Longarm and the Wendigo

“I took a shortcut across the open prairie. What do you mean, a gun?”

“It’s that Nancy! She told him something about you and he’s half out of his head with rage! I only heard the loud parts when they were shouting about it half an hour or so ago, but she seems to have said you, uh you know.”

Longarm swore under his breath and said, “I never. I reckon you must suspicion it too, huh?”

Prudence shook her head emphatically. “No. If I thought she was telling the truth I’d let him shoot you. I told you she was going crazy. What are you going to do about it?”

Longarm shrugged and said, “Nan will have been watching from her back window the same as you, so she knows I’m here. Cal will ride clean into Switchback and they’ll tell him I rode out. We’d best go inside your place.”

“You’re welcome to hide with me, of course, but if I could have a talk with Nan before he gets back-“

“No. I want you where I can keep an eye on you. I’ve run into crazy-jealous husbands before, and there’s only one way you can handle them.”

“Good heavens! You don’t mean to kill the poor boy!”

“Not if I can keep him from killing me some other way.”

“Oh, my God, I shouldn’t have told you! I can’t have a dead man on my conscience!” Prudence cried in dismay.

“Well, had you left me in smiling ignorance you might have had two. He’d have had the clean drop on me, and since I don’t take kindly to getting shot, I’d have likely gone down shooting back. Let’s go inside while I study my next move.”

“Can’t you just ride out?” Prudence asked.

“Nope. Ain’t finished hereabouts. Oh, I could hide out for a day or so, but it’d make my job tedious, and in the end, he’d likely catch up with me when I wasn’t set for a showdown. I think it’s best we get it over with as soon as possible.”

He led her inside and started piling furniture against the wall facing the agency next door, saying, “I hope he doesn’t just start shooting through the wall when Nan tells him I’m in here, but you never know. When we see him coming, I want you flat on the floor behind this stuff.”

“Oh, my God, I don’t believe this is happening! I must be having a bad dream! You can’t mean it, Longarm! You can’t just ambush that poor boy like this!”

“Miss Prudence,” he said, laying a firm hand on her shoulder, “I ain’t all that happy about it myself. You do as I say and I’ll do what I have to. He’ll be coming back before the sun sinks enough to matter.”

Longarm was right. It was an hour before sunset when Calvin Durler rode in at a lope, his pony lathered and his face red with rage. He swung out of the saddle with a double-barreled shotgun in his free hand and ran into his own house, shouting.

A few minutes later he was out the back door again and headed next door, yelling, “I know you’re in there, you son of a bitch! Come out and fight like a man!”

There was no answer. Calvin strode, grim-faced, toward the back porch entrance, all caution thrown to the winds as he searched for the man his wife had accused. He stopped a few paces from the roof overhang and called again, “don’t hide behind a woman’s skirts, you bastard! If you won’t come out, I’m coming in! Defend yourself, sir!”

And then a loop of throw-rope dropped around his head and shoulders, snapping tight to pin the enraged husband’s elbows to his sides as Longarm, standing on the roof above, yanked hard.

Durler was lifted off his feet, sputtering in surprised confusion, as Longarm ran the length of the eaves and spilled Durler on one side. Then he dropped to the ground, still pulling the rope. He dragged Durler, kicking and screaming, away from his fallen shotgun, then came in hand-over-hand down the rope, and as Durler struggled to rise, kicked him flat, jumped on top of him, and proceeded to hogtie him with the pigging string he’d been gripping between his teeth.

The back door flew open and Prudence Lee flew out, shouting, “Don’t hurt him, Longarm! It wasn’t his fault!”

Longarm finished binding his victim securely before he looked up with a grin, and still kneeling on Durler’s thrashing body, he said, “I told you I’d try to take him without gunplay, ma’am.”

The other back door opened and Nan Durler peered out, looking almost as confused as her husband. Longarm slapped Durler a couple of times to gain his undivided attention before he said calmly, “She wasn’t expecting to have to repeat her fool story to both of us, Cal. Let’s see if she was trying to get you or me out of the way, huh?”

He called out amiably, “Which one did you think it would be, Nan? I know you were pissed at me, but on the other hand, you likely figured I could take your man. I know divorce is frowned on, but wouldn’t it have been more Christian?”

Nan ducked inside without answering, but her husband grunted, “Get off my back, God damn you! You’re killing me!”

“Not as dead as she figured I would be. What in thunder’s wrong with you, old son? Even if you bought that fool tale she must have told you, did you really think you had a chance against me? Meaning no offense, the last time I rode through Dodge, Ben Thompson and John Wesley Hardin both stayed out of MY way.”

“You just untie me and let me at a gun, you son of a bitch, and we’ll just see how good you are!”

“I know how good I am, Cal,” Longarm said calmly. “Likely your wife does, too. I don’t aim to let you up till you’ve had time to reconsider a mite. You’ve been fighting with her for days. Ordinarily, I don’t ask what married folks are fighting over, but she’s been talking about leaving you, hasn’t she?”

There was a long silence before Durler said grudgingly, “That’s between me and her. She said you trifled with her while my back was turned, God damn you!”

