to . . . whatever the name is of the place he ran away from.â
âWhite Fork,â Donovan said. âSo?â
âYou send him back up there, heâs liable to get away before they can hang him.â
âYou mean put him on trial, donât you?â
The man Donovan was talking to waved a hand in dismissal and said, âPut him on trial, hang him, whatâs the difference? It all ends up the same way, with a killer dancinâ at the end of a rope where he belongs!â
âFirst you say theyâre gonna let him go, then you say theyâre gonna hang him. Make up your damn mind.â Donovan scowled at the men in front of him. âIâll tell you whatâs really goinâ on here. You fellas are bored! You donât want those folks up in White Fork to have all the fun of stringinâ up a killer. You donât care if Tylerâs guilty or innocent, you just want to see him hang!â
A stunned hush fell over the crowd at that bitter accusation. After a moment, one of the men said, âHell, Chet, if that was true, itâd make us terrible people.â
âDamn right it would. And I know better, because Iâve knowed most of you for the whole seven years Iâve been here. Youâre not terrible. You just let yourselves get stirred up. And now youâre gonna settle down, go home, and forget about all this.â
A broad-shouldered man with a surly expression on his rugged face said, âAny man whoâd kill a defenseless girl deserves to die!â
âYouâll get no argument from me about that, Hobson, but it ainât up to us to see it done. Now, are you gonna back off, or are we gonna have trouble here that weâll all wind up regrettinâ?â
Luke sensed that the issue hung in the balance. These men were starting to see the error of their ways, but with the stubbornness of typical Westerners they didnât want to admit that theyâd been wrong.
Maybe he could tip the scales, he decided. He stepped into the edge of the light that came from the open doorway and raised his voice to say, âBesides, gentlemen, the marshal and I have you in a crossfire, if it comes to that. Between his shotgun and my Remingtons, things can get very ugly, very fast.â
âItâs that bounty hunter!â a man said.
The burly man called Hobson turned and sneered at Luke.
âWhatâs the matter, bounty hunter?â he asked. âAfraid if we take care of Tyler, you wonât get your reward?â
âThatâs not even a consideration right now,â Luke said, mostly honestly. âLynching is murder! If you string up Tyler, whether he deserves it or not, youâll be killers. Only it wonât be just an accusation. Itâll be a fact.â
âIâm done with this,â one of the men suddenly muttered. âIâm going home.â
âMe too,â another one said, and as Luke had seen many times before, once the mob mentality began to crack, it fell apart in a hurry. One after another, the men strode off in different directions into the night, until only Hobson and a couple of others were left.
âYou fellas might as well go on home, too,â Donovan told them. âYou can see for yourselves that there ainât gonna be any lynchinâ tonight.â
âNever thought Iâd see you sidinâ with a damn bounty hunter, Donovan,â Hobson blustered. âOr protectinâ a killer, either.â
âIâm protectinâ the law, thatâs all.â Donovan glared at Luke. âAnd I donât much like what Iâm doinâ right now, either. I just got crowded into it.â
âWell, itâs a sad day for Bent Creek, thatâs what it is.â
âGo back to your blacksmith shop,â Donovan snapped. âAnd Iâll try to forget about you runninâ your mouth that way.â
The three men finally turned away from the open
Major Dick Winters, Colonel Cole C. Kingseed