Longarm - Longarm. Part 19

"Yes. She obviously feels scorned by you. Tell me, did she flirt with you, when first you met?"

"Well, sort of."

"There you go. And being a man who'd be too much of a gentleman to take the likes of her seriously, you likely laughed at her pathetic attempts to turn your head."

"Now that you mention it, I did have a chuckle or two at her expense."

"She's been flirting with Timberline and some of the others. I told him what she was and he said I was probably right. You don't reckon she'd be able to seduce any of our party, do you?"

"Not with her husband handcuffed to her and the key in my pocket."

"I know most of the boys pretty well, but some of them are young and foolish, and she's not bad-looking, in her cheap, hard way. You're probably well-advised to keep them chained together. She'd do anything to get away."

"I'd say you were right on the money, ma'am. But we got Timberline and over two dozen others guarding 'em. So I reckon they'll be with us as we ride into Salt Lake CitY."

"Which one do you reckon will hang for the murders, the trollop over there or her poor little husband?"

"Don't know. Maybe both of 'em, if they get convicted. "They're both sticking tight as ticks to their innocence."

"You think the woman did the shooting, don't you? It took me a few minutes to figure out what you meant about that.30-30 rifle. Won't you need that as evidence?"

"I could use it, but I made a dumb move back in Crooked Lance when I jawed about it in front of everybody. I suspicion the rifle's as well hid as the bodies, by now. They both packed S&W.38s 'til Timberline took them away."

"He's so easy to please. I do think Timberline's starting to like you, Longarm."

"Well, most boys like to feel important in front of a pretty gal. He's never really gone for me, serious. Them few brags and swings were sort of like walking a picket fence. Not that I blame him, all things considered."

"I thank you for the compliment."

"Just stating the facts as I see 'em, ma'am."

"Stop flirting. You know it fl.u.s.ters me. There's something else I've been wondering about."

"What's that, ma'am?"

"If there is one thing I've learned you're not, it's a fool, Longarm. You played a foxy grandpa on that Mountie, didn't you?"

"Did Portia Caldwell give away anything about government business while the two of you jawed about me?"

"She didn't have to. I figured out why you were so calm and collected when Sergeant Foster rode off like a thief in the night with the body of that man we'd been holding. He wasn't Cotton Younger at all, was he?"

Longarm laughed and said, "You weren't behind the kitchen door when the brains got pa.s.sed out, Miss Kim. I told you all in Crooked Lance you were wasting a lot of time by holding out on everybody over that fool reward. If you'd sent him on to Cheyenne right off, we'd have all known it sooner."

"But the Mountie still thinks he's packing the real Cotton Younger off to Canada? Oh, my, that's rich!"

"Might be getting ripe, too. I wonder if he'll smoke him, salt him, or just hang tight and tough it through. h.e.l.l of a long ways, considering it's summer."

"You waited until captain Walthers came and left, satisfied that another man had his deserter. You are the sly one, but why did you do that?"

"Why? Had to. Had to whittle it down to where I was the only lawman left. These jurisdictional matters can be a real pain, as you may have noticed when you were still in the game."

"I'm sorry now that we were so dumb about it all. I know we'd have been tricked out of the reward some way, even if we had been holding the real Cotton Younger. Would you mind telling me who we were holding, all that time?"

"He was almost who he said he was. His real name was Tinker, 'less his dying confession was another lie. Doesn't seem likely, though, considering some of the other things he confessed to. there was no reward on him. So despite our past misunderstandings, you'll have to settle for the rising beef market."

"I feel like such a fool! Imagine, holding an innocent boy and almost seeing him hung improper!"

"Don't be too hard on yourself, ma'am. I don't go along with improper hangings. but it turned out all right in the end. As for him being innocent, he wasn't Cotton Younger, but he wasn't all that innocent, either. Your friends were right to grab him as a cow thief, 'cause that's what he was. He wasn't out for your particular cows, but he wasn't packing that running iron for fun, either."

"Some of the boys are worried about the fact that one of them shot him before we got, well, more friendly-like. I told them you'd said you'd forget about it when we all rode into Salt Lake City. Can I take it I told 'em true?"

"Well, I never forget much, but I overlook a few things. My report will say he got shot trying to escape, which is close enough to the way it happened. No way on earth we'll ever know just whose round finished him, and most of you were shooting at him, as I remember it."

"You're very understanding. I'm truly sorry if i seemed snippy when first we met. But one thing puzzles me. When you first rode into Crooked Lance, you said you weren't going back without Cotton Younger."

"I know what I said, and I meant it. But as you see, it wasn't Cotton Younger you were holding. It ain't my fault I can't make good my brag. The man we were all fighting over answered Cotton Younger's description, but he was somebody else. Meanwhile, half a loaf is better than none, and I am taking in the killer of Deputy Kincaid. So it'll most likely pay for my time and trouble."

"Longarm, who do you think you're bulls.h.i.+tting?"

"I beg your pardon, ma'am?"