“Well, she’s a handsome woman and I’m no saint, so I can see how you might have been fool enough to buy that shit. But you missed a point or two. If I’d been at her while you were out tending your chores, don’t you suspicion she’d have sort of wanted to keep it a secret? Most gals do. How’d she get you so riled? Did she say I had a bigger prick?”

“You bastard! How did you know that?”

“I’m a lawman. This ain’t the first time I’ve ran across such action, though I’ve usually been the arresting officer. Ain’t it a bitch how gals get us poor idiots to fight with that old taunt about our peckers? I don’t care if you believe this or not, but Nan ain’t in a position to say all that much about my anatomy. She only saw me once in my birthday suit and it wasn’t up enough to mention.”

From the sidelines, Prudence Lee gasped, “Mr. Long! I’ll thank you to remember I’m a lady!”

“Can’t be helped, ma’am. This is man talk. You’d best go inside if it’s too rich for your ears.”

She didn’t move. Interested in spite of himself, Calvin Durler asked, “She saw you naked? When was this?”

“When she came in on me as I was taking a bath. She likely meant to scrub my back or something.”

“She told me you’d had her in our own bed. She said she’d tried to resist, but you were so strong and she was so weak, her flesh betrayed her into going all the way.”

“Sure, she told you that,” Longarm said. “Next to being told the other man is bigger and better, nothing steams a man like hearing it took place in his own bed. She didn’t miss a trick, did she?”

“God damn it, she must have been telling me the truth! How could any woman admit to such a thing if it wasn’t true?”

“To get her husband killed, most likely. Just think a mite, damn it. Even if I was fool enough to trifle with a man’s wife under his own roof with miles of open country all about, why would I take even more of a chance than I had to? Hell, you’ve given me a guest room with a lock on the door, old son! Don’t you think I’d have sense enough to use it for my wicked seductions, if such was my intention?”

Durler said, “She told me you caught her in our room, making the bed, and-“

“Damn it, she makes all the beds at the same time,” Longarm interrupted. “Besides that, if I was some sort of mad rapist, Miss Prudence, here, has been all alone at my mercy without a husband to protect her. Ain’t that right, Miss Prudence?”

The missionary blushed and stammered, “What are you saying? We’ve never been improper together!”

“There you go, Cal, and meaning no disrespect to your woman, this single gal, here, is no uglier. Well, never mind. The point I’m aiming at is that I’d be too foolish to be let out without a keeper if I’d been fooling with a married-up woman under her own roof with a good-looking single gal alone next door.”

Prudence Lee added, “I can assure you, Calvin, Mr. Long has been a perfect gentleman the times we’ve been alone, and come to think of it, he’s been alone with me more often than with Nan.”

Longarm asked, “Can I let you up now, Cal?”

“Well, maybe I won’t shoot anybody just yet, but I’ve got a lot of questions to ask everybody hereabouts!”

Longarm untied his wrists and ankles and helped him to his feet as Durler muttered murderously, “Somebody’s been trying to pull the wool over my eyes, God damn it.”

“I know. Why don’t we all go over to your place and have us a pow-wow with your woman?”

But when the three of them got to the agency kitchen, they met Nan Durler with a packed carpetbag and a defiant look on her face. Durler said, “Honey, we’ve got to talk about this situation.” But his wife snapped, “I’m through talking, you mealy-mouthed nitwit! If you were any kind of a man at all, you’d have killed him for what he did to me!”

“He says he didn’t do it, Nan.”

“I don’t care who says what to anybody!” Nan Durler exploded. “I’m taking one of the ponies into Switchback. You can pick it up at the livery. I’m going where men know how to do right by a lady!”

She swept grandly out, and as Durler followed, pleading, Longarm caught Prudence by the elbow and murmured, “Stay here with me and let ‘em have it out.”

“I don’t want her to tell him more lies about you. I’ve never met a woman with such an evil tongue!” Prudence said with righteous indignation.

“I have. I’d say her mind’s made up and she’s leaving peaceably. Her notions on collecting a government pension as the widow of a federal employee didn’t pan out, but she’s on her way East and he won’t be turning her around.”

“Oh, good heavens! I didn’t even consider a pension! So that’s why she wanted you both to fight!”

“Only partly. Since Cal ain’t listening, I will confess she did try to get me to do what she said, only I wouldn’t, and she was likely moody enough about it to not care all that much which of us got buried. Since she never figured she’d have to repeat her fool tale under cross-examination, I suspicion she’s given up. He’ll be fool enough to tag along all the way to town, but she’s getting on that train. Her jaw was set for a long trip elsewhere.”

“Well, he’s well rid of her, I suppose,” Prudence said. “But what’s to become of her?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. She’ll find another man, or failing at that, take up the trade she was likely born for. I doubt she’ll become a missionary.”

Prudence Lee’s eyes narrowed as she snapped, “Just what was that supposed to mean, sir?”

“Just funning.”

Longarm was drinking alone in the Switchback saloon that night when Jason joined him at the bar. Jason said, “Heard you took a room at the railroad hotel.”

Longarm said, “Just for the night. I’ll be pulling out for Denver in the morning.”

“Oh, you finished here?” Jason asked, surprised. “I thought it might have something to do with that domestic trouble out at the agency.”

