by Zane Grey
Pecos spat as if to rid himself of the bitter restraint he must hold this day. “An’ now yu yellow-faced greaser dog! Get out! Get across the river! Hide in the brakes! … ’Cause if I ever lay eyes on yu again I’ll—kill yu!”
Amid a stunned silence the half-breed lunged around, head down like a blinded bull, and spreading the crowd, he disappeared. Pecos stood motionless a moment, until suddenly he relaxed. He flipped his gun. It turned over in the air to alight in his palm. Sheathing it, he turned to face the fuming judge.
“Not on our marriage program, Judge,” he said, with the old drawl edging into the ring of his voice.
“Hell, no! Not on my court proceedin’s at all. … Pecos Smith, whoever yu are, yu have a highhanded way.”
“Yes, an’ yu better savvy this,” retorted Pecos. “I’ve done yore little community a good turn. Thet man has been the bane of Eagle’s Nest. Yu heahed why I couldn’t kill him.”
“Smith, I’m not rarin’ aboot yore drivin’ Felipe off. But it’d been a better job if yu’d bored him instead of shootin’ fancy didos around him.”
“Ahuh. Wal, what’s eatin’ yu, then?”
“It’s agin the law, shootin’ heah. Contempt of court. An’ I’m compelled to fine yu, suh.”
“What?” ejaculated Pecos, completely floored.
Terrill came hurriedly from the door to catch his arm and press it. “Oh—Pecos!” was all she could falter.
“I said ‘contempt of court,’ ” repeated the judge, imperturbably. “I’m compelled to fine you.”
“Leapin’ bullfrogs! … How much, Judge Roy Bean, Law West of the Pecos, Justice of the Peace, Saloon-keeper, Bartender, an’ Parson, an’ Gawd only knows what else? How much?”
“I was aboot to say fifty dollars. But it’s seventy-five.”
“What’d it cost me if I’d plugged the breed?” inquired Pecos, sarcastically.
“I reckon my law on the case now reads one hundred dollars.”
“Yu got Don Felipe skinned to death!” yelled Pecos.
“Upon reflection the fine imposed for more contempt of court will be one hundred twenty-five dollars—not pesos.”
“Robber! Road agent!”
“One hundred fifty!” shouted Judge Bean, purple in the face.
Terrill gave Pecos a wrench that fetched his face round to hers.
“Pay him before he ruins us!” cried Terrill, and Pecos did not know whether she was bursting with mirth or alarm or both.
“Hullo, honey. Dog-gone! I forgot aboot yu. … Shore I’ll pay it,” he declared, whipping out the roll with magnificent gesture, and peeling off bills galore. … “Reckon I’m never goin’ to be married again. … Heah, Judge, buy yoreself some lawbooks an’ paint another big signboard in big letters: ‘Shell out, stranger, or yu cain’t get west of the Pecos!’ ”