"Come on, I've gotten to know you, and you are not the wide-eyed country b.u.mpkin you pretend to be! You have no intention of going back to Denver without Cotton Younger, have you?"

Longarm laughed and said, "That's true enough, if I can lay my hands on the cuss, but who do YOu suggest I pick to fit my warrant?"

"I don't know how I know this. Maybe it's because there's something sort of smug crawling around in them innocent eyes when you don't think I'm looking. But I think you're too satisfied about a job well done. I think you know where Cotton Younger is!"

Longarm's mouth went dry as he forced himself to meet her level questioning gaze, but his voice was calm as he shrugged and said, "You have a lively imagination, ma'am. I told you the man we all thought was Cotton Younger wasn't. That don't leave us with anyone who answers to his description, does it?"

"I thought maybe you had your eye on one of the hands from Crooked Lance."

"Do tell? What makes you say that?"

"The midget and the woman likely gunned those other lawmen, like you said. If they were sent out to free the man they thought was Cotton Younger, that makes sense. The other man, the man who was a member of the James-Younger gang could have only been killed by the real Cotton Younger!"

"Keep talking."

"Don't you see? The Hankses are private detectives who'd do anything for a dollar. That old man pretending to be a Canadian would have been valuable to them as an ally. Why would they have gunned him?"

"Beats me. Why would Cotton Younger have done it, if Cotton Younger wasn't the man in your jail?"

"That's simple. The real outlaw's been hiding out in Crooked Lance all this time. You know we're way off the beaten track, and ordinarily, no one would ever look for anyone there. Then a man answering to his description got picked up by us vigilantes and you know the rest. All h.e.l.l broke loose. Old Chambrun-what's-his-name came busting in to free his kinsman, learned we had the wrong man, and started to light out. That's when the real Cotton Younger might have killed him, to shut him up for good. The Mountie saw through the fake Canadian accent. No telling how many ways a reckless old outlaw could have been caught, later, knowing the whereabouts of a wanted man who aims to lay low in Crooked Lance for keeps!"

Unfortunately, she was. .h.i.tting d.a.m.ned close to home, considering she hadn't heard the dying Sailor Brown's last, wondering protest about being gunned unexpectedly.

Longarm chuckled and said, "You'd have made a great detective yourself, Miss Kim. But you're forgetting something. n.o.body hereabouts fits Cotton Younger's description. Timberline's too big and the midget is a mite short. I don't know exactly what color hair you and that other gal might have started out with, but even if it should be cotton-blonde, the feller I'm after is a man." He didn't think he should tell her how he knew that both she and Mabel Hanks were definitely female, so he added, "I've looked all the others over, more'n once. There ain't one in a whole score of riders that would fit the wanted posters for Cotton Younger, real or not."

"Half the men in Crooked Lance aren't here."

"I know. If there's anything to your suspicion, I might look the entire population of Crooked Lance Over with a hand lens, some day. But I aim to carry my prisoners in as I catch 'em not as I'd like 'em to fit wishful thinking."

"Then, in other words, you're saying I'm just running off at the mouth!"

"well, I do see some points you've raised that will have to be answered if ever we get that odd-matched pair to talk. To tell the truth, I don't know just what they were up to."

"You don't? Then why did you arrest them?"

"I told everybody at the time. For the murder of Deputy Kincaid. You eat the apple a bite at a time, ma'am. It ain't my job to get all the details out of 'em."

"But you said you didn't know what they were up to!"

"I meant I didn't know why. They might have been out to set the prisoner free. They might have been after the reward, just like they said. It don't matter all that much. you heard 'em admit they took a shot at me in Bitter Creek. That's against the law, no matter how you slice it. Just why they did it and who they're working for will come out in the wash. Since the midget is the brains, and she's the brawn, he'll no doubt tell a few tales on her to save his neck, before it's all over."

"Brrr, they are a pair, ain't they? What was that he said about having his head to some plywood, listening to you talk to somebody in Bitter Creek?"

"Oh, I don't remember just who I was talking to, ma'am. After his wife took a few shots at me I caught him listening, is all."

"Oh, I got the impression he was listening in on you and that s.l.u.t of his. I'm starting to remember just what it was he said."

"Well, don't you worry your pretty head about it, Miss Kim."

This redhead was too quick-witted to be let out without a leas.h.!.+ A muzzle wouldn't hurt, either! How many of the others had she been to with her infernal speculations? She suddenly blurted out, "Oh, I remember. He said he was listening when you and that hussy were..."

"What, ma'am?"

"You told him to hush, 'cause there were ladies present. Meaning me, I take it, since I'd hardly call Mabel Hanks a lady."

"I thought he was fixing to cuss. He was pretty riled when I arrested him."

"Longarm, were you and that awful woman...? Oh, I can't believe it!"

"That makes two of us. You do have a lively mind, and a mite dirty, meaning no disrespect. The woman is his wife, Miss Kim. Allowing for her being no better than you think she is, what you're suggesting is mighty wild, if you ask me!"