“Jesus, news travels in a small town, don’t it? The back-fence gossips must have had a lot of fun when Durler’s old woman left on the evening train.”

“I heard something about her leaving him. Surprised you’re leaving, though. When I rode in to see the Crow police off they said you had some loose ends left hereabouts.”

“There’s loose ends and there’s loose ends, Jason. Sometimes, in my trade, it pays to leave a few be. The Wendigo killings have stopped, and I can’t find Johnny Hunts Alone. Meanwhile, there’s more work waiting for me back in Denver and my boss is getting moody about it.”

“I see. So we’ll likely never know how Mendez pulled off some of it, or why, eh?”

Longarm said, “Oh, I got the Wendigo’s moves nailed down. Like I suspicioned, he was using the railroad and those burlap boots to get on and off the reservation. Killed his victims with that South American bolo, and you know the rest.”

Jason scratched at his thick-stubbled jaw. “Damned if I do! What about that Ghost Dancer, killed miles from the track, or old Real Bear, murdered right next door to the agency? No tracks near there, were there?”

“Mendez never killed those two,” Longarm explained, “The Ghost Dancer was killed by … never mind. The point is, the Indian who got rid of a troublemaker before he could get the tribe in hot water did everyone a favor, and what the hell.”

“What about the old chief?” Jason asked, puzzled.

“Oh, that was Johnny Hunts Alone. Real Bear had recognized and turned the rascal in. So he butchered the old man and skinned him. You said the breed was once a hide-skinner, remember?”

Jason snapped his fingers. “That’s right, and Real Bear’s head wasn’t cut off, either!”

“There you go. Mendez was sent to follow up on the first spooky killing when the Dream Singers started scaring folks about the Wendigo. The idea was to scare the Blackfoot off all that open range. Mendez was a hired thug. Don’t know if the grisly trimmings were his idea or not. He didn’t have much imagination. Kept pulling the same fool tricks till I caught him.”

Jason frowned and said, “Wait a minute. Loose ends are one thing, but this is ridiculous! You say you think Johnny Hunts Alone killed Real Bear, but you’ve given up on catching him?”

“I’d catch him if he was on the reservation. But he ain’t. He likely lit out shortly after killing the informer. His only reason for being in these parts was to hide out. With the Justice Department, army, Indian agency and all combing the reservation for the Wendigo …”

“I follow your drift. He’s likely in Mexico by now. But what was that about someone putting Mendez up to those other killings?”

The deputy laughed softly. “Ain’t it obvious? Mendez didn’t kill folks as a hobby. He did it for money. He was hired to run the Blackfoot off a huge stretch of virgin range. None of the big cattle outfits would be in a position to claim or buy the land, once it was deserted, but they don’t buy open range in the first place. They pay a fee per head to the government to graze it. Cal Durler says he’s had lots of offers but he turned them all down. Says he was offered a few bribes, too.” Longarm reached for a cheroot, lit it, and mused, “Had the Blackfoot run to Canada as planned, the B.I.A. would have fired Durler as dead wood.”

“Then who would they go to with an offer on the grazing rights?” Jason asked.

“Land office, of course. Bureau of Land Management has the say on all federal lands not occupied by anybody.”

“You mean Chadwick could lease out grazing rights on Indian lands?”

Longarm nodded. “Sure. He says he can’t, but I checked with Washington and he has the power to lease even your army post, if it ain’t being used by anybody. The grazing rights are leased on a yearly basis. Land office can grant the rights to the White House lawn if President Hayes ain’t there to object.”

“Kee-rist! Don’t you see what that means, Longarm?”

The lawman took a long drag on his cheroot and blew out a thick column of bluish smoke. For a moment, he watched it thin out and spread to merge with the pall already floating in the thick atmosphere of the saloon, then he said, “That Chadwick ain’t up on his regulations? Or that he’d have been in position to line his pockets if the Blackfoot had deserted all that land?”

“Good God Almighty! Ain’t you going to arrest him?” Jason asked.

“I’d like to,” Longarm said. “But on what charge? Mendez is dead, so he can’t be a witness. There’s nothing I can prove. But what the hell, the killings are over and he’ll be too scared to try again, so I’m closing the books on the case.”

Jason drained his glass and held his finger up to the bartender for another as he growled, “That’s raw as hell, Longarm! Can’t you see Chadwick was behind it all? You know how big cattle spreads take care of government men who can grant ‘em grazing rights while keeping smaller men off the free grass!”

Longarm nodded morosely, and agreed, “Sure, I know. But I can’t touch the rascal. It’s no crime to be a mite confused about his land office regulations. Not in court, anyway. He was never on the reservation or anywhere near the victims, so what am I to do about it?”

“By God, if it was me wearing that badge I’d shoot the son of a bitch!” Jason said vehemently.

“I’ve studied on that. The man’s a federal official with powerful friends. Wouldn’t be legal for me to just up and gun him down like the dog he is. But like I said, he likely won’t try anything else. He was mixed up in another scandal a few years back and it took him a long time to get up the nerve to have another go at the pork barrel. So he’ll retire poor but honest. It happens that way, once in a while.”

