King Blood by Jim Thompson Page B

asked.
    'Sure is, Marshal Harry. One that ol' Jim gave to Paw hisself.'
    'So you told me,' the marshal nodded. 'And what did I tell you? About bringing weapons into my office, that is?'
    'Gosh, Marshal Harry' Arlie ran a nervous finger around his collar. 'I plumb forgot, honest!'
    'If you forget again,' Thompson said softly, 'I'm going to be angry with you.'
    He flipped the knife suddenly. It landed point down, almost scraping Arlie's booted foot, the haft quivering with the force of the throw. Arlie tugged it out of the flooring, a little pallid beneath his tan. He shoved it as deep down into his boot as he could, making it as inconspicuous as possible.
    'Now,' Thompson said, 'I have no doubt that your brother's killing took place exactly as you've told me. It was self-defense. I also have no doubt, however, that it could have been avoided.'
    'But the son-of-a-bitch tried t'kill me, Marshal Harry! Been tryin' t'get me for a long time!'
    'Was he? Why didn't you report the fact to me?'
    'Because it wouldn't've done no good! I couldn't've proved nothin'!'
    'You wouldn't have had to. I'm sure a warning from me would have stopped Boz's attempts.'
    'But – but, god-dang it, Marshal -!'
    'Mmm-hmm. That isn't the King way of doing things, is it?'
    'No, it ain't, by God!'
    'But it will be from now on,' Thompson said. 'Your father is too old to change, and it's immaterial that he should at his time of life. But you, Arlie, and you too, sir' – he included Critch in his glance – 'you two must mature with this country, come of age with it, or cease to be a part of it. I mean that most sincerely, gentlemen. There will be no more taking of the law into one's own hands at King's Junction. If there is, I'll see to it that the person responsible goes to the gallows. Now, before you leave…
    He reached into his desk, took out a 'wanted' circular and passed it to Arlie, explaining that the woodcut pictures thereon had been drawn from descriptions of the criminals, and were probably inexact likenesses.
    Arlie let out an appreciative, 'Whoeee!' as he glanced at the circular. Then, frowning with the effort, occasionally faltering over the words, he read its inscription aloud:
    'Wanted for murder… Ten thousand dollars reward… Anne an' Eth, uh, Eth-el Anderson, al-alie, uh, a-lias Little Sis and Big Sis Anderson. Last seen near the town of Olathe, Kansas. Approach with caution, as subjects are known to have killed thirty – '
    Arlie broke off, shaking his head in disbelief. 'Now, God damn, Marshal Harry! You ain't gonna tell me that these cute little ol' gals killed thirty people!'
    'No,' Thompson agreed, 'the figure is incorrect. The bodies of seven more men have been discovered since that flyer was issued. Those two young women ran a roadhouse in Kansas. Any well-heeled male who stopped there was very apt to go no further. One of the sisters took him to bed, and the other one killed him.'
    'Holy Jeez-ass! For some o' that it'd damn' near be worth it! But how come I ain't read nothin' about this in the papers?'
    Marshal Thompson said that the story had been kept out of the newspapers with their cooperation. It was believed best to let the Anderson women think they were unwanted, meanwhile circularizing inns and other establishments serving the public.
    'As we piece the facts together,' he continued, 'Anne – that's the younger one – skipped out on her sister, taking their combined loot with her. Ethel – the older, smarter and harder of the two – apparently is hot on Anne's trail. So if you should encounter one, the other probably isn't far behind.'
    'Well, I'll be damned! An' you figure they're here in the Territory?'
    'They could be. It would hardly seem a likely place for a fugitive to head for.'
    Arlie promised to be on the watch for the murderous Andersons, and handed the circular to the brother.
    Critch took it – and stared. *c*
    _Why, the bitch had been on the train with them! She'd had to be! Might even have watched while