"I'm sorry, but it did cross my mind. She's not bad-looking, and you are a man, after all."

"Heaven forbid I'd be that kind of man, Miss Kim! Do I look like the sort of gent who'd trifle with a woman with her husband listening, watching, or whatever?"

She laughed a sort of earthy laugh and said, "As a matter of fact, you do. But I can't see you loving up a gal who'd just shot at you, with her husband next door, listening, or not. n.o.body would do a thing like that but a very stupid man, which I'll allow you ain't."

"There you go. I knew you'd drop them awful notions, soon as you reconsidered 'em a mite."

CHAPTER 24.

Somewhere, somebody was hollering fit to bust, so Longarm woke up. He rolled, fully dressed, from under his canvas tarp and sprang to his feet, Winchester in hand and headed over toward the smoldering embers of the fire, in the direction of the confusion.

He found Timberline kneeling over Mabel Hanks, shaking her like a terrier shakes a rat as he thundered, "Gawd d.a.m.n it, lady! I don't aim to ask nice one more time!"

Longarm saw the open handcuff dangling from the one still locked to Mabel's right wrist and said, "Let her be, Even when she's talking she don't tell the truth worth mention."

He shoved a pine knot into the embers and waited, squatting on his heels, until it was ablaze. Meanwhile, everyone in camp converged around Timberline and his smirking captive. As Longarm got to his feet with the torch held out to one side, Kim Stover asked, "What happened? Where's the midget?"

"d.a.m.ned if I know. my own fault. I locked that bracelet as tight as she'd go, but he has a wrist like an eight-year-old's and we hardly arrest enough that young to mention."

He fished the key from his pants and handed it to her. "Timberline gets through shaking her teeth loose, get him off her and cuff her to a sapling 'til I get back."

"Are you going after him in the dark?"

"I don't aim to wait 'til sunup."

He found a tiny heel mark in the forest duff and started away from the clearing. A couple of the hands fell in beside him, anxious to help.

He said, "Go back and check to see if he lit out with anybody's weapon. I have enough to worry about, tracking him, without having to keep you fellers from getting shot."

"How do you know he has a gun, Longarm?"

"I don't. But I never track, trusting to a man's good nature. Put out them embers and keep together. He ain't got a mount. He may decide he needs one and you likely know by now, he's a slippery little imp!"

He left them to debate the matter and started ahead, making out a scuff-mark here and a heelprint there, until he came to the bank of the stream.

"Wading in water so's not to leave tracks, huh? Poor little b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Don't you know how cold it gets up here at night?"

He a.s.sumed his quarry would come out on the far side. Nine out of ten did. A distant, steady roar, far up the slope, told him there was a waterfall within a mile. Taking into account the size of the strides Cedric took, a mile in icy snow-melt seemed about right. Longarm shoved the sharp end of the pine knot in the mud beside the stream, leaving it glowing there as a distraction visible for a good distance. Then, swinging wide, he ran up the slope through the trees. He ran until his lungs hurt, and ran some more, making no more noise than he could help in his soft-soled boots over spongy, fallen fir needles.

He was out of breath by the time he reached the waterfall, and anyone making better time would have to have longer legs. The midget's only chance was that he'd been gone longer than Longarm figured.

He hadn't. After Longarm had squatted near the lip of the falls for about five minutes, he heard a splash downstream and the crunch of a wet boulder under foot. He waited until a barely-visible movement caught his eye across the falls. Then he said conversationally, "Evening, Mister Hanks. Going someplace?"

The darkness exploded in a flas.h.i.+ng roar of brilliant orange. Longarm knew, as something smashed, hard, into the wood above his head, that the little bounty hunter had stolen someone's saddle rifle.

He fired back, rolling away from where he'd just been, as another shot flared across the stream, followed by the patter of little running feet.

Longarm ran across the slippery lip of the falls, calling out, "Hold on, old son! You're turning this into serious business!"

His quarry fired again, aiming at the sound of Longarm's voice. The shot went wild, of course, since Longarm knew enough to crab sideways after sounding off. He fired back, not really expecting to hit a savvy gunfighter in the dark by aiming at the flashes. He noticed that the little man had fired and crabbed to his right both times as a broken twig betrayed his next run. He kept running uphill, too. It figured. A man that size hadn't seen army training or he'd know more about dismounted combat in the dark. The first thing you learned from old soldiers was that most men crab to the right and instinctively run uphill when they're lost in the dark.

Longarm got behind a tree and called out, "Cedric, I'm pure tired of chasing you! You drop that thing and come back here!"

A bullet thudded into the trunk. The ornery little cuss was shooting to kill. So Longarm let out a long coyote-wail and gasped, "Gawd! I'm hit! SomebodY help me! I'm hit in my fool leg!"

Then he moved quietly off to one side and waited.

Something crunched in the dark. What seemed like ten years later, Longarm heard another sound, closer. The little cuss was serious!