Paper Sheriff by Luke; Short Page B

Callie demanded to know what had gone on in her absence. He had told her of the trail boss’s visit to him, during which he gave Reese his opinion that there were rustlers in Sutton County. Reese, Callie said, didn’t think so but he had abjured her to keep silent lest foolish talk get around.
    â€œReese going to do anything about it?”
    â€œI couldn’t ask him any more for fear of seeming too curious, but I don’t think so.”
    Ty looked off across at the low clay hills, whose now dried out tops trailed faint banners of dust pushed by a persistent though gentle wind.
    â€œIf he’s not curious, then why you worried, Callie?”
    â€œI don’t rightly know, Pa. I’m just uneasy. Shouldn’t we move those steers?”
    â€œIn a week we will.”
    â€œShouldn’t we warn the boys?” Callie persisted.
    Ty snorted and looked pityingly at her. “Orv and his boys and Buddy, but nobody else. Reese was right. Enough people hear stock’s been rustled, they’ll start wondering where it’s hid. Then Reese will start looking, for damn sure.”
    Callie stood up. “Pa, let’s find Uncle Orv and see what he says.”
    â€œWhy, he’ll say the same as me,” Ty said testily. “You fool women panic too easy.”
    â€œAll right,” Callie said coldly. “If those cattle are found with my brand on them, who’s in trouble?” When her father looked at her in astonishment at her tone of voice, she held his glance without faltering.
    â€œYou trying to act like a president of a cattle company?”
    â€œYes,” Callie said flatly. “You and Uncle Orv set me up there and you better protect me.”
    Her father sighed and put the bridle down. “All right, Callie. We’ll go.”
    Together they walked to the corral where Ty cinched up Callie’s saddle and saddled his own mount. Watching him Callie knew that she had offended him, but every word she said had been true. If the cattle were discovered, their brands unhealed, it would be she who would be questioned after Reese looked up the brand registration in the company incorporation.
    Maybe he wouldn’t have to look up either, for although he had never asked her about the Hoad Land & Cattle Company, he might know of its existence. He could be sly, Callie thought resentfully. Then she wondered if he was being sly when he said he didn’t think there was any rustling in Sutton County. Was he baiting a trap and did he know more than he pretended? These were questions Uncle Orv could answer better than her father, for he was a shrewder man and, Callie admitted to herself now, more of a man than her father.
    As they approached Orville. Hoad’s sagging gate, Callie could see Min Hoad seated in one of the veranda chairs and at this distance Callie guessed by her actions that the big, raw-boned, half-breed Ute woman was shelling peas or stripping beans. Ty opened the sagging wire gate and passed Callie through, then, not bothering to mount, led his horse alongside Callie’s the fifty yards up to the veranda.
    Their greetings were pleasant enough, although Min, while counted a Hoad, was not really one of them. She was a square-faced, pleasantly homely woman who had done an adequate job of raising their children until Orville took them over and shaped them into Hoads. Quiet to tacturnity and shy, she was taken into the family’s councils but her opinions were never sought.
    Callie liked her and at any other time would have enjoyed chatting with her, but immediately upon dismounting now she said, “Min, is Uncle Orv here?”
    â€œHim and Buddy are asleep in the bunkhouse. They got in a couple of hours ago.”
    Callie turned to her father. “Pa, go wake Uncle Orv or I will.”
    â€œIf he’s sleeping this time of day, he needs to,” Ty protested.
    â€œWill you do it or will I?” Callie challenged.
    Grumbling under his