Fiddlefoot Read Online Free Page B

the dim figure of Judge Tavister halted on the sidewalk in the deep shade of the roadside trees. The Judge came out to the road and called quietly, “Frank,” and Frank kneed his sorrel over to the edge of the street.
    Judge Tavister was carrying his hat; in the almost unbroken darkness, Frank could not see the expression on his face.
    â€œWhy did you ask that question about Rob?” Judge Tavister asked him.
    â€œSomebody said Hannan isn’t sure Rob’s death was an accident.”
    â€œWhat else did somebody say?”
    Frank hesitated, reluctant to say this. “That Hannan might suspect me of his murder.”
    There was a long silence, and then Judge Tavister said, “Frank, what did you and Rob have that last quarrel about?”
    â€œMy general uselessness,” Frank said tonelessly. “He wanted me to work under Jess until I knew Saber’s business. I already knew it, and I wouldn’t stay around him.” He paused, groping for words, and then said wanly, “One thing led to another.”
    â€œFists?”
    â€œNo,” Frank said quickly. “He hit me, and I let him.” He was remembering now. “He said he was sorry he’d ever gone near the wagon train and found me. Said he was sorry the Utes didn’t get me along with my folks. He said they must have known I’d do more damage to the whites than fifty Indians, and that’s why they let me live. He said—” He hesitated.
    â€œYes?” Judge Tavister prompted mildly.
    Frank shifted in the saddle and said in a dull matter-of-fact voice: “He said before he buried my mother he looked for a wedding ring and couldn’t find it. She wore other rings, but no wedding ring. He said she looked as if she came out of a House—a cheap House.”
    â€œAh,” Judge Tavister said, a faint disgust in his voice. “Does Hannan have to know he said that?”
    â€œHe knows it,” Frank said shortly. “Rob said it in the bunk-house in front of the whole crew. I left then.”
    There was an unrunning silence, and then Judge Tavister said gently, “Why didn’t you stay away, Frank?”
    â€œCarrie,” Frank answered promptly.
    â€œThat’s the reason you should have,” Judge Tavister said softly.
    â€œThat’s the way you’ve felt all along, isn’t it, Judge?”
    â€œNo man likes to see his child unhappy,” the Judge said quietly. “He’ll change it if he can.”
    â€œYou can’t.”
    â€œYou’ll have a lot of offers for Saber,” Judge Tavister went on. “That always happens when a man dies. Take the best offer and get out. This is a big country—as I think you’ve proved to yourself.”
    â€œAnd run away once more,” Frank murmured.
    â€œYes. From what you’re bound to hurt.”
    Frank tried to see Judge Tavister’s face in the darkness and could not. He said slowly, “If I hurt her again, I’ll go.”
    â€œWhat if you can’t help but hurt her again?”
    Frank scowled, turning this over in his mind, making many things of it. “Speak plainer, Judge.”
    â€œAll right, what if Hannan decides rightly or wrongly that you murdered Rob. It could happen. You’ve got a reputation around here for being good-natured, good-looking and good-for-nothing, Frank, and people will envy you getting Saber. What if you wait it out in jail for a trial? The verdict doesn’t matter. What about Carrie then?”
    There was, Frank saw, a bitter truth in all this, and yet there was something else too that the Judge didn’t see. “If I sell Saber and drift, that’s admitting I’m afraid of what Hannan will turn up. It’s admitting I’m not worth much.”
    â€œI’m not interested in it.”
    â€œEven if I’m innocent?”
    Judge Tavister was silent a long, long moment, as if he were searching his mind for the