Jim Gorman's Brand/Chapter 2

Gorman mounted the mare and pursued his way. He did not imagine that Bradey’s foreman would attempt to carry out his threat against the nester’s family until this, the tenth day, was well along, but he decided to take no chances and pushed his mount at good speed. The sheriff’s face was stern. He had entered office on the sudden death of the last incumbent of his office at the urgent request of certain prominent citizens and the force of circumstances crying for a strong hand. The late sheriff had been murdered and Gorman had brought the man in. Though the dead officer had been a personal friend of Gorman, the latter had recognized his weaknesses and he had found a lot of work to do. Six months had caused an exodus of crooked gamblers, horse thieves and cattle rustlers. It had cleaned up Vacada to the pitch desired by its citizens and Gorman had begun to consider his work done.

He was already contemplating resignation and the election of another sheriff. One matter only had delayed him, the appearance of a suitable candidate. Those in the field were politically affiliated and Gorman did not believe that a public officer should have his hands tied as these men were shackled. A new era was coming to the county, a new type of citizens. Between whiles, such men as King Bradey made all the hay they could, but Gorman had not had the time to look much into Bradey’s operations, nor any suggestion that it was especially necessary-until to-day. Now he resolved to investigate before he tried for the retirement and the vacation he had dreamed of, hunting, fishing, prospecting, a visit to his old-time partner, now married and in another State. Bradey’s herd was always large. He needed plenty of range and water, and it was evident that he considered himself strong enough to take and hold where and when he pleased.

He had been doing it unchecked and he was getting bolder. "We got to stick to the job a while longer, lady," Gorman said to the mare. "An’ so long as we hold it down, it don’t look as if there was room enough in the county for Bradey an’ me, not the way he’s tryin’ to handle things. Looks to me’s if this new foreman of his who eats in the ranch house an’ is so thick with his boss must be eggin’ King on. Looks to phone repair near me android as if there was somethin’ likely to be stirrin’, lady hawss, somethin’ stirrin’! In his clear, bright eyes there appeared a similar but stronger, fiercer light than that which had shone in the gaze of his deputy. The stern aspect of his face changed to a more contented one. Action, the war of his wits against a man of Bradey’s caliber, the prospect of trouble, these were things to which Gorman’s adventurous spirit reacted strongly.

He no longer regretted his deferred holiday. He had a hunch, a tingling hunch that ran along his veins like fire and ice in swift surges of sensation; that the affair of the nester was only the opening of troublous times. The closing of the spring, the advent of Moore and of Dave Lorton, brand-doctor, appeared more than accidental. If, as he began to suspect-secretly to hope, with the instinct of the born hunter-King Bradey was a crook on a big scale, a man without principles, a masterful bully using all weapons, all tactics, to pile up his fortune-his occupation as cattle dealer, also cattle raiser-gave him unbounded opportunities. "I sure," said Gorman softly, "will have to look up Bradey. The way he’s actin’ don’t look good to me. The mare responded. They had reached the mouth of a draw, a wide V narrowing into the foothills, coming out on a plateau at the foot of the first true cliffs of the range, a place of abundant feed, of water and some timber, not a large holding, but a desirable one for a man with small capital.

visit south shop
https://maps.app.goo.gl/cAKYMmsGriJV9ERt5