Anatomy of a Lawman Read Online Free

Clint and bombard him with questions, he grabbed Buck’s arm and pulled him out of the saloon as well.
    “Who was that man?”
    “Parks? He’s nobody—”
    “No, the man in the suit,” Clint said. “Obviously he’s a member of the Town Council.”
    “Oh yeah, that’s Mr. Radke,” Buck said. “He owns a bunch of businesses around town. In the last election he ran for mayor and lost, but yeah, he’s on the Council.”
    “Is he going to be trouble?” Clint asked.
    “He just always has to have a say in what’s goin’ on,” Buck said. “He’ll make a lot of noise, but in the end he’ll go along with the Council.”
    “And how’s the Council going to react to Sheriff Harper passing his badge to me?”
    “Well, Doc’s on the Council and his word carries a lot of weight.”
    “More weight that Radke’s?”
    “Oh yeah,” Buck said, “a lot more weight than Mr. Radke’s.”
    Clint shook his head.
    “I better go over to the hotel and let Jack know what’s happening already.”
    “He’ll just be happy to see you wearin’ that badge . . . Sheriff.”
    “Yeah, well, let’s see just how long I’ll be holding on to it.”
     
    Clint knocked on the door of room eleven again. It was opened by Doc Foster, who looked at him with raised eyebrows.
    “Trouble already?”
    “Is he awake?”
    “No,” Foster said. “I gave him somethin’ for the pain and he’s out.”
    “The Town Council is apparently convening to decide if I should wear this badge or not.”
    “And whose bright idea was that?”
    “A man named Radke.”
    The doctor waved his hand.
    “Don’t worry about him,” he said. “I can overrule him.”
    “What about the rest of the Council?”
    “When they hear who you are, nobody will object—as long as you’re takin’ the same forty a month, that is.”
    “I’m doing this as a favor to Jack,” Clint pointed out.
    “You got the forty a month comin’,” the Doc said. “And you’ll earn it.”
    “So you’ll be at the meeting?”
    “Don’t worry,” Foster said. “I’ll see you there.”

EIGHT
    Clint went to the sheriff’s office to await word of the Town Council meeting. While he was there, he looked through Jack Harper’s desk, found some wanted posters. He was leafing though them when Buck Wilby came walking in.
    “I just did my rounds, Sheriff,” Buck said. “What should I do next?”
    “First, don’t call me Sheriff,” Clint said. “Just call me Clint.”
    “Okay, Clint. What do you want me to do next?”
    “What does the sheriff usually have you do?”
    “Um, just drift around town and keep an eye out for trouble.”
    And how often do you find trouble?”
    “Uh, not that much really,” Buck said, “except on weekends, when the cowpokes and drifters come into town and get liquored up.”
    “Okay, well, why don’t you just do what you usually do?” Clint said. “Meanwhile, give some thought to who in this town would be useful when the Graves gang comes back.”
    “Me?” Buck asked. “You want me to recommend somebody?”
    “You know the people in this town,” Clint said. “I don’t. Come up with some names and we’ll talk about them. Okay?”
    “Okay, Sher—I mean, Clint.”
    Buck went out the door and pulled it closed behind him. Clint looked down at the pile of wanted posters on the desk, then opened a drawer and put them away. He decided to check the weapons in the rifle rack, found them in need of cleaning. He was just about to begin when Doc Foster came in.
    “Hey, Doc,” he said. “How’s Jack?”
    “I’m takin’ him on the first stage tomorrow,” Doc said. “Then to the train. I’ll need some help carryin’ him from his room. I need four men, because we have to hold him steady.”
    “You got me,” Clint said, “provided I’m still here.”
    “About that,” Doc said. “You should walk over to the Council meeting with me . . . now.”
    “Fine,” Clint said, replacing the rifle in the rack. “Let’s get this over