The Battle At Three-Cross Read Free Page B

Lance Tolliver was reminded of nothing so much as a tall, skinny, blond scarecrow. Even the gun belt at the deputy’s hips looked as though it might slip down around his knees at any instant.
    Perkins produced a small paper sack from a hip pocket. “Would you like a lemon drop?”
    â€œA what?” After the day’s experiences, Lance could scarcely believe his ears. It sounded too mild to be true.
    â€œA lemon drop.” Perkins thrust the bag toward Tolliver.
    â€œNot right now, thanks. I’ll finish my supper first.”
    â€œUh-huh. Lemon drops is right good for indigestion.” Perkins seated himself across the cell with his back resting against the wall. He shoved a couple of lemon drops into his mouth and made loud sucking noises while he watched Tolliver eat. “Fact is,” he added after a time, “lemon drops is good for nigh any ailment. They offset the acidity in one’s stomach.”
    Tolliver gulped. “Did I hear you right?” he ventured.
    â€œReckon you did. Anyway, that’s what a sawbonesin Kansas City told me one time. I always remembered just how he said it. Sounds genteel like, don’t it?”
    Lance swallowed some more coffee. “Sort of,” he admitted. He changed the subject. “Seems to me like I’m the only prisoner in your jail.”
    â€œY’are. Every crime wave in this town has been washed out for a long spell. Folks don’t start things with Ethan Lockwood enforcing the law like he does. You’re the first prisoner we had to entertain in a year of Sundays, seems like.” He crunched a lemon drop between his teeth and went on, “That’s just the trouble. With crime at a minimum, the taxpayers can’t see why a deputy is needed here. I reckon they figure Ethan can handle it all—and I reckon he can. Eventually I’m going to commence to begin looking around for another job. Say, you don’t look like a murderer.”
    â€œMuch obliged,” Lance said dryly. “Same to you. Did the sheriff tell you I was a murderer?”
    Deputy Perkins shook his head. “Not for certain. As a matter of fact, after he told me to come down here and feed you—he found me in the general store getting some lemon drops—he tipped me off I was to treat you like a guest. Didn’t think I heard him right at first. First time I ever knew him to act that-a-way. Y’ain’t got anything on him, have you?”
    â€œNot yet,” Lance commenced grimly “But hope——”
    The door between the sheriff’s office and the jail corridor opened. The deputy said, “Here comes Ethan now.” He scrambled to his feet, still holding the bag of lemon drops.
    Lance glanced at the open cell door and wonderedwhat the sheriff would have to say regarding that oversight. Apparently Lockwood was accustomed to such happenings. He strode into the cell, saying, “Oscar, there’s a lot of noise coming out of the Red Steer Saloon.”
    â€œThere won’t be long.” The deputy nodded. “I’ll go down and see can I quieten ’em a mite. See you later, Tolliver.” He popped a lemon drop into his mouth, thrust the paper sack into a hip pocket and sauntered leisurely out along the corridor.
    â€œAnd how he’ll quiet ’em,” Lockwood chuckled. Lance had left his seat on the bunk now. The sheriff came nearer, one hand outthrust. “Reckon I owe you an apology, Tolliver.”
    Lance took the hand but said cautiously, “Thanks. You must have discovered I didn’t have anything to do with the murder.”
    Lockwood laughed. “I knew that right along. You see, Tolliver, I had a letter from your outfit a couple of days back telling me to be on the lookout for you and give you all assistance possible. The instant you told me your name today I realized who you were. Didn’t know just what you were after but figured it might be as well