Read Online Bowdrie's Law (Ss) (1983) by Louis L'amour - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Louis L'amour
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was a good setup," Bowdrie replied mildly. "Sheriff Borrow told me about it."
"We've tried very hard to build a good community here. That's why we all contributed to the church and the school."
"That makes sense." Bowdrie smiled. "A good community is a prosperous one. One with money around."
John Bishop threw hirh a sharp glance, as if trying to see meaning behind the comnent.
Bowdrie's expression was innocent.
"You're ranching yourself, are you not?" Bowdrie inquired. "Horse ranching, I think?
I've noticed some fine horses around town, some with plenty of speed."
Bishop did not reply. His fingers gripped the cup Ellen had brought him.
"By the way," Bowdrie continued. "What's Red doing now?" The fingers on the cup tightened.
Bishop looked up, and the pretended friendliness was gone from his eyes. "He's ranching in Sonora." Bishop pushed back his chair. "I'll see you later."
He stood up and turned to go, but Chick's voice stopped him. "By the way . . ." Bowdrie's tone was gentle. "Don't leave town and tell your brother not to."
Bishop turned sharply around. "What do you mean by that? I told you ..." He paused, gaining control of himself. "I am beginning to see what you have in mind, but it won't work, Bowdrie. Don't try to frame me or my brother."
Bowdrie got up and stepped past him to the counter where Ellen was standing. "Let me treat Mr. Bishop," he said cheerfully. "I enjoy doing it. In fact, I plan to arrange for all his meals.., as long as he will need them!"
"Don't start anything you can't finish!" Bishop's eyes were mean. "I am a friend of the governor!"
Bowdrie smiled. "Perhaps, but is he your friend?"
Bishop slammed the door and Chick smiled at Ellen. "You know, I always did like a girl with freckles on her nose!"
He walked outside and glanced along the street. He was displeased with himself. He had not intended to push Bishop so far, although in his own mind he was sure he was merely a smooth crook. Under the guise of being a public-spirited citizen he could have planned and pulled off this robbery without being suspected. What the case had needed was a fresh viewpoint, someone from outside the town, unimpressed by Bishop.
The worst of it was that Bowdrie had pushed too far without a bit of proof. He was sure that Bishop and his brother had engineered the robbery and killed Josh Phillips.
Moreover, he was sure they had tried to kill him, but he could prove nothing. Yet Bishop was worried; that much was obvious.
Coker was loafing in front of the saloon. "Get on your horse and light out of here,"
Chick advised. "The first telegraph station you hit, wire to McNelly. Ask him to come runnin'." "You've been talkin' to Bishop?"
"He's our man, I'm sure of it."
"I've been thinkin'. It's possible. Nobody would notice extry horses over there, nor a few extry men around. He carries a stock of grub and he's the only place aside from the restaurant which could feed men for more than a day or two."
"I'm going to see Borrow, but you'd better get out fast. I've a hunch my talk with Bishop will blow the lid off. He's supposed to be smart, but doesn't have sense enough to just sit tight."
The sheriff's office door was closed, but Bowdrie turned the knob and stepped in.
He stopped, the door half-closed behind him. Just beyond the corner of the desk and inside the bedroom door Bowdrie saw a pair of boot toes turned up.
He sprang past the desk and stopped with his hands on the doorjamb. On the floor, lying on his back, was Sheriff Walt Borrow, the manner of his death obvious. Under his breastbone was the haft of a knife.
Bowdrie stopped and touched the dead man's hand. It was cold. He straightened up and glanced around. The picture became clear when he saw the chair in the shadows near several coats hung from a clothes tree.
Crossing to the chair, Bowdrie seated himself. He was facing the doors but well back in the shadows. Whoever sat in the chair would see whoever came in from the street, but Borrow, coming
"We've tried very hard to build a good community here. That's why we all contributed to the church and the school."
"That makes sense." Bowdrie smiled. "A good community is a prosperous one. One with money around."
John Bishop threw hirh a sharp glance, as if trying to see meaning behind the comnent.
Bowdrie's expression was innocent.
"You're ranching yourself, are you not?" Bowdrie inquired. "Horse ranching, I think?
I've noticed some fine horses around town, some with plenty of speed."
Bishop did not reply. His fingers gripped the cup Ellen had brought him.
"By the way," Bowdrie continued. "What's Red doing now?" The fingers on the cup tightened.
Bishop looked up, and the pretended friendliness was gone from his eyes. "He's ranching in Sonora." Bishop pushed back his chair. "I'll see you later."
He stood up and turned to go, but Chick's voice stopped him. "By the way . . ." Bowdrie's tone was gentle. "Don't leave town and tell your brother not to."
Bishop turned sharply around. "What do you mean by that? I told you ..." He paused, gaining control of himself. "I am beginning to see what you have in mind, but it won't work, Bowdrie. Don't try to frame me or my brother."
Bowdrie got up and stepped past him to the counter where Ellen was standing. "Let me treat Mr. Bishop," he said cheerfully. "I enjoy doing it. In fact, I plan to arrange for all his meals.., as long as he will need them!"
"Don't start anything you can't finish!" Bishop's eyes were mean. "I am a friend of the governor!"
Bowdrie smiled. "Perhaps, but is he your friend?"
Bishop slammed the door and Chick smiled at Ellen. "You know, I always did like a girl with freckles on her nose!"
He walked outside and glanced along the street. He was displeased with himself. He had not intended to push Bishop so far, although in his own mind he was sure he was merely a smooth crook. Under the guise of being a public-spirited citizen he could have planned and pulled off this robbery without being suspected. What the case had needed was a fresh viewpoint, someone from outside the town, unimpressed by Bishop.
The worst of it was that Bowdrie had pushed too far without a bit of proof. He was sure that Bishop and his brother had engineered the robbery and killed Josh Phillips.
Moreover, he was sure they had tried to kill him, but he could prove nothing. Yet Bishop was worried; that much was obvious.
Coker was loafing in front of the saloon. "Get on your horse and light out of here,"
Chick advised. "The first telegraph station you hit, wire to McNelly. Ask him to come runnin'." "You've been talkin' to Bishop?"
"He's our man, I'm sure of it."
"I've been thinkin'. It's possible. Nobody would notice extry horses over there, nor a few extry men around. He carries a stock of grub and he's the only place aside from the restaurant which could feed men for more than a day or two."
"I'm going to see Borrow, but you'd better get out fast. I've a hunch my talk with Bishop will blow the lid off. He's supposed to be smart, but doesn't have sense enough to just sit tight."
The sheriff's office door was closed, but Bowdrie turned the knob and stepped in.
He stopped, the door half-closed behind him. Just beyond the corner of the desk and inside the bedroom door Bowdrie saw a pair of boot toes turned up.
He sprang past the desk and stopped with his hands on the doorjamb. On the floor, lying on his back, was Sheriff Walt Borrow, the manner of his death obvious. Under his breastbone was the haft of a knife.
Bowdrie stopped and touched the dead man's hand. It was cold. He straightened up and glanced around. The picture became clear when he saw the chair in the shadows near several coats hung from a clothes tree.
Crossing to the chair, Bowdrie seated himself. He was facing the doors but well back in the shadows. Whoever sat in the chair would see whoever came in from the street, but Borrow, coming
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