Jason grabbed his fresh drink peevishly and snapped, “I thought you had more sand in your craw! Ain’t you even gonna have harsh words with him over all he did to them poor folks?”

Longarm shrugged. “I could lecture him some, but he’d just laugh at me. He’s had time to cover his crooked tracks better than his hired Wendigo ever did. No, I’ll just leave polite and peaceable. I’m only a deputy and he’s got some powerful pals in higher circles. One thing I’ve had to learn the hard way, Jason, is that the big shots never get caught.”

“Jesus, you call that justice?”

“Nope, I call it the facts of life. I’ve got enough on my plate with the little bastards they send me after.” He took out his watch and consulted it before he added, “I’ve got some wires to send at the station and a ticket to buy. If I don’t meet up with you again, it’s been nice knowing you, Jason.”

Leaving the scout to brood about it over his drink, Longarm left and walked over to the station. He went inside, then out the far door to the dark tracks. He moved west along the railroad right-of-way until he came abreast of an alleyway cutting behind the storefronts of the main street. Then he drew his .44 and moved slowly down the alley toward the back door of the land office.

He took his time deliberately, but he’d reached the back fence when he heard a fusillade of gunshots, followed by a ghastly scream!

Longarm nodded and moved in slowly and cautiously. The screams were still going on as he kicked in the back door and moved along the dimly lit corridor in their direction. They were coming from the telegraph lean-to.

Longarm heard the front door slam, so he entered the shack. Agent Chadwick was rolling on the floor in a puddle of blood and steaming battery acid, his hands covering his smoldering face as he wailed, “Oh, Jesus! Mary, Mother of God, I can’t stand it!”

Longarm placed one boot on a dry spot, holstered his .44, grabbed one of Chadwick’s booted ankles, and hauled him clear of the vitriol and broken battery glass, saying, “Don’t rub it in, you stupid son of a bitch!”

He dragged Chadwick along the corridor, leaving a trail of smoldering carpet in their wake, and kicked out the front door to drag the screaming land agent out into the street. People ran from every direction as Longarm hauled Chadwick through the dust to a watering trough, picked him up by the belt, and plunged him full-length into the water, soaking his own arms to the elbows as he did so. He called out, “Somebody run for the doc and stand clear of that splashed shit. Even mixed with water it’s strong enough to peel you alive!”

He glanced around for Jason, but the scout wasn’t part of the crowd. Longarm shrugged, and since Chadwick seemed to be drowning, reached in for a handful of his hair and pulled his head up. As he did so, the hair came off in his hand and the land agent’s head banged against the soggy end planks, out of the water. He was screaming again now, so he’d probably live for a while, the poor bastard.

Longarm turned to the bartender from across the way and said, “Tell the doc somebody put a bullet in his gut, then shot out the battery jars above him. He’s likely done for, but ask the doc to try and keep him alive till I get back.”

Someone asked, “Where are you going, Deputy?”

Longarm said, “To arrest the man who did it, of course. A favor is a favor, but the law is the law, too.”

He caught up with the scout in the livery. They were alone there, since the stable hands were up the street, attending the evening festivities around the dying land agent.

Longarm said, “‘Evening, Jason. Going someplace?”

The bearded scout smiled thinly and said, “I was wondering why my saddle was missing. You came by here and hid it before laying for me over at the saloon, huh?”

“Yep. I owe you for pushing me out of the way of a bullet, so I hope we can settle this peaceably.”

“I notice you haven’t drawn. Don’t reckon you could see your way to just let me ride out? You know that skunk had a good killing coming to him.”

“You killed him better than most Apaches might have managed. I reckon blood is thicker’n water, even if you killed old Real Bear after he recognized you. Since you had nothing to do with killing those other Blackfoot, and they were your kin, I sort of figured you’d go for Chadwick, once I told you he’d been behind the Wendigo bullshit. I want you to listen sharp before you go for that gun at your side, old son. I’d rather take you in alive, but I’m taking you in, not for what you did to Chadwick, but for those other folks you robbed and killed as Johnny Hunts Alone.”

“I might have known you had me spotted. Can we talk a spell before we slap leather?”

“I’ve got time. If you’re trying to tell me you’ve gone straight as an army scout, forget it. I’ve sent some wires and there’s no scout assigned to Fort Banyon. You knew it was a quiet post and just rode in with bogus orders you’d typed up under a carbon paper. That drunk C.O. out there never gave enough of a damn to check, and since you only aimed to stay a month or so, you had till next payday before anyone might have asked for confirmation. I’m surprised the Crow police didn’t tumble, though. Few army posts have scouts assigned between campaigns, and when they do, it’s usually a local man who talks the local tribe’s lingo. I know you said you didn’t talk Blackfoot, but of course you do. That part about talking Sioux was clumsy, Johnny. Got me wondering why you were scouting in Blackfoot country. Saying you didn’t know your way around the reservation was foolish, too. A real scout would have known the country like the back of his hand, or there’d be no point to the War Department’s hiring him in the first place!”

“You gotta admit I can pass for pure white,” Jason-Johnny said proudly.

