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.
