“No.”
“Damned if you ain’t the closest-mouthed son of a bitch I ever run into!” the gaffer exploded in angry frustration. “I guess I was Wrong about seeing you afore. I’d sure remember anybody that said nothing at all! Like a fellow I knew up on the Platte. He never talked much, either. We called him Windy. You ain’t him, though.”
“No. But Windy’ll do, for now.”
Longarm spoke abstractly. He didn’t remember having seen the old booze-hound before, but he’d brought in a lot of men, and this one would probably look different if he was younger, shaved, and sober.
“They call me Yazoo,” the old fellow said. “And there’s nobody at the house right now but Sam. Steed and Mckee have rode into town with Belle, but they oughta be getting back pretty quick—its close to suppertime. Bobby and Floyd’s down in the cabin, if it’s one of them you’re looking for.”
“I’ll wait for Belle,” Longarm said.
“Figured you would. If you’ll wait till I pour this mash in the hog trough, I’ll walk over to the house with you.”
Longarm swung out of his saddle. “I’ll give you a hand. That’s a pretty good load.”
Slopping hogs wasn’t Longarm’s idea of a job fit for a grown man, but he wanted to take the closest possible look at Yazoo. He picked up one of the buckets and walked beside the old man to the hogpen. He stood back while Yazoo poured the mash into the trough, though. The smell that had filled his nose while he carried the mash was enough to last him for a while.
“I guess it wouldn’t do no good to ask where you rode in from?” Yazoo prodded him as they walked toward the house.
“No.” Longarm was leading the bay, but giving Yazoo a good eyeballing in an unobtrusive way.
“Damn it, Windy, you’re with friends here. You don’t have to be so close-mouthed.” When Longarm made no answer, Yazoo shook his head. “I’m still sure I’ve run across you someplace, only I can’t locate you in my mind. Maybe it’ll come to me later on. Where else you been, Windy?”
“Here and there.”
“All right, damn it!” Yazoo snorted. “Don’t open up! It ain’t no skin off my ass. Belle’s going to want to know, though. She’s right particular about who she lets stay here.”
“Then maybe I won’t stay.”
“You’ll stay,” Yazoo said positively. “Else you never would’ve come here.”
They reached the house and rounded its corner. There were windows on this side, glassless, but with wooden shutters. A narrow porch with a shed roof extended along the front of the house, and through the open door Longarm could see someone moving around inside. With the sun at his back now, he could also see into the barn, where three or four horses and several mules paced around in the dimness under the high roof. Longarm saw no hitch rail, so he led the bay over to the barn and looped the reins around one of the supporting posts. When he turned back to face the house, there was a man standing on the porch, covering him with a rifle. Longarm noticed that brass-headed tacks had been driven into its stock to form a star.
Longarm spread his arms wide, his hands at shoulder level. “I reckon you’d be Sam Starr,” he said mildly.
“I reckon. And just who in hell are you?”
“Aw, this is Windy,” Yazoo said. “You don’t need to worry about him, Sam. He’s all right. I recognize him from someplace, leastwise I think I do. We been chinning it up by the hogpen.”
“You didn’t ask him here, did you?” Starr asked Yazoo.
“A’course not. He’s looking for Belle.”
“So are a lot of people.” Starr turned to Longarm. “Is Yazoo telling it straight? You know him?”
“He says I do. I’m like him, though. His face looks familiar, but I disremember where I saw him last.”
Slowly Starr lowered the gun. “Windy? Is that your name?”
“It’s good enough for me to travel under,” Longarm replied. He didn’t ask Starr’s permission to lower his arms, he just let them settle down slowly. When Starr made no objection, Longarm asked, “You mind if I wait for Mrs. Starr?”
“What’s your business with Belle?”
“I hear you and her take in paying guests now and then.”
“Damn it, Sam, Windy’s looking for a place to hole up for a while, can’t you see that?” Yazoo said.
Starr finally made up his mind. “I guess it’s all right,” he told Longarm. “Come on in and sit down. Belle ought to be here any minute, she just had some business to do in town.”
“That’s what Yazoo told me,” Longarm said, following Starr into the house.
He looked at the dim interior. It was no more attractive than the outside. A partition had been thrown across one end, and through its door he could see a tousled double bed. In the main room, which took up two-thirds of the dwelling, there were several chairs, a table, and a wood-burning stove that shared the chimney with a fireplace, now standing empty. Pots were on the stove, and the smells of cooking food mingled unidentifiably in the air.
Starr Went to the stove, lifted the lid of one of the pots, and stirred the contents. “I told Belle I’d have supper ready when she and the others got back,” he explained. “Well, sit down, Windy. You want a drink?
I’ll guarantee it; we make it right here on the place.”
“Pour me one while you’re at it, Sam,” Yazoo put in.
