Boys Life

shakin’ hands with the devil, but the devil I knew was better than the devil I didn’t know. Yeah, I believed him, Tom. I still believe him.”
    “So you knew where his hideout was all along. And there you were makin’ everybody believe you couldn’t find hide nor hair of him.”
    “That’s right. It’s near where Cory and the boys saw that box change hands. I honestly don’t know what was inside it, but I do know Gerald Hargison and Dick Moultry are Klansmen from way back. But now I’m a sinner and slime of the earth and I’m not fit to walk the streets with decent people.” Sheriff Amory directed his hard gaze at my dad. “I don’t need to be told I’ve messed things up, Tom. I know I was wrong. I know I’ve shamed the office of sheriff. And shamed my family, which is killin’ me when people I thought were our good friends look at Lucinda and the girls like they crawled out of a spittoon. Like I say, we’ll be leavin’ town before long. But I’ve got one last duty to perform as the elected sheriff of Zephyr.”
    “What might that be? Openin’ the bank vault for Biggun?”
    “No,” the sheriff said quietly. “Makin’ sure Donny goes to prison for murder. Manslaughter, at the very least.”
    “Oh,” Dad said, and I know he must’ve felt an inch tall. But he grew back quickly enough. “What’s Biggun gonna think about that? After he’s been payin’ you to lay off?”
    “Biggun didn’t pay me to protect a killer. And that’s what Donny is. I just thank God he didn’t kill Miss Grace, too. I knew Stevie Cauley. He might’ve been a tough guy, and he had his share of scrapes with me, but he was decent. His folks are good people, too. So I’m not gonna let Donny slither out of this, Tom. No matter what Biggun threatens me with.”
    “Has he threatened you?” Mom asked as Dad stood up to shift a fireplace log with the poker.
    “Yes. Warned me, is more like it.” Sheriff Amory’s brows merged, the lines between his eyes deepening. “Day after tomorrow, two marshals from the county seat are comin’ on the Trailways bus. It’s bus number thirty-three, and it comes in at noon. I’m to have all the transfer papers ready, and they’re gonna take custody of Donny.”
    The Trailways bus came through Zephyr every other day, on its way to Union Town. On rare occasions it stopped, under the little Trailways sign at the Shell gas station on Ridgeton Street, to pick up or disgorge a passenger or two. But most days it sped on, going somewhere else.
    “I found a little black book in a pocket under the driver’s seat of Donny’s car,” the sheriff explained. Dad fed another log into the fire, but he was listening. “It’s got names and numbers in it that I think have to do with gamblin’ on high school football games. Some names are in there that might surprise you. Not Zephyr people, but names you might know from the newspapers if you keep up with politics. I think the Blaylocks might have been payin’ a coach or two to throw games.”
    “My Lord!” Mom breathed.
    “Those two marshals are comin’ to pick up Donny, and I’ve gotta make sure he’s there to meet ’em.” Sheriff Amory ran a finger along the edge of his star. “Biggun says he’ll kill me before he lets me put his son on that bus. I figure he means to, Tom.”
    “He’s bluffin’!” Dad said. “Tryin’ to scare you into lettin’ Donny go!”
    “This mornin’ there was somethin’ dead on our front porch. I think… it might’ve been a cat. But it was all chopped to pieces and the blood was smeared everywhere and on our front door was written Donny won’t go in cat’s blood. You should’ve seen the girls’ faces when they saw that mess.” Sheriff Amory lowered his head for a moment, and stared at the floor. “I’m scared. Awful scared. I think Biggun’s gonna try to kill me and spring Donny out of jail before that bus comes in.”
    “I’d be more afraid those damned snakes would go after Lucinda and the girls,” Mom said, and I knew she was heated up about it because she hardly ever cursed.
    “I sent ’em to Lucinda’s mother this mornin’, after what happened. She called me around two o’clock, said they’d gotten there fine.” He lifted his face and looked at my father with a tortured expression. “I need help, Tom.”
    Sheriff Amory went on to explain that he needed three or four men to deputize, and that they’d all spend tonight, tomorrow, and tomorrow night at the jail guarding