When the lawyer walked into the cell block he did not fill Clint with a lot of confidence. For one thing, he was eating a sandwich, and had crumbs down the front of his suit. And for another, the suit had seen better days.
Was the sheriff digging his grave deeper with this recommendation? Moreland did strike Clint as a man who loved his job, but hated his situation. He supposed he’d have to give this fellow a chance.
“Mr. Adams?” the man asked.
“That’s right,” Clint said. “And you’re Eugene Barkley?”
“That’s right.”
“You’re kind of … young.”
“I’m very young,” Barkley said, “and I’m broke. I need a case, and you need a lawyer.” The young man shrugged. “It’s a match made in heaven.”
“Maybe …”
Barkley stood just outside the cell, holding a leather briefcase, staring at Clint.
“Do I stay, or do I go?”
“Stay,” Clint said. “We’ll talk.”
After fifteen minutes Eugene Barkley looked at Clint and said, “You need help.”
“That’s why you’re here.”
“No,” the lawyer said, “you need a lot of help.”
“Are you telling me you’re not the one to give me that help?” Clint asked.
“Well, now, that depends.”
“On what?”
“Can you pay me?”
“Of course I can pay you.”
“Then like you said, “Barkley said, “let’s talk …”
Clint explained his predicament to Barkley, who listened intently without interrupting.
“I don’t get it,” he said, when Clint was done.
“What don’t you get?”
“Why don’t you take the job, deliver the girl and accept the five thousand dollars?”
“I don’t want to work for Vance Restin,” Clint said.
“Maybe he’d let me deliver her, then.”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Clint suggested. “Maybe that would get me out of here.”
“Maybe,” Barkley said, “we should look into some legal way of getting you out of here.”
“So you’ll take my case?”
“I will,” Barkley said. “But you should probably take my advice.”
“Which is?”
“Do the job,” Barkley said, “and while you’re doing it, I’ll be here working on our defense.”
“If I do the job,” Clint said, “I won’t need you to work on my defense.”
“Do you really think Vance Restin will drop the charges even if you do the job?” Barkley asked. “If you do you’re more naïve than I would’ve thought a man of your caliber would be.”
“If I don’t come back here after I deliver the girl,” Clint said, “– and that’s if I do the job – if I don’t come back here, what could he do?”
“I’m sure you’d have some wanted posters out on you in no time,” Barkley said. “I think this battle has to be fought on two fronts, Mr. Adams.”
Clint was starting to think that Eugene Barkley might be right. Vance Restin was not a man who could be trusted.
“Okay, then,” he said, “let’s talk about that.”
After the young lawyer left, Sheriff Moreland came into the cell block.
“The kid said you wanted to see me.”
“Yes,” Clint said, “first, I wanted to thank you for recommending him to me.”
“Me?” Moreland said. “Did I do that? I don’t remember.”
“Yeah, well, that’s fine,” Clint said. “Anyway, take a message to your boss.”
“My boss is the Mayor of the town.”
“Then take a message to your town’s number one citizen,” Clint said.
“And what would that message be?”
“Tell him … I’ll take the job,” Clint said. “Five thousand dollars to deliver his daughter to a university in Sacramento.”
“Five thousand, huh?” He didn’t move.
“Are you looking for a cut?” Clint asked.
“Naw,” Moreland said, “just wonderin’ what my price would be to give up my job.”
“Five thousand dollars for a hunk of time,” Clint said. “What do you think?”
Moreland touched his badge, thought a moment, then said, “I’ll deliver your message.”