"You was tak' a beeg chance."
"Oh, not so big. He was mad when he came into the saloon, an' I made
him a heap madder before I got through talkin' to him. Yuh can't shoot
good when yo're mad."
And Loudon grinned at Laguerre.
"You old sun-of-a-gun!" said his friend, admiringly.
That hearty soul, Judge Allison, brought the news half an hour after
the shooting that Luke Maxson was far from being badly wounded. There
were, it seemed, three bullets in Luke's right leg and two in his left.
And the left leg was broken.
At this last Loudon brightened visibly. He had feared that his
adversary had merely sustained flesh wounds. A broken leg, however,
would confine the amiable Luke to his bed for a period of weeks, which,
for the proper furtherance of Loudon's plans, was greatly to be desired.
Loudon began to fear for the safety of Judge Allison. Marysville was
not apt to take kindly the Judge's rather open espousal of the
stranger's cause. And Loudon liked Judge Allison. He felt that the
Judge was honest; that he had been duped by Block and Archer and the
others of their stripe; that, his eyes once opened to the true state of
affairs, the Judge would not hesitate to show the malefactors the error
of their ways.
In time Loudon intended to take the Judge into his confidence, but that
time was not yet. In the meantime, no evil must come to Judge Allison.
Loudon took the Judge aside.
"Yore Honour," said he, "ain't yuh just a little too friendly to me an'
my friend? We don't have to live here, but you do."
The Judge did not immediately make reply. He put his head on one side
and looked at Loudon under his eyebrows.
"In so far as I may," said the Judge at last, "I do what pleases me.
Even so, no man in the possession of his senses performs any act
without good reason. Regarding my reason for what little I did, I can
at present say, 'Cherchez la femme.' Ah, here comes the stage! I must
go to the postoffice. Come to my office in about fifteen minutes, Mr.
Franklin, and remember, '_Cherchez la femme_.'"
Loudon stared in perplexity after the retreating figure.
"'_Shershay la fam_,'" he repeated. "Now I'd like to know what that
means. _Shershay la fam_. Don't sound like Injun talk. An' he wants
to see me in fifteen minutes, does he? Maybe, now, he'll bear watchin'
after all."
At the time appointed Loudon entered the Judge's office. The Judge,
smoking a long cigar, his feet on the table, waved Loudon to a chair.
Loudon unobtrusively hitched his six-shooter into easy drawing position
as he sat down. He watched the Judge like a cat. The Judge smiled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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