This Violent Land Read Online Free Page A

Cliff was go to the sheriff’s office to let the local lawman know he was in town. “Sheriff Donovan, I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Smoke Jensen. Marshal Holloway sent me. He said you might need some help.”
    Donovan was a lean, gray-haired, competent-looking man who had a questioning look in his eyes as he raised his head from the paperwork spread out on his scarred old desk and examined Smoke. “Pardon me for saying this, Deputy, but aren’t you just a tad young for the job?”
    â€œI was even younger when I rode with Asa Briggs during the war. Colonel Briggs never questioned me. And neither did the Yankees I fought with.”
    â€œI heard of Asa Briggs. Him and Quantrill and Bloody Bill Anderson and Little Archie Clements. So you rode with that bunch, did you?”
    â€œNot with all of ’em. Just with Briggs.”
    â€œWell, I wore the blue myself, so I don’t cotton to ever’thing those boys did.” Donovan shrugged. “But I reckon if you rode for them, you’ve got some sand about you. Just how much sand you have is the question.”
    â€œI’ve got enough sand to kill someone who’s trying to kill me,” Smoke replied.
    Sheriff Donovan stroked his chin and studied Smoke for another moment or two, then a smile spread across his face and he stood up and stuck his hand out across his desk. “Do you know what, Deputy? I expect you do. It’s good to see you, and I thank you so much for coming out here, all the way from Denver. Did you say your name was Smoke?”
    â€œIt’s really Kirby, but my friends call me Smoke.”
    â€œI know it’s quick, but I’d like to consider myself a friend, Smoke. My name is Emerson.”
    It felt a little odd calling a man that much older than him by his first name, but Smoke nodded. “Emerson, if I understood Marshal Holloway correctly, you’re having a problem with cattle rustling.”
    â€œYeah, we are. Big-time. The person behind it is a man by the name of Stan Morgan, though he goes by the moniker of Red. The rustling is so bad that a lot of ranchers are losing their spreads, and it just so happens that Morgan is the one benefiting from it. He’s buying up land and cattle at less than half of what they are worth. And the hell of it is, Morgan has half the people in this town believing he’s innocent. Why, just last year he was elected president of the Cattlemen’s Association.”
    â€œDo you know for a fact that he’s behind it?”
    Donovan opened the middle drawer of his desk. “I’ve got signed affidavits here from two men up in Grand County who confess to buying stolen cattle from Morgan.”
    â€œThey confessed to it?”
    â€œThey didn’t have much of a choice. The sheriff’s deputy up there posed as a dealer and caught them dead to rights.”
    â€œIf you already have those confessions, why don’t you arrest Morgan?”
    â€œWe have an election for sheriff coming up soon, and Morgan has already announced that he’s running against me. If I arrested him, too many people would think it’s just a matter of politics. But since Colorado is just a territory and not a state, you, as a deputy federal marshal, will have jurisdiction anywhere you go, whether he’s committed a violation of a federal statute or not.”
    â€œYes, Marshal Holloway explained that to me. Do you have any idea where I might find the man?”
    â€œI saw him and Lucas going into the Ace High Saloon about half an hour ago. I’m sure he’s still there.”
    â€œLucas?”
    â€œLucas Babcock is his right-hand man,” Donovan explained. “He also does a lot of his dirty work. When somebody needs to be intimidated, Babcock is generally the one who gets sent to intimidate them.” The sheriff hesitated, then went on. “Listen, if Morgan resists arrest, don’t push him just yet. As long as I have you to