“Sure you can. That’s what mixed us up, at first. They sent me looking for a Blackfoot, on the reservation, not a white scout right next door. Old Real Bear forgot to put that part in when he got word to us you were in the neighborhood. But as you see, I figured it out. Once I knew you weren’t a real scout, the rest just sort of fell into place. Nobody’d be working as a scout just for the hell of it, and you are sort of dark, once folks get suspicious.”

Johnny Hunts Alone nodded and said, “I still say you had dumb luck. Had that son of a bitch, Chadwick, not used my killing Real Bear to start a war of his own-“

“That’s right. I’d have likely run in circles for a few days, found out no breed answering your description was on the reservation, and decided he’d just lit out after killing the old man. But, as you see, it didn’t work out that way. I had you spotted soon enough, but I didn’t know if you were the Wendigo, so I left you to one side until I caught Mendez, and you know the rest. If you’d oblige me by unbuckling that gun belt, gentle, I’d be willing to take you to Denver without putting you in irons. Like you said, I owe you.”

The half-breed shook his head and said, smiling broadly, “Can’t hardly see my way clear to do that, Longarm. I reckon it’s you or me, huh?”

“I wish you wouldn’t make me kill you, old son.”

Hunts Alone laughed, a trifle wildly, and staring hard at the holstered .44 at Longarm’s side, went for his own.

There was a bright orange blaze of two rapid shots and Johnny Hunts Alone staggered back against the wall of a stall as the horse behind him whinnied in terror. The half-breed slid down the planks, leaving a trail of blood against them as he sank to his knees, his own gun still undrawn and his eyes riveted on the grips of Longarm’s holstered six-gun. He shook his head and muttered, “What the hell-?”

Longarm took the little brass derringer from the side coat pocket he’d fired through and explained, “I was covering you with a double-barreled whore pistol all this time, Johnny. You said you wanted to talk, so I let you. But I’ve had men draw on me in the middle of an interesting conversation, so …”

“Damn it, that wasn’t fair, Longarm! I thought we were going to settle this like gents.”

“You had your chance to come peaceably. I gave you a better chance than you did when you hit old Real Bear from behind, and while we’re on the subject, that last bank clerk you gunned was unarmed. But we’re wasting time with this fool talk, Johnny. How bad did I hit you? The doc’s right up the street.”

“I’d say you killed me,” answered Johnny Hunts Alone, judiciously, as he removed a blood-slicked hand from his chest and studied it calmly in the dim light.

Longarm said, “I’ll be taking that gun before I go to fetch help, Johnny. You just rest easy and try not to move about.”

But as he drew his .44 and knelt to take the gun from the kneeling man’s hip, the breed suddenly vomited blood and fell forward on his face. Johnny Hunts Alone’s body twitched a few more times, then lay very still. Longarm felt for the pulse on the side of his neck and said aloud, “You were right, old son. I purely put at least one round where it counted, didn’t I?”

The man stretched out in the stable litter didn’t answer.

Longarm hadn’t expected him to.

Longarm knelt a while in silence, wondering why his gut felt so empty. It was all over. He’d done the job he’d been sent to do—and he had done it damned well, in all modesty. So why did he feel so shitty?

It wasn’t that he’d just killed another man. He’d gotten used to that part. It went with the job. He’d given this poor jasper the chance to come with him peaceably and politely, and where in the U.S. Constitution did it say a lawman had to treat a wanted killer fairly?

No, he didn’t feel guilty about killing Johnny Hunts Alone. He’d owed the man for saving his ass that time, but the breed had only been acting natural when he spied that gun barrel trained on them from across the street. Nobody was all bad. The man he’d just killed had likely been decent to his friends and good to his horse, too. Had he been given more of a break than he’d asked for, he’d be riding out about now with a dead lawman lying here, and not feeling all that sorry about it.

As to tricking Hunts Alone into killing the one man the law couldn’t touch, Longarm thought that had been right slick, if he said so himself. He’d file it that he’d gunned Johnny after tracking him from the murder of a government official and there’d be no scandal worth mentioning. It was all as neat as a pin. Perhaps he was feeling sad because, no matter how many of them died, poor Roping Sally would never come back with her tomboy smile and rollicking rump to brighten up a tedious world.

He got to his feet again, brushing the stable dust from his knee with his hat, and stepped outside.

More sightseers were running to the sound of the more recent shots and Longarm saw one was Sheriff Murphy. Longarm said, “Take charge of the body in there, will you, Murph? By the way, there’s a reward on the cuss. I’ll write you up for an assistment, if you want.”

“Why, that’s neighborly as hell, Longarm. But who in thunder did you shoot this time? The doc says Chadwick’s done for!”

“I didn’t shoot Chadwick. The man who did is inside, dead. You’ll find he’s that jasper who said he worked for the army, Jason. His real name was Hunts Alone and he was a Blackfoot on his mom’s side. Now you know as much as I do and I’ve got other chores to tend to.”

Leaving Murphy in charge at the livery, Longarm jogged up the street to where Chadwick lay naked on a wagon tarp near the watering trough. The coroner looked up brightly and said, “You’re delivering ‘em fresh these days. This poor cadaver’s still breathing. No need for an autopsy, though. The cause of death was a bullet through the spleen and a shower of battery acid. I just knocked him out to ease his way out of this world. Before he went under, he said something about a double-cross.”

