Davidson, Brick (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Sheriffs -- Fiction; Western stories
His opponent, Henry Stagg, known as “Hank,” had been considered more or
less of a joke as a candidate. He operated the stage lines from an
office in Silverton, where he could be found at nearly all times,
reciting his own deeds of valor.
Hank was tall and angular, with a raspy voice and a wonderful
vocabulary of profanity, gained from driving stage teams. He wore his
gun in a shoulder-holster, because his hips were too thin to support a
belt, and his favorite amusement was shooting magpies on the wing with
a thirty-thirty rifle. This latter branded him as a fairly good rifle
shot.
“They brought me some very good news,” said Brick. “When it comes to
bringin’ good cheer, they’re a fine flock of buzzards. Sun Dog County is
to be investigated by a professional detective and I’m to just go along
in my own dumb way and let him do the lookin’ through the knot-holes.”
“Is—thasso?” Silent exploded and his mouth remained open.
“Relax!” snorted Harp. “My gosh, anybody’d think by yore face that it
was in the dead of Winter instead of fly-time, Silent.”
“Hm-m-m! I’m dead amazed.” Thus Silent seriously.
“Settled fact,” grinned Brick. “I dunno who he is nor how many of ’em is
to come among us; so don’t question me. I didn’t know that the
commissioners took my job so seriously.”
“And they don’t even ask us to help him,” added Harp.
“Well, you hadn’t ought to let that worry yuh,” grinned Silent. “As far
as the detective is concerned, somebody will probably kill him before he
gets far into the mystery; but things are sure breakin’ bad for our li’l
sheriff.
“Lafe was talkin’ with ‘Soapy’ Caswell, and Soapy is kinda inclined to
the opinion that Brick ain’t exertin’ himself none to speak about. He
didn’t come right out and say it, but that’s the impression he handed
Lafe.”
“And he swings the vote of Silverton,” said Harp sadly. “He dang near
swings Sun Dog County, as far as that’s concerned. He owns the bank here
in Marlin, the Silverton bank and the Redrock bank; and when yuh own
enough banks, yuh kinda controls a lot of them X’s that folks mark down
on their ballot.”
Brick straightened up in his chair and reached for his tobacco.
“You two jiggers must ’a’ got up on the wrong side of the bunk this
mornin’, didn’t yuh? Mebbe I better order all flags at half-mast and put
crape on the door. All I’ve got to do is to beat Hank Stagg for the
nomination.”
“Yeah, that’s all,” said Silent dryly. “Just beat Hank for the
nomination, tha’sall. And then you’ve got to beat the nominee on the
other ticket. But let me tell yuh somethin’, red feller: If you don’t
put the deadwood on these stick-up jaspers pretty danged quick, you
couldn’t beat a drum.
“I ain’t raggin’ yuh, Brick. —— knows, I’m for yuh. But it’s a cinch
that there ain’t another man in Sun Dog County that can do more than
you’ve done; but folks don’t stop to consider that part of it. Yo’re
hired to catch criminals—so you’ve got to catch ’em, tha’sall.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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