Still holding the rope, Durler ducked inside and came out shortly with a folded survey map. He handed it to Longarm who sat on the steps and spread it out as the agent watched, idly twirling the rope. To Durler’s surprise, the loop opened and began to spin easily as soon as he stopped concentrating too hard on his own wrist.
He laughed boyishly as Longarm drew a loop of his own on the stiff paper and muttered, “If Johnny Hunts Alone, the Wendigo, or whomsoever is inside this I’m blind as a bat. Rain Crow’s searched most of these outlying settlements, so what’s this X? About five miles north of the railroad tracks?”
Durler let the loop collapse and stepped over to stare down at Longarm’s questioning finger. He shrugged and said, “That’s an old, abandoned sod house. A white homesteader built it back in the sixties. Before this land was set aside as a reservation.”
“What happened to the nesters? Government buy ‘em out?”
“No. They were wiped out by Indians. My Blackfoot say they didn’t do it. Others say they did. There’s not much left of the place. Just some tumble-down sod walls and a few charred timbers.”
“What about the well?” Longarm asked.
Durler looked puzzled. “The what?”
“The well,” Longarm repeated. “You can see there’s no stream bed within a mile. If they settled there, they had to have water, so there ought to be a well.”
“Gee, I don’t know, Longarm. I’ve only been out there once or twice. Don’t remember seeing a well.”
Longarm folded the map and put it away in a pocket, saying, “Ruined walls to cut the wind. Maybe water somewhere on the claim. Nobody living near it. Yep. I’ll have a look on my way into town this evening.”
“You’re not staying here tonight? Miss Lee’s moved into the house next door, so there’s plenty of room for you, and Nan’s expecting you for supper.”
“Uh, I’ll be staying in Switchback tonight. I’ll likely be … investigating till right late.”
“Hell, I’ll be up past midnight, Longarm.”
“I might be up even later. I’ll hunker down in town.”
“You’re on to something that will keep you up past midnight?”
Longarm managed not to grin as he said, “I’ll likely get some sleep, sooner or later.”
Chapter 9
The abandoned rains told their mute tale of frontier tragedy to Longarm’s practiced eye as he left his mount grazing on the surrounding short-grass to poke on foot through the rubble. It was late afternoon and his shadow lay long over the weed-grown tangle of charred furniture and heat-scorched metal framed by the knee-high walls of rain-washed sod. With the toe of his boot, he gently kicked a baby’s bottle, melted out of shape by fire, muttering, “Hope they had enough sense to send you away when the smoke-talk rose, little fellow.”
A dozen spent brass cartridges lay in the weeds under what had once been a windowsill. They were green with corrosion now, but they still bore witness to the desperation of a long-dead stranger who’d knelt there pumping lead as hostiles circled out there on the open prairie. Longarm wondered if he’d saved the last rounds for his family and himself as the fire-arrows landed, quivering, in the woodwork.
There were no signs of recent occupancy in the ruins. Longarm circled out until he came to the deep, grass- filled depression where the well had been. The wooden well head had been hauled away. The earthen walls, unprotected, had caved in. Longarm walked over to his grazing horse, muttering, “Not so much as a dried turd. But at least we can likely write this place off.”
He picked up the reins and mounted, shooting a glance at the low sun to his west as he swung the chestnut’s head toward Switchback.
The sun was still up, but dyeing the prairie red by the time he passed a marker indicating he was leaving the reservation. The town was just over the horizon, but hidden by the scrap line where the prairie took a sudden step into the sky. Longarm spotted a distant rider a mite to his south. The rider saw him about the same time and swung his way, coming fast.
Longarm kept his mount to a steady walk, and as the oncoming rider waved a hat, he saw it was Roping Sally.
He shook his head and swung to meet her as Sally called out, “Yaaahooo!”
As she joined him, Longarm said, “I don’t think you ought to be out here alone, Sally. I thought you’d be waiting for me at your spread.”
“I was, God damn it! You promised you’d come at sundown!”
“You’re wrong two ways, honey. I never promised and it’s not sundown yet.”
“Well, it’s almost sundown and I was getting worried. Every time I let you out of my sight you get in a gunfight and I-I’ve been hurtin’ for you, damn your eyes!”
“Honey, we’d best get something straight. I’ve got a job to do and you’re not my mother.”
“Does that mean I ain’t your gal any more?”
Longarm muttered under his breath. Then he smiled and said, “Hell, you’re the only gal worth having hereabouts. But I can’t have you riding all around Robin Hood’s barn after me. I want you to stay clear of this reservation, too. I’ve got enough on my plate without having to worry about you as well as the Indians.”
“Hot damn! I didn’t know you worried about me, too.”
“Well, I do, out in these parts. You know there’s some kind of lunatic running around out here at night, damn it!”
“I thought you’d shot all the rascals, honeybunch.”
“Well, I didn’t, and I’d rather be called late-for-breakfast than honeybunch. Those hired guns weren’t who I
