“Ah…aye, gov’na.”
Colonel Davenport rose to his feet and paced, his boots clacking against the hardwood floor. Lost in thought, he moved to a nearby window, where he stood silently gazing out over the parade grounds. “Mr. Hooper, that is your name, isn’t it?”
“Aye.”
“You must know that you have no jurisdiction here.”
“But—”
“And you have no authority to do more than bring this brother and sister back here for trial.”
“But—”
“That is not a federal warrant you have offered me as evidence.” Spinning away from the window, Colonel Davenport stepped across the room to stand behind his desk. “Five thousand dollars?” He took a seat. “That’s a mighty huge sum of money to offer for an attempted murder.”
“But like I was sayin’, the man should be dead by now, or right near. ’Sides, do it really matter? They tried ta kill ’im. An’ someone’s willin’ ta pay fer their return.”
The colonel squinted at the man. “Mr. Hooper, let us get one thing straight between us. It does matter. It’s a matter of the law, and I am here to preserve the law.”
“But I reckon they’ll get theirselves a fair trial back in good ol’ Mississippi.”
“Will they?” Colonel Davenport brought his gaze to Hooper’s. “Hear me. I will hold you personally responsible tobring the both of them back here to await trial—that is, if you do find them. They’ve several weeks’ advance on you.”
“But I gotta bring ’em back ta Mississippi ta Mister Riley.”
“What was that?”
Hooper thought for a moment. “Ta collect the bounty.”
“I see. Well, in due time. In due time.” Colonel Davenport dropped his gloves on his desk. “Now, that is all.”
“That is all?”
“Yes. That is all.”
Jack Hooper scowled at the colonel and gritted his teeth.Damn military. Damn colonel.
If he had the courage, he’d tell this officer exactly what he thought of him. But Jack Hooper hated confrontation. After all, why risk one’s neck when a shot in the back would do as well as anything?
The colonel glanced up from his desk. “Will there be anything else?”
Hooper scowled at the man, but all he said was, “Naw,” and slamming his hat on his head, turned and trudged toward the door.
Once outside, Hooper wasted no time in heading toward the livery where he had left his horse.
“This is my ’orse, I’ll be takin’ him now,” he said to the liveryman, and grabbing hold of his horse’s reins, he led the animal away from the fort, out onto the plains.
Damn the military and their laws, thought Hooper once again, as he stamped over the ground, looking for the beginnings of the Santa Fe Trail. Hooper had his orders from Riley, and they certainly weren’t to bring the brother and sister back to Fort Leavenworth.
But this colonel presented Hooper with a problem. Elmer Riley expected the girl delivered straight to him—the boy to be killed.
If Hooper didn’t deliver or if something went wrong, Rileywould put a bounty hunter on Hooper’s own trail. And Lord knows how many crimes Jack Hooper had committed to plague his everlasting soul—enough to fill out a good wanted poster.
Naw, he wouldn’t be bringing the brother and sister team back to Fort Leavenworth.
After all, this was the West. Out here anything could happen. Men were known to die, if not by Indians, then by as little as a simple accident.
Yep, in this land anything could happen. And perhaps he, Hooper, might see to it that this time it did.
