The Deputy: Wednesday

Emmett and me were out on the prairie at dawn. He figured we had a better chance of catching the chicken thief if we hit the hills at first light.

‘He’s up there somewhere, just over that rise.’

‘Here’s where I was when he took a shot at me. Okay, I’m going up there. Stay here and take cover… and keep a close eye on that skyline. If you see any movement, start blasting.’

So I did as the sheriff said and watched closely till he disappeared over the rise.

An hour or more of seeing and hearing nothing sure got me fidgety. I wondered where the sheriff had got to. If he wasn’t drying out in the sun with his throat cut, he could have been halfway to Tascosa by then. I figured I’d waited long enough and decided to go up there after him, but even as I stood up and lit a cigarette, I heard him yelling.

‘Valance! Hold your fire, we’re coming down!’

As two heads popped up on the skyline, I squinted up my eyes and saw Emmett with a youngster. How young I didn’t realize till they got up close. Thirteen years old, I figured, and it looked like his pants had been around for most them, since they barely covered his shinbones. Trembling with fear, he sure wasn’t what I expected.

‘Is this our chicken rustler?’

‘This is him,’ said Emmett. ‘Says he’s been living rough since his pa left him out here a month ago.’

The kid said his name was Plato Gaines. Yup, Plato. Shame ain’t it? He didn’t strike me as being a troublesome kid. A scared one, sure, but I saw no meanness in him. Truth is I felt a mite sorry for him, especially when he started blubbing.

There was trouble in town when we got back; big trouble. The bank had been hit and a lot of angry people were out on the street. As soon as they laid eyes on Emmett they swarmed around him, demanding answers. 

‘Take the kid to Annie’s… let him eat whatever he wants,’ Emmett yelled above the hubbub.

‘Then what?’

‘Lock him up.’

It was late in the evening when the sheriff got back to the office. He just traipsed in, slumped in his chair and called for some coffee. 

‘We’re looking for a lone woman,’ he said, once he’d taken a couple of sips.

‘You’re kidding?’

‘It could have been worse. There must be ten thousand dollars in that bank and all she got was a sack of pennies. Can you believe that?’

‘Well I’ll be...’

‘Did you take your horse back to the livery?’

‘Yup, cost me a tip, too.’

‘You’ll get it back; I’ll put it on my expenses. How’s the kid?’

‘Alright, I reckon. He’s stopped blubbing now he knows we ain’t gonna hang him. We ain’t, are we?’

‘Well, he did take a shot at me. A judge might call that attempted murder.’

‘He was scared.’

‘So was I.’

‘What are you gonna do about it?’

‘Right now? Nothing. Let’s get some sleep. We’ll talk it over in the morning.’