’ If he’s a problem, hit him, and he’ll come with you. If you’re always ready to hit a man first, then you’ll almost never have to draw a pistol, let alone use it. Now, I’ve heard some peace officers say that you shouldn’t draw your gun unless you’re going to use it. Well, that sounds tough, but it’s stupid. You can threaten a man with a gun, that’s common sense. You pull it out and you point it at his head and you cock it, and he’ll do pretty much what you tell him. Something else about the blackjack; it’s official. If you pick up a two-by-four and hit a nigger with it, he’ll hold a grudge and be a problem to you forever. But if you hit him with a blackjack—when he deserves it—well, that’s official to a nigger; he figures you’re just doing a job.”
    Skeeter paused for a moment. “Now, about guns. I’ve pulled my gun a dozen or fifteen times in eight years, and I’ve fired it at a man twice. Killed ‘em both. One of ‘em was about to try to kill me with a pistol, and I didn’t bat an eye; I just shot him. The other one was running from me, and I told him to halt, and he wouldn’t, and I shot him. I didn’t mean to kill the second one, just bring him down. I was aiming at the seat of his pants, but I hit him in the small of his back and cut his spine.” He looked away. “I didn’t lose any sleep over the first one; it was me or him. The second one hadn’t done much, though, just stole some tires from a filling station, but he was trying to escape and would have if I hadn’t shot him. I guess I didn’t