“He likely thought one of the folks offering him bribes was spooked about it. Did he mention any names?”

“No, and he won’t. Even if he’d lived—I mean for the night—he’d have been in too much pain to talk sense. Those third-degree acid burns must smart.”

The deputy marshal pulled at a corner of his John L. Sullivan mustache. “Hell, I wanted him to confirm a few things. No way to bring him around for a minute or two?”

“I’ll try.”

The coroner started to give the charred body an injection. Then he shook his head and said, “He’s gone. Maybe I gave him a mite more morphine than I should have.”

“I reckon it was your Christian duty, Doc. I can see the bones in his face and the eye holes are still smoking.”

“Yeah, it was a hell of a way for any man to die,” the coroner agreed.

Longarm shrugged and muttered, “Oh, I don’t know. All things considered, I suspicion the mother-loving son of a bitch got off easier than he deserved!”

A man in the crowd marveled, “Jesus, Deputy, when you hate, you hate serious, don’t you?”

Longarm swept the crowd with his cold, gray-blue eyes as he nodded and said, “Yep, and you might spread the word that I’ll be back if anyone ever, ever raises another finger against my friends out at the Blackfoot reservation!”

He assumed, as he walked away, that they’d gotten his message. If they hadn’t, what the hell, he’d meant every word.

Chapter 16

It was another midnight by the time Longarm reached the agency after one last, tedious ride out to fill Calvin Durler in on all that had just taken place.

He found the young Indian agent in a chair next to the kitchen table, sprawled face-down across it and out like a light. There were no bullet holes in Durler, but a jar of white lightning stood on the table near his snoring head, three-quarters gone.

Longarm considered shaking him awake, but decided not to. Drunken young men whose women had just lit out on them tended to be testy, even when they were able to hear you. So Longarm snuffed out the kitchen lamp to keep the poor kid from cremating himself and stepped outside.

There was a light in Prudence Lee’s window, but it was late. He thought maybe he’d just light out and the hell with it. If Durler had any questions they couldn’t answer for him in town, he could write to Denver when he sobered up.

But Prudence must have heard his chestnut’s hooves, for she popped out on the porch to hail him, saying, “I was so afraid you’d leave without coming by to say goodbye. Is it true you’re finished here?”

“Yep. I’ve returned the hired mule and buckboard to the livery, made arrangements to return the army’s horse to Fort Banyon, and I’ve bought a through ticket to Denver. My train pulls out tomorrow.”

“Oh? Then surely you intended to spend the night out here?”

“Not hardly. Calvin’s drunk as a skunk and it gets tedious listening to folks blubber about lost love. I’ve got a room in town for the night—or what’s left of it.”

“The least you can do is come inside and sit a spell,” Prudence said. “I’m so confused about all that’s happened, and I’d love to have you explain it all to me.”

Longarm shrugged and followed her inside, where a pot of coffee was already boiling on the stove. She’d likely put it on as soon as she’d heard him ride in.

He sat down at the table and said, “Well, I’ve told this tale so many times I’m sick of it, so I’ll make it short and sweet.”

Which he did, between draughts of Prudence’s strong coffee, up to the events of the previous few hours. When he had finished, Prudence Lee said, “So the Wendigo business was all a ruse to drive the Indians away to Canada, right?”

“Yep. Almost worked, too,” Longarm said, taking a sip of coffee.

“But you were waiting for the Wendigo on the train. The fact that the Ghost Dancer was murdered miles from the track never fooled you?”

“Heck, no. I could see right off who did it. When you read two men going in and one coming out, and don’t believe in ghosts, there can only be one answer. Rain Crow tracked the Ghost Dancer down and killed him for being a troublemaker. Then, when he saw he might have exceeded his authority a mite, he tried to make it look like the Wendigo had done it.”

“Are you going to have to arrest Rain Crow?” Prudence asked, a troubled look in her eyes.

“No. By now he’s figured out what he did wrong. Had he just up and shot the jasper, as a lawman trying to make an arrest, there’d have been no crime to report. I suppose I could get picky about it, but I’m not of a mind to. I could make a fuss about Snake Killer’s homemade liquor, too. But I’m a peace officer, not a man to cause trouble for peaceable folk. Besides, I see Calvin’s got a jar of Snake Killer’s medicine next door, likely, helping him get through the first troubled nights. So I ain’t putting anything about firewater in my official report.”

As she poured him another cup of coffee, he said, “That’s about the size of all that’s happened, Miss Prudence. I’ll just drink this and be on my way.”

“Don’t you think we’d be more comfortable on the davenport, out in the other room?” Prudence asked.

“If you say so, ma’am.”

He followed her into the parlor, where he noticed that she didn’t light the lamp as they sat down together. She waited until he’d swallowed a few sips before she said, quietly, “I’ll be going into town myself, in the morning. Would you take me with you?”

“You leaving for good or just shopping, ma’am?”

“For good. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve returned the hired buckboard. I could ride you postern on the chestnut, if it was just a shopping expedition. Packing you and all your gear on one horse, though, is another story, I’m afraid.”

