California -- Fiction; Distilling, Illicit -- Fiction; Ryan, Casey (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
"Bill Masters," said Casey grimly, "was not in Lund. His garage is
sold an' Bill's in Denver--which is a long drive for a Ford t' git
there an' back before Friday midnight. Yuh put a time limit me, Mr.
Nolan, an' nobody had Bill's address. I didn't foller Bill t' Denver.
I asked some others in Lund if they knowed a man named Kenner, and they
did not. So then I went huntin' booze that I could git without the
hull of Nevada knowin' it in fifteen minutes. An' Casey's got this t'
say: When yuh WANT hootch, it's hard t' find as free gold in granite.
When yuh DON'T want it, it's forced on yuh at the point of a gun. This
jug I stole--seein' your business is private, Mr. Nolan.
"I grabbed it off some fellers I knowed in Lund an' never had no use
for, anyway. They're mean enough when they're sober, an' when they're
jagged they're not t' be mentioned on a Sunday. I mighta paid 'em for
it, but money's no good t' them fellers an' there's no call t' waste
it. So they made a holler and I sets the jug down an' licks them both,
an' comes along home mindin' my own business.
"So I guess they 'phoned the sheriff in Vegas that here comes a
bootlegger and land 'im quick. Anyway, I was goin' t' stop there an'
take on a beefsteak an' a few cups uh coffee, but I never done it. I
was slowin' down in front uh Sam's Place when a friend uh mine gives me
the high sign t' put 'er in high an' keep 'er goin'. Which I done.
"Down by Ladd's, Casey looks back an' here comes the sheriff's car hell
bent fer 'lection (anyway it looked like the sheriff's car). An' I
wanta say right here, Mr. Nolan, that's a darn' good Ford yuh got! I
was follered, and 'I was follered hard. But I'm here an' they'
ain't--an' you can ask anybody if that didn't take some going'!"
In the darkness of the cabin Casey turned over and heaved a great sigh.
On the heels of that came a chuckle.
"I got t' hand it t' the L. A. traffic cops, Mr. Nolan. They shore
learned me a lot about dodgin'. So now yuh got the hull story. If it
was the sheriff behind me an' if he trails me here, they got no
evidence an' you can mebby square it with 'im. You'd know what t' tell
'im--which is more'n what Casey Ryan can say."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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