True Grit - Charles Portis [22]
“Well, it is nothing to me one way or the other except that when we do get Chaney he is not going to Texas, he is coming back to Fort Smith and hang.”
“Haw haw,” said LaBoeuf. “It is not important where he hangs, is it?”
“It is to me. Is it to you?”
“It means a good deal of money to me. Would not a hanging in Texas serve as well as a hanging in Arkansas?”
“No. You said yourself they might turn him loose down there. This judge will do his duty.”
“If they don’t hang him we will shoot him. I can give you my word as a Ranger on that.”
“I want Chaney to pay for killing my father and not some Texas bird dog.”
“It will not be for the dog, it will be for the senator, and your father too. He will be just as dead that way, you see, and pay for all his crimes at once.”
“No, I do not see. That is not the way I look at it.”
“I will have a conversation with the marshal.”
“It’s no use talking to him. He is working for me. He must do as I say.”
“I believe I will have a conversation with him all the same.”
I realized I had made a mistake by opening up to this stranger. I would have been more on my guard had he been ugly instead of nice-looking. Also my mind was soft and not right from being doped by the bile activator.
I said, “You will not have a conversation with him for a few days at any rate.”
“How is that?”
“He has gone to Little Rock.”
“On what business?”
“Marshal business.”
“Then I will have a conversation with him when he returns.”
“You will be wiser to get yourself another marshal. They have aplenty of them. I have already made an arrangement with Rooster Cogburn.”
“I will look into it,” said he. “I think your mother would not approve of your getting mixed up in this kind of enterprise. She thinks you are seeing about a horse. Criminal investigation is sordid and dangerous and is best left in the hands of men who know the work.”
“I suppose that is you. Well, if in four months I could not find Tom Chaney with a mark on his face like banished Cain I would not undertake to advise others how to do it.”
“A saucy manner does not go down with me.”
“I will not be bullied.”
He stood up and said, “Earlier tonight I gave some thought to stealing a kiss from you, though you are very young, and sick and unattractive to boot, but now I am of a mind to give you five or six good licks with my belt.”
“One would be as unpleasant as the other,” I replied. “Put a hand on me and you will answer for it. You are from Texas and ignorant of our ways but the good people of Arkansas do not go easy on men who abuse women and children.”
“The youth of Texas are brought up to be polite and to show respect for their elders.”
“I notice people of that state also gouge their horses with great brutal spurs.”
“You will push that saucy line too far.”
“I have no regard for you.”
He was angered and thus he left me, clanking away in all his Texas trappings.
I ROSE EARLY the next morning, somewhat improved though still wobbly on my feet. I dressed quickly and made haste to the post office without waiting for breakfast. The mail had come in but it was still being sorted and the delivery window was not yet open.
I gave a shout through the slot where you post letters and brought a clerk to the window. I identified myself and told him I was expecting a letter of an important legal nature. He knew of it through Mrs. Floyd’s inquiries and he was good enough to interrupt his regular duties to search it out. He found it in a matter of minutes.
I tore it open with impatient fingers. There it was, the notarized release (money in my pocket!), and a letter from Lawyer Daggett as well.
The letter ran thus:
My Dear Mattie:
I trust you will find the enclosed document satisfactory. I wish you would leave these matters entirely to me or, at the very least, do me the courtesy of consulting me before making such agreements. I am not scolding you but I am saying that your headstrong ways will lead you into a tight corner one day.
That said, I shall concede that you seem to have driven a fair bargain