“I won’t be taking much. Just my personals, in one bag. I noticed when Nan left that a woman can carry all she really needs in one neat bundle.”

“What about your big bass drum, Miss Prudence?”

She laughed oddly, and said, “To hell with the big bass drum! I’m so tired of beating it I could scream!”

Not meeting her gaze, Longarm asked, “Don’t you want to be a missionary any more, ma’am?”

“I never wanted to be a missionary, but what was I to do? I don’t know how to play one of those new typewriters, I’m not pretty enough to be an actress, and I don’t know how to walk a tightrope in the circus.”

“Now those are purely interesting trades for a lady, ma’am. Are you saying you just took up reading Bibles because you needed a job?”

“Of course. It was that or work I’m not ready for. I was rather desperate when I checked into that home for wayward girls, and when they offered me a position as a missionary … well, damn it, what was I to do? Work in a fancy house? I may have strayed, some may have said I was fallen. But, damn it, I never fell that far!”

“I see.” Longarm nodded sagely. “That gal you were telling me about—the one who ran off with a rascal who deserted her? She was you all the time, right?”

“Of course. Don’t tell me you didn’t have that figured out!”

Longarm winked. “The thought sort of crossed my mind, but it wasn’t my business.”

“So now you know. And I don’t mind telling you it’s a load off my mind! I was getting so sick of playing Little Miss Goody.”

He chuckled and said, “A little goody ain’t all that bad, taken in moderation. If you’re giving up on being a missionary, what’s your next goal—learning to play a typewriter after all?”

“Anything would be an improvement over reading the Bible to a lot of people who just aren’t interested. I thought I’d get back to civilization with the little I have left and … I don’t know. That story about Madam Lamont had a moral, all right. I noticed that while she was atoning, she got rich at it.”

Longarm drained the cup, placed it on the floor, and leaned back to observe, “You ain’t as wicked as you’d have to be to take up that line of work, honey. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“What makes you so sure I couldn’t be one of those women?”

“You ain’t cold-blooded enough. There’s a poor, lonesome fool right next door, with a good income, and he’s ripe for the plucking. A wicked lady would be over there right now, helping him forget his troubles while she taught him to leap through hoops. A gal who was willing to sell her favors could take that idiot for every cent he had and make him wire home for more!”

“My God! The thought never crossed my mind!” Prudence gasped.

“There you go. You just don’t think like a dance-hall gal. You’ll likely wind up an honest woman in spite of yourself.”

She laughed and said, “You have a wicked imagination. Now that you’ve pointed it out, I can see how I could trap poor Calvin without, as you put it so bluntly, selling anything at all.”

“Yep, he’d likely marry up with you if you took him under your wing. Old Cal’s the marrying kind.”

“Well, I’m not a mother hen and if I was I don’t think he’d be my cup of tea. Nancy was an awful girl, but I could see how living with such a wishy-wash could drive most women to distraction. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but I ran away from a husband who was twice the man Calvin is!”

Longarm shifted his weight and observed, “He’ll likely find some gal in Switchback. Word gets around quick about a lonesome cuss with a good job. Besides, he ain’t that bad—just has some growing to do. He’s already learned to ease up on the Indians and brand his livestock. He’ll make some gal a good man, provided she ain’t as particular as yourself.”

“Could we please drop Calvin Durler? A body would think you were trying to marry her off to the nearest thing in pants! Maybe I am particular, for a woman of my age and looks, but when I am ready to try again, I shan’t make the same mistake. I was a teenaged silly and my mother was after me to marry the boy next door and … no, the next time I’m going to have a much better notion what I’m getting myself into!”

“Pays to shop around a mite, eh?”

Prudence sighed. “I suppose you could put it that way. I’ve wasted some of my best years on a nice boy who bored me to distraction; I’ve made an awful fool of myself with a no-account handsome devil, and for a while, acted so crazy I hardly remember what it was like. Now that I’ve seen I’m just too … well, healthy to give my remaining good years to mission work-Heavens, what am I saying? Why am I baring my soul to you like this? And is that your arm around my shoulders, sir?”

Longarm gently drew her closer, and observed, “Lots of folks seem to tell me things they hadn’t intended to. Gal I knew once, said it had something to do with my not getting all excited in the middle of a quiet conversation. As to why I’m holding you friendly, I reckon I’m cold or something. I’ll stop if you want me to.”

She reached up to clasp the big hand cupping her shoulder as she sighed, “It does feel comforting, but you’re to go no further. Just because I’ve let down my hair a mite is no reason to get ideas. I may be middle-aged, and not much of a looker, and I’ve told you far too much about how weak I’ve been, but-“

“Slow down! You’re talking silly. You can’t be thirty yet, you know you’re a right pretty little mouse, and friends don’t take advantage of each other’s weaknesses.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that,” Prudence scoffed. “I’ll admit I’m not deformed, but ‘fess up—you wouldn’t have your arm about me if I hadn’t confessed to being a fallen woman, would you?”

