stole it.”
Walthers blustered, “Damn it, man, what does it say?”
“What we all know. That Cotton Younger’s been picked up as a cow thief, here in Crooked Lance.”
“But if he intercepted it in Santa Fe… what do you make of Weed, a bounty hunter?”
“That’s a likely guess. Since Lew Wallace cleaned up New Mexico the territory’s filled with unemployed guns. From the way he spoke at the breakfast table, I’d say he rode with one side or the other in the Lincoln County War and has been looking for a new job. He heard about the folks here holding Cotton Younger, heard about the herd of rewards it might lead to, and was playing Foxy Grandpa. He did make you the best offer for your prisoner, didn’t he, Miss Kim?”
The redhead grimaced, not looking at the body, as she nodded and turned away. Longarm decided to push her further off balance by observing, brutally, “Yep, no telling how many bounty hunters we’ll have riding up here before long. Might even have the James and Younger Gang paying us a visit, as word of your hospitality gets around. You folks might as well know, one of Cotton Younger’s old sidekicks has already come and gone.
Timberline blinked and said, “The hell you say. Who was the varmint?”
The midget, Cedric, chortled, “The railroad dick. I knew it!”
Longarm shook his head and continued searching the corpse. “Nope. He’s taking Sailor Brown in for me. The Mountie, here, gets credit for unmasking him. He was that oldtimer pretending to be a Canuck.”
Timberline asked, “Who shot him, you or the feller Working for the railroad?”
“Don’t know who shot him. I suspicion it was the same one that shot Deputy Kincaid, the man from my outfit who never got here. Kincaid was from Missouri, so he might have known members of the James-Younger Gang on sight. I suspicion that’s why he was kept from getting here. Though, now that I think on it, MY own reception in Bitter Creek wasn’t all that friendly.”
Timberline said, “Hot damn! I see it all, now! This feller you just gunned down was pretending to be a Missouri Sheriff! Don’t that mean…”
“Slow down. It don’t mean more than another cud to chew, Timberline. Weed, here, couldn’t have shot the old man. Anybody could have done whatever to my partner, Kincaid. This situation’s getting more wheels within wheels than an eight-day clock.”
He found a pocket watch with an inscription and read, “‘To Alexander McSween on his fifth wedding anniversary.’ Looks like real silver, too.”
“You reckon that was the jasper’s real name, Longarm?”
“Not hardly. Alexander McSween was on the losing side of the Lincoln County War. They gunned him down with his wife watching, a couple of summers ago. I’d say this bounty hunter was one of them that did the gunning. No wonder he was so interested in Kid Antrim. The Kid rode for McSween. He made a bad slip by calling Billy the Kid Antrim instead of Bonney. Nobody aside from a few federal officers knows that name, outside Lincoln County.”
Kim Stover’s face was pale as she asked, “Do you think there’s a chance Billy the Kid could be headed this way, Mister Long?”
Longarm considered nodding, but thought honesty was perhaps the best policy when a lie might sound foolish. He shook his head and said, “Doubt it. Kid Antrim’s likely in Mexico, if he’s got a lick of sense. He’s a gunslick, not a bounty hunter. No way a wanted man could collect a reward. Unless, like this jasper, he figured to dress up like a lawman.”
He saw her relieved look and quickly shot it down by repeating, “All we have to worry about is Frank and Jesse James and company.”
Someone asked about the disposal of the remains and Stover quickly said, “I’ll bury him right decent for ten dollars. I figure there’s at least ten dollars on him ain’t there, Deputy Long?”
Longarm made a wry face and got to his feet, brushing off his knee as he said, “You’ll likely want two bits from him for breakfast, too.”
Stover nodded, pleased to see the big lawman was so agreeable, and oblivious of the disgusted looks others were casting his way.
Longarm said, “I’d best see if he had anything in his room,” and walked to the doorway, leaving the others to work out the funeral details as they saw fit. He saw that the Mountie was right behind him, but didn’t comment on it until the two of them were alone in the dead man’s room. As Longarm spread the contents of “Weed’s” saddle bags on the bed, the Mountie said, “That was smoothly done, Longarm.”
“Oh, it only made sense to have the drop on him before I told him he was under arrest.”
“Come now, I’ve made a few arrests myself. You know you could have taken him alive.”
“You don’t say?”
“I do say. You tricked him into slapping leather because you had no intention of having to take him in, without the man you came for.”
“I heard you Mounties were tolerable good. You likely know this job calls for considering things from all sides before you move. It didn’t pleasure me to trick that fool out there