Free Deadman Canyon by Louis Trimble

judge’s interests first.”
    Damson said slowly, “You’re going to fix it to look like Roddy shot Coniff to keep him from telling Belden it was the judge hired him to do the sniping?”
    “I’m going to do more than that,” Vanner said. “By the time I’m finished, you won’t own just a part of the valley. You’ll own the whole of it — and the town as well.”
    He stepped closer to Damson and lowered his voice. “Why do you think I’ve had men coming in here these last few days? By tomorrow night we’ll have a dozen top gunhands working for us. If the locals won’t start a vigilante committee to get rid of Roddy, then the new men will. I have it all arranged.”
    “I don’t like this bringing in hardcases,” Damson grumbled. “What happens if they get out of hand?”
    “I can control men!” Vanner said flatly. He looked coldly at Damson. “Have you a better idea? Can you think of another way to protect all the work we’ve done so far? Maybe you’re satisfied to take what you’ve got now and let Belden have the rest?”
    “No, by God!” Damson shouted. “If we don’t do nothing else, I want Belden out of the way.”
    “I told you that I’m taking care of him too,” Vanner said. “You send Marnie and Pike in to see me. I have a job for them.”
    He smiled his thin, cold smile. “There’s one thing you can count on — by moonrise tomorrow night, Belden will be dead.”

IX
    C LAY PUSHED Bert Coniff through the jailhouse door and into the sheriff’s small office. Roy Ponders rose from his neat desk and stared in bewilderment from Clay to Coniff.
    “Here’s your sniper,” Clay said quietly. He unwound the rope from Coniff’s body.
    Coniff rubbed his hands over his arms. “That’s a lie!” he cried. His confidence seemed to have come back now that he was no longer alone with Clay. “I was up hunting me a deer and — ”
    “I have proof,” Clay interrupted, He told Ponders about the heelprints he’d found.
    “That don’t mean nothing!” Coniff said.
    “And this time he won’t get a chance to rub out the signs he left,” Clay finished. “You come up to the mountain tomorrow and bring Bert’s right boot along. We’ll see how much it means.”
    Ponders still stood quietly, his expression troubled. “For your sake, I hope you’re right,” he told Clay. “Bringing false charges can be mighty serious.” He frowned. “But for the judge’s sake — ” He broke off and shook his head. “Bert Coniff’s been with the Winged L for better than five years,” he went on. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”
    Clay nodded, understanding what was going on in the sheriff’s mind. He said, “I’ve been thinking of that all the way in here. And the only answer I could find is that Bick Damson’s money got to Bert.”
    “Damson isn’t a killer,” Ponders protested. “He wants you out of the valley, but that doesn’t mean he’d try to kill you.”
    Clay took off his hat and dropped in on the sheriff’s desk. He poked a finger at the bullet burn on the crown. “This is how close Bert came today,” he said. He told Ponders about meeting Marnie and Pike a few days before.
    “How else do you add it up, Sheriff?” he demanded when he’d finished.
    Ponders said, “I haven’t got evidence enough yet to add up anything.” He looked at Coniff who had been standing sullenly since his outburst. “What about it, Bert? Did Damson hire you?”
    “I got nothing to say,” Coniff replied. “You ain’t about to believe anything but what Belden here tells you.”
    Ponders flushed. “It isn’t my job to believe or disbelieve yet,” he said stiffly. “It’s my job to find out the truth.”
    Coniff grunted surlily. Clay said, “Maybe he’ll talk to the judge. I stopped by his house but there was no one around.”
    “He and Tonia and Tom Roddy all went out to the ranch,” the sheriff explained. He frowned again. “If this proof you claim to have holds up, the judge