“I might have hesitated if you’d stuck to beating drums for the Bible Society, but as for being fallen, I suspicion you haven’t fallen as far as you might have aimed to. Most of us have more lust than nerves. We’ve been brought up to think a lot of things that are only natural must be wicked. Somehow the people who wrote the rules got the funny notion that anything that felt good had to be bad for us.”

Her reply, if she had one, was muffled against his lips as he gently pulled her closer and kissed her. She responded, started to struggle, then moaned in pleasure and started kissing back.

Longarm put his free hand against her firm little belly, felt that she wore no corset, praise the Lord, and started moving up. Then he decided what the hell, and slid his hand down between her thighs and began to stroke her gently through her cotton twill skirt and whatever was under it.

She gasped and twisted her lips away from his, pleading, “No! I don’t want to!”

“Sure you do. Don’t you think I can read the smoke signals in your pretty brown eyes?”

“Oh, I’m so bewildered! My body’s saying one thing, but my head tells me this is wrong. The Bible says it’s wrong!”

He noticed she wasn’t pulling away all that vigorously, so he massaged her through the cloth and soothed, “Go with your body, honey. Anyway, if you really want to talk religion at a time like this, don’t you reckon the Lord would never have made us like we are, or let us be together like this, if He was so dead set against it?”

Even as she stopped struggling and opened her thighs to his caress, she protested, “Damn it, you know that’s pure sophistry!”

He grinned and said, “Yeah, ain’t that a bitch?” as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, observing, “We could wrestle on that damn horsehair some more, but it ain’t civilized, and all these fool clothes are in the way.”

“What are you doing!” she exclaimed, even as she helped him with the hooks and eyes while he was undressing her. He gently stripped her to her shift and high-button shoes as she half-struggled, half-cooperated on the mattress. Then he popped a few buttons of his own, got most of his duds out of the way, and was mounting her. She sobbed, “Oh, I never should have told you about my past!” as she wrapped her thighs around him and gripped his naked buttocks with her leather-clad ankles. He moved them into a better position and started thrusting harder as she rolled her head from side to side and gasped, “Oh, this is terrible! What must you think of me?”

“I think you’re more wondrous than an army in its banners. You want me to take it out?”

“You do and I’ll kill you! I think I’m … oh, Jesus! I know I’m coming!”

Later, after they’d taken time to catch their breath and get rid of all the remaining clothing, Prudence held him in her arms, nibbling on one ear, as she purred, “Will you take me with you to Denver, darling?”

He said, “I’ll take you to the moon if you want, but maybe I should have explained a few things.”

She placed a finger to his lips. “Hush, don’t spoil this moment, darling. I know you’re not the marrying kind.” She chuckled and added, “As a matter of fact, I’m not sure I am, either. Not for a while, at least. There’s so much of life I seem to have missed out on. God, you must think I’m terrible!”

“No, I think you’re one of the few sensible gals I’ve run across lately. I’ll take you with me at sun-up and we’ll just sort of drift with the tide till-“

“No plans, dearest. I know better than to hold you to foolish promises and, well, you seem to have started something, for I don’t mean to be held to any, either!”

She saw he wasn’t going to answer and chuckled. “You’re not sure if you like that or not, are you? I suppose most girls you do this with fall madly in love with you?”

“I like it best when there’s less fool talk and more action,” Longarm said.

She laughed as he remounted her. She responded to his first thrust, saying, “My heavens, Nan Durler really told the truth about one thing. If this be carnal depravity, I like it. I didn’t mean to offend your manly pride, dearest, but I told you I was weak-willed.”

Longarm laughed, too. He started moving faster, thinking, Yeah, this is what every old boy says he wants—a pretty little thing that moves her tail like a saloon door on payday, with no strings or tears in the cold, gray dawn. By jimmies, he’d take her to Denver and hold on to her for a spell! Then, as he paused, once more sated for the moment, Prudence sighed, “Roll over on your back and let me do it my way.”

“I’m still up to it, honey, and I like to do things my way and I’m bigger than you!”

“My, yes, in every way,” she purred. “But please let me get on top. Pretty please with sugar on it?”

So, having shown he was still the boss, sort of, Longarm rolled his back against the mattress as she took her own way with his flesh. As he suddenly laughed, she paused and asked with a frown, “What’s so funny? I didn’t think I was all that ridiculous with ‘my old shimmy off!”

He laughed again and explained, “I was thinking of a gal I met, maybe a million years ago, who said I’d never meet up with another half as good.”

Prudence Lee arched her petite torso back to grasp his bare ankles and brace herself on locked elbows. Then she hooked a heel in each of Longarm’s armpits and began moving her tiny pelvis in a manner he found impossible as well as delicious. He gasped, “You’re purely fixing to bust me off inside you, but don’t you dare stop!”

“Was that other lady right in her assumption you’d never meet her match in bed, darling?”

Longarm grinned up at the face smiling back at him between a pair of bouncing cupcake breasts and answered, “Honey, she was as crazy as a bedbug! Every other gal I’ve ever done this with was just practice for tonight. You are the very best I’ve ever had and that’s the truth!”

That was what he liked most about women. No matter how good the last had been, each time he found himself a new one, it really did seem that she was the best he’d ever had. So no matter how often he said it, he was always telling the truth.