“I guess so. But nobody noticed me that much.”
“You’ll have one hell of a job convincing me of that,” Floyd said.
“Oh, I can prove it, Floyd,” Longarm told him in a quiet voice, almost a whisper.
“I don’t see how.”
“Just keep a curb-rein on your curiosity until I’ve had a chance to go down to my cabin. I’ve got all the proof you could ask for,” Longarm said confidently.
“I can’t wait to see that,” Floyd said. He was almost sneering.
Longarm didn’t have to respond, because at that Moment Sam Starr stepped out onto the porch and called, “Dinner’s ready! Come on and eat before it gets cold!”
Although fried catfish wasn’t something he’d have ordered at his favorite steak house in Denver, Longarm had to admit that Starr’s version of it was very tasty indeed. Under a thin, crisp crust, the tender white flesh of the virtually boneless fish flaked off, moist and toothsome. The fluffy brown biscuits that went with the meal did double duty; after the fish had all been eaten, biscuits and warm honey provided an ample dessert.
After they’d eaten, Floyd said, “Well, Belle, maybe you and Sam and Windy and me better sit right here and finish up planning that bank job.”
“What about Steed and Bobby?” Longarm asked.
“They’ll do what I tell ‘em to,” Floyd replied. “Me and Steed’s worked together before. We won’t have any trouble. But with two or three new ones coming in-“
“Not now, Floyd,” Belle broke in decisively. “We’ll talk about the job after supper. Steed and Bobby will be back from Eufaula then, and we can get it all settled without having to go over everything two or three times. Besides, Sam and I have to spend the afternoon up at the stillhouse with Yazoo. He’s got to start a fresh batch of mash cooking in a day or so, and we’ll need more sugar for it. We need bottles too. We’ll be going to Eufaula tomorrow to pick up what we’ll have to have.”
“That’s right,” Yazoo piped up. “I got every barrel and keg filled plumb to the brim up there right now. I can’t keep making moonshine unless I got what I need to work with.”
“After supper suits me,” Longarm said. “We better get things settled pretty soon, though. I can’t hang around here forever.”
“You better hang around long enough to do what you’ve said you will,” Floyd snapped. “And another thing—you said you could prove that yarn you were spinning us a while ago, about what happened in Fort Smith. I’d like to see you do that, before we start planning a job you’ll be in with us on.”
“I’ll bring along my proof when I come up for supper,” Longarm promised. “Now, if everybody’s going to be busy, I’m going down to the cabin and get some shut-eye.”
Steed and Bobby had returned when Longarm came up to join the group for supper. He brought along the copy of the Fort Smith Elevator, keeping it folded so the headlines wouldn’t show. Floyd challenged him as soon as he walked into the house.
“Well, Windy? I told Steed and Bobby about that crazy yarn you handed me and Belle today. They want to see how you figure to prove it, too.”
“Sure.” Longarm unfolded the paper and held it up. “Read it yourself.”
There Was silence for several minutes while everyone in the room bent over the newspaper. Belle was the first to finish. She looked up at Longarm and started laughing.
“Well, by God, Windy, you’re as good as your word! You really did cut down that railroad bull And got away with it!”
Steed asked, “Did the son of a bitch really get off five shots at you before you knocked him Over?”
“Couldn’t help that, Steed,” Longarm explained. “He kept jumping behind one of those iron posts, there outside the depot. Wasn’t much way I could get a clean shot at him until I worked him around out in back.”
“I guess it happened just about like you said it did,” Floyd finally admitted. “Windy, the way that newspaper write-up reads, you’ll fit in with us just like gravy goes with potatoes.”
Bobby stared at Longarm goggle-eyed. “You really did kill a policeman, Windy? Shot it out with him, right there in the depot?”
“You read what the paper says, Bobby,” Longarm replied.
“Well, I got no more reason to hang back,” Steed announced. “If Windy’s notched himself up a cop, even just a railroad bull, he’s with us all the Way.”
“That’s how I’ve felt all along,” Belle told them.
“Now, we can get down to business after supper and finish up our plans.”
Supper was the first really cheerful meal that Longarm remembered having eaten at Younger’s Bend. Before, there had always been Floyd’s suspicion, or Belle’s badly hidden jealousy, or some kind of strain or pall hanging over the table. Two or three times, Floyd tried to bring up the impending job, but Belle put him off with a reminder that there’d be time to talk and plan later on. When they’d finished, Belle told Yazoo to go up to the stillhouse and bring back two or three fresh bottles of whiskey, and as soon as Sam had cleared the table, she indicated that she was ready at last for them to get down to business.
“We’ll have to make up our minds tonight which day we’re going to take the bank,” she began.
“What’s the hurry?” Floyd asked.
“I’ve found out that the bank’s going to get a shipment of gold and currency from the New Orleans mint in the next three or four days,” she replied. “If we go in on the fifth or sixth day, we’ll get most of it. We don’t want to be there before the shipment gets in, and we don’t want to wait too long, or a lot of it will have been handed out to the factors buying up the farm crops.”
