“He’s only got one head, damn it. He’s just another breed. Maybe younger than me and not as pretty. Oh, he does walk with a limp. I disremember which leg—he got shot one time. To tell you the truth, we never jawed much. He was a quiet, moody cuss, like I said. Never killed anybody while I rode with him, though.”
“The limp’s the only thing I don’t have on my papers, so I owe you another drink. Chief Real Bear told us Hunts Alone was on the reservation.”
“Maybe he is. I’m buying this round.”
“You said he looks half white. The Indian police say they know all the breeds out there and none of them is him. You figure Real Bear could have lied for some reason?”
“Beats me. I didn’t know the man. I’ve jawed with a few Blackfoot since they sent me out here, but I’d be lying if I said I knew any of ‘em well.”
“You talk their lingo?” Longarm asked.
“Not enough to matter. I’m pretty good in Sioux and I can make myself understood in the sign lingo all the plains tribes use. Blackfoot’s sort of like Cheyenne, ain’t it?”
“Just about the same. You said Johnny Hunts Alone talks Sioux as well as Blackfoot, right?”
“Oh, that old boy could pow-wow fierce,” Jason said. “He’d have made one hell of a scout if he hadn’t took to robbing and such. We figured he had something gnawing at him, but like I said, he was only after buffalo when we rode together.”
Longarm picked up the fresh drink the bartender had put before him and said, “I’d like you to think about this before you answer, Jason. If you were to see Hunts Alone before I did-“
“I’d warn him,” said the scout, flatly. Then he added, “I’d tell him you were after him and give him a head start for old times’ sake. Then I’d come and tell you true which way he’d lit out. I don’t like being in the middle like this, but we’re both working for Uncle Sam, so I’d do both duties as best I could. If that sticks in your craw, I’m sorry as all hell, but that’s the way I am.”
“A man has to stick by old friends, as long as he don’t get crazy on the subject. Let me ask you one more question and have done with it. If I was to come on the two of you together, how big a slice of the pie would you be expecting?”
Jason took a swallow of his drink and said, “That’s a pisser, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, but I’d like an honest answer.”
“Well, to be honest, I don’t know. I can’t see gunning you. I reckon I’d likely stand aside.”
“That’s good enough, Jason. Naturally, if you saw me coming before Johnny did, you’d likely mention my intentions to him?”
“Yep, I likely would. After that, the two of you would be on your own.”
The officious Sheriff Murphy had circled back from wherever he’d hidden to take command once the smell of gunsmoke had faded away. Longarm was only too happy to leave him with the disposal of the bodies after wiring Denver where to send the reward for Fats. He knew Billy Vail would be discreet about bruiting Roping Sally’s name and address about.
Longarm, as a federal employee, couldn’t claim the reward for Curley. Jason said he didn’t want blood money, so Longarm let Murphy put in a claim. If he ever got it, he’d likely brag on shooting outlaws into the next century, but what the hell—the poor idiot needed some brag to go with his badge.
Longarm hauled the mortal remains of Spotted Beaver back to the reservation for another interesting funeral. He arrived a little after one in the afternoon to discover some changes had taken place.
Prudence Lee had set up shop in the late Real Bear’s house and was beating a drum and shaking a tambourine for some reason that Longarm didn’t go over to find out. He joined Calvin and Nan Durler in the agency kitchen after giving the body to Spotted Beaver’s kin.
He sat at the kitchen table and lit a cheroot as he told the Durlers about the interesting times he’d been having since last they’d been together. He didn’t imagine they were interested in Roping Sally, but he told them everything else.
Calvin said, “That same fool calf busted out again this morning, but some Indian kids caught it and brought it back. Where in thunder do you figure that calf wants to go? He’s got plenty of grass and water, damn it!”
Longarm thought before he answered. He had enough on his plate as it was; on the other hand, the answer to one question sometimes led to others. He took a drag on his cheroot and asked, “You feel up to hunting cow thieves, Cal?”
“Cow thieves? What are you talking about? Nobody stole the infernal calf. It just busted through the wire and took off on its own like it had turpentine under its tail!”
“You’re missing other critters, ain’t you? Come on, let’s get Rain Crow and some other police and see what’s eating your new calf. You got a good saddle gun?”
“Got a Henry repeater, but I ain’t the best shot in the world.”
“Don’t reckon you’ll have to use it, but it pays to have one along. Keeps folks from getting sassy when they see you’re armed.”
Nan Durler said, “You men can’t leave me here alone. I’m coming with you.”
Before her husband could answer, Longarm said flatly, “No, you’re not. I don’t mean to get your man shot, Miss Nan. Why don’t you go next door and help Miss Prudence whang that drum? What’s she doing over there, anyway ?”
Calvin laughed and said, “Teaching some Blackfoot the Meaning of the Word. They likely think she’s crazy, but we don’t have an opera house, so what the hell, at least it’s entertainment.”
Ignoring his wife’s protests, the agent armed himself and followed Longarm outside. They saddled up, rode to Rain Crow’s house, and got him and another Indian policeman called Two-Noses. Longarm didn’t ask why they
