“Two,” said Roaring. “I heard ’em both. There’s a chance for him to prove self-defense. Moran must have fired first.”
“That’s good,” whispered Moran. “I’m glad there’s a chance.”
“Oh, as far as that’s concerned, Conley was lookin’ for it,” said Regan coldly. “A Black Horse jury will look at it right.”
“Oh, damn you all!” gritted Jimmy. “That’s all you think about! Beatin’ the law. Damn you and your Black Horse juries! I never shot Conley.”
“That’s all right, Jimmy,” said Roaring. “Don’t yell.”
“Why would I?” Jimmy turned appealingly to them. “Don’t you understand? I—I—” he choked—“I’m goin’ to marry Dawn, if she’ll marry me. Would I harm her father?”
“Any man will shoot in self-defense,” said Regan.
Jimmy groaned and turned away. Roaring went into the bedroom, and Jimmy saw Bill Creswell signal him cautiously to make a getaway, indicating that there was plenty of room to pass between him and the door. Jimmy liked Creswell and he realized that Bill meant it all for the best. But Jimmy shook his head firmly and turned back to the window. Creswell shrugged his shoulders. When Jimmy looked back at Creswell, he pantomimed that Jimmy could take his gun, as he went out. Perhaps he thought that Jimmy didn’t want to go unarmed. But Jimmy declined, and Creswell sighed deeply. He had done the best he could for a friend.
It seemed ages to Jimmy before the doctor arrived, but in reality Hank Pitts and Mark Clayton had broken all speed records in getting old Doctor Shelley from Turquoise City to the ranch. They had taken him through the ford so fast that all three of them were drenched, and the old doctor was as mad as a hornet.
Roaring went into the bedroom with him while he made an examination and, in a few minutes, Roaring came back to the men, advising them all to go home.