All Men Fear Me by Donis Casey Page A

thanks to Avey. I’ve told him a dozen he ain’t welcome. But he marched up here with a bunch of his cronies, bold as brass, and started a fight, so I told Dave to toss him out. He aimed to split Dave’s skull with that ax handle. Then that boy took it upon himself to even the odds.” Her tone was sullen. “I hate that Win Avey.”
    â€œYou want me to fetch Doc Perry for Dave?”
    Rose shook her head. “We’ll take care of him.” Dave was clutching his sore head and moaning.
    Scott rather liked Rose Lovelock, if that was really her name. She was a middle-aged woman, still attractive if somewhat faded. What little he knew of her life story was both interesting and depressing.“Do you want to press charges?”
    Rose did not look happy, but she shook her head again.
    Scott nodded. Having your clientele arrested for battery was not good for business. “I’m taking this one in for disturbing the peace. I’ll go out to Win’s house in the morning and arrest him.” he said. “I reckon you’re closed until further notice, Rose.”
    Rose straightened with indignation. “Me and the girls got to make a living, Scott.”
    â€œSorry. After this it’s best y’all lay low for a while. Now, I have to run this yahoo in.”
    As soon as they were gone, Rose turned toward Dutch Leonard, standing behind her on the porch, half-clad, with his arm around a soiled dove. “I warned you to keep your pals in line, Dutch. Find your other sidekick and get out. And don’t come back.”

Chapter Twenty
    â€œFor the total abolition of the crime, disease, and death-producing practice of rent, interest, and profit-taking as iniquities that…are now being imposed upon the working class of the world.”
    â€”Manifesto of the Working Class Union
    When they arrived at the jailhouse, Scott flung the brawler into a cell without ceremony.
    â€œWhat’s your name? I don’t know you.” Scott tried not to sound as homicidal as he felt.
    The man was blue-eyed, ill-shaven and shaggy-haired, dressed in worn overalls and a patched shirt. A tenant farmer, Scott decided. The toe was out of one of his boots. Scott wondered how he had managed to afford a night at Rose’s. Now that he could see the man in the light, Scott decided that he was younger than he had first thought. The man lowered himself gingerly onto a cot and fingered the knot on his head before he mumbled. “Pip James. It was that other fellow’s fault.”
    â€œIt always is. What was the ruckus about?”
    Pip’s lip curled. “We had a difference of opinion concerning the war, and then when the big colored fellow tried to throw him out, the jackass beaned him with his own axe handle.”
    â€œWell, I hope you learned to keep your opinions to yourself. Win is Secret Service and mighty eager to report contrary ideology. Somebody said you’re from Oktaha. Are you in town to hear whether your number gets drawn on Friday?”
    Pip looked up at Scott from under his eyebrows and said nothing for so long that Scott began to get a very bad feeling.
    â€œDid you register, boy? Tell me the truth, now.”
    Pip’s nostrils flared. “I ain’t volunteering to die for this illegal war.”
    A draft resister. Scott leaned his head against the bars. He was not wild about the idea of the draft himself. One of his four sons and his deputy, whom he loved like a son, had registered and would learn their fate on Friday. But his personal feelings had no weight here. He made no attempt to talk his prisoner into enlisting to avoid jail time. He could tell by the fire in Pip’s eyes that it would do no good. “I’d have let you out tomorrow for rioting, but now I’ve got to send you to Muskogee for resisting the draft. You know that, don’t you?”
    â€œI know it.”
    â€œAre you Working Class Union?” Scott asked the