Free Miles to Little Ridge by Heath Lowrance Page B

much."
    "Inside, Sheriff."
    The Sheriff shrugged and went in. Miles followed him. The only furniture was the sawhorse, two battered wooden chairs, and a cluttered roll-top desk. The cell at the back was made of wood and didn't look strong enough to hold an unruly baby.
    The Sheriff sat down in one of the wooden chairs and propped his feet up on the sawhorse again. Miles showed him the warrant, and the Sheriff took it between stubby fingers and looked it over.
    "Edward Gandy?" he said. "Now I know you're loco, boy. Edward Gandy ain't no criminal."
    "He's wanted for robbery in two states," Miles said, noting the second 'boy.' "My sources have put him in or around Little Ridge. Now tell me, Sheriff—where do I find him?"
    The Sheriff shook his head, leaned over to spit on the ragged wooden floor. "I don't care if you are a U.S. Marshal, I won't have some Negro coming to my town and harassing my citizens. Edward Gandy ain't—"
    "Sheriff," Miles said. "I'm not going to argue with you. I've just ridden three hundred miles. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm in no mood. You're going to tell me where to find Gandy, and you're going to do it with a smile on your face, because you're just happy as hell to help. I'm going to ask you one more time. Where is Edward Gandy?"
    There was a knife edge in Miles' voice that caused the Sheriff to pause. The two men stared at each other for a long moment before the Sheriff dropped his gaze. He muttered under his breath, "Goddamn Marshals, comin' to my town, pushin' me around ..."
    Miles gave him a minute to get it out of his system. Finally the Sheriff said, "He lives with his daughter over by Ridge Creek. He's a farmer, has been for over three years."
    Miles nodded. "Good enough. Now what I need from you are two or three of your deputies. I'll be riding up there in about—"
    "No deputies. I ain't got any."
    "Okay, then. You and me."
    The Sheriff shook his head. "No, not a chance. I don't care if you're the President of these here United States. I ain't going up there to bother Edward Gandy. You want him, you're on your own."
    Miles laughed. "So be it. I'm a little doubtful you'd be much help anyway."
    The Sheriff said, "I don't know who you think you are, boy, but—"
    Miles kicked out at the sawhorse, sending it skittering across the room. The Sheriff's boots dropped to the floor and he nearly pitched over face-forward. He caught himself on the chair, and looked at Miles with a face gone slack and stupid with surprise.
    Miles said, "The name's not 'boy', Sheriff. It's Gideon Miles. U.S. Marshal Gideon Miles. I'd advise you to remember that."
    He turned and walked out of the office.
    * * *
    Under the awning, Miles paused and pulled out his pipe. He stuffed some tobacco in the bowl, lit up, and sucked smoke. Pipe clenched between his teeth, he let his gaze drift up the road, to the relative hustle and bustle around the store fronts and businesses. It wasn't Cheyenne, not by a long shot, but it was more civilization than he'd seen in over a week on the trail.
    Not far up, he spotted a livery stable. Smoking, he took the grullo's reins and started to walk it over.
    From his left, someone shouted, "Die, you black son-of-a-bitch!" and Miles saw a big, shirtless man hefting an ax coming at him.
    He didn't pause to ponder on the unexpected nature of it. Miles' right hand dropped to the Colt in his holster, but he knew instantly that the ax-wielding man was too close. Roaring, the stranger swung the ax, and Miles stepped back and dropped to one knee.
    The ax-blade swooped so close Miles felt the breeze of it along his jaw. From his low position, Miles jabbed with a sharp right and then a left into the big man's mid-section. Neither punch carried much power, but they were enough to cause the stranger to grunt and lose his footing. He got pulled along, stumbling, with the trajectory of his ax.
    Miles was up in a heartbeat. The attacker found himself facing away from his target, and Miles used the momentary