and said, “We’ll be picking up speed in a mile or so. You want a drink of water?”
“No thanks. What was that all about?”
“We were talking about the timetable. Excuse me, ma’am. I’ll be back directly.”
He walked toward the front of the car, shifting on the balls of his feet as the car swayed under his boots. One of the two men in trail clothing looked up and whispered something to the heavier man at his side. The tougher- looking of the two narrowed his eyes thoughtfully but didn’t say anything until Longarm stopped right above them, letting the tail of his coat swing open to expose the polished walnut grips of his own Colt, and said, “You boys had best be getting off before we leave the yards. Might hurt a man to jump off a train doing more’n fifteen miles an hour or so.”
The one who had whispered asked, “What are you talking about? We’re on our way to Billings, mister.”
“No you ain’t. Not on this train. You see, I don’t want you to be upset about riding with colored folks, and since I aim to stay aboard all the way to Billings, we’d best make some adjustments to your delicate natures.”
The heavyset one with the gun looked thoughtfully at the weapon hanging above Longarm’s left hip and licked his lips before he said, “Look, nobody said you was colored, mister.”
“Is that a fact? Well, it’s likely the poor light in here; I’m pure Ethiopian. You want to make something out of it?”
“Hey, come on, you’re as white as we’uns. You wasn’t the one we was jawing ‘bout to that fool conductor!”
His companion added, “You just wait till we gits that troublemaker alone, mister. He had no call to repeat a gent’s observings.”
“Boys, this train’s gathering speed while we’re discussing your departure. You two aim to jump like sensible gents or do I have to throw you off unfriendly like?”
“Come on, you can’t put us off no train! We got us tickets to Billings!”
“Use ‘em on the next train north, then. I’ll tell you what I’m fixing to do. I’m fixing to count to ten. Then I’m going to draw.”
“Mister, you must be loco, drunk or both!”
“One!”
“Look here, we don’t want to hurt nobody, but-“
“Two!”
“Now you’re getting us riled, mister!”
“Three!”
“Well, damn it, Fats, you got the damned old gun!”
“Four!”
The heavyset one went for his Patterson.
He didn’t make it. Longarm’s five-inch muzzle, its front sight filed off for such events, was out and covering him before Fats had a serious hold on his own grips. The drover snatched his hand from his sidearm as if it had stung his palm as he gasped, “I give! I give! Don’t do it, mister!”
“You did say something about disembarking, didn’t you, gents?”
“Look, you’ve made us crawfish. Can’t we leave it at that?”
“Nope. You made me draw, so now you’re getting off, one way or the other. Let’s go, boys.” After a moment’s hesitation, Fats shrugged and said,“Let’s go, Curley. No sense arguing with a crazy man when he’s got the drop on us.”
His younger sidekick protested, “I can’t believe this! I thought you was tough, Fats!”
But he, too, slid out of the seat and followed as Longarm frog-marched the two of them out to the vestibule between the cars. Fats looked down at the blurring road ballast and protested, “Hey, it’s goin’ too fast!”
“All the more reason to jump while there’s still time. It’ll be going faster, directly.”
“You got a name, mister?”
“Yep. My handle’s Custis Long. You aim to look me up sometime, Fats?”
“Just don’t be in Billings when we gits there, mister. We got us friends in Billings!”
Then he jumped, rolling ass-over-tea-kettle as he hit the dirt at twenty-odd miles an hour. Longarm saw that he wasn’t hurt, and as the younger one tried to protest some more, he ended the discussion by shoving him, screaming, from the platform.
Longarm holstered his gun with a dry smile and went back to where he’d left Gloria. The petite breed’s face was blank but her eyes glistened as she said, “You didn’t have to do that to impress me. You’ve already called me ‘ma’am.’”
Longarm sat down on the seat across from her, placed his battered Stetson on the green plush beside him, and said, “Didn’t do it for you. Did it for myself.”
“You mean they offended your sense of gallantry?”
“Nope. Just made common sense. They got on drunk and ugly and we have a good twelve hours’ ride ahead. Had I given ‘em time to work themselves up all afternoon, I’d likely have had a killing matter on my hands by sundown. This way, nobody got hurt.”
“One of them might dispute you on that point. I was watching out the window. The fall tore his shirt half off
