Extortion turns wise people into fools, and bribes corrupt the heart.” –Ecclesiastes 7:7 (NLT)
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“What about the rifles?” I asked, perhaps a little too sharply.
“Senor Miles, I think that one of them has been moved,” he paused, then continued on a little sheepishly. “Perhaps, even used. I plan on checking it when I get back to the office.”
Charlie and I had never bothered to lock up the rifles and shotguns that we kept in the rack in the office. Perhaps it was time for us to do so, but as of yet no one had bothered them, that is, no one until possibly now.
“Senor, after seeing it moved, I looked around the office for tracks from the outside. I am sorry, I should have checked the guest’s boots.”
I started pulling on my moustache. “You saw the rifle had been moved, and I reckon he could have taken off his boots outside. Hmmm,”
“When I get back I will check them, they will be dry by now but perhaps there will be mud or something else on them,” he said apologetically.
Molly was heading back to the table with a giant piece of chocolate pie. “It was the last piece left, and I saw no need to cut it into smaller pieces. Do you think you can handle all of it?” she asked with a grin.
Picking up his fork, he started to cut into the pie. The front door opened and in walked Doc who made for our table.
I got up, putting on my coat. After grabbing the Greener, I leaned toward Lucas. “Go ahead, ask him.”
Doc was pulling out the chair then plopped down. Lucas looked strangely up at me. “Ask him what?”
“Remember, the question that you were asking me? Now is the time to ask Doc. I’m headin’ up to the jail.”
“What question is that?” inquired Doc, pulling at his ear.
Lucas was frowning, his young forehead even had a crease in it. “Si, what question?”
I started to walk away, then stopped. “The one you were asking the other day, whether or not Doc had spoken with Methusaleh.” Then I hurried on out the diner not understanding any of the epitaphs coming from Doc.
Hurrying on up to the office, I wanted to check the rifle Lucas mentioned. He said he did not touch it, but noticed that it was not sitting properly in the rack. I wanted to see if it had recently been fired, then check the boots of the Feeney brothers.
The good Lord had been watching out for me. If it was one of the Feeneys; he probably hurried his shot then rushed back to the office. I had trusted them and hoped I was wrong. Both the men were in the cell lying on the cots. Lucius swung his legs off the cot sitting up after I walked in.
“What’s up, Marshal?” he asked, but I didn’t reply but went directly to the gun rack.
I quickly saw what Lucas had mentioned. Pulling the rifle from the rack, I smelled it then levered a bullet into the chamber. I was surprised when a spent casing popped out. For sure it had been fired recently.
Placing the rifle on one of the desks, I went to the cell room. “Let me see your boots!” I barked.
Mort was sleeping or feigning sleep, but Lucius spoke right up. “Our boots? What’s the reason for that?”
“Just place them at the cell door,” I ordered in a not so gracious manner.
Lucius pulled his off, then reached for Mort’s that were sitting on the floor at the foot of the cot. “What’s this all about?”
While Lucius was grabbing his brother’s boots I checked his. Nothing. Then looking at Mort’s I saw mud but it was dry, probably from yesterday.
I could tell that Lucius was perplexed, but then he spoke up, “Marshal, I plumb forgot, but this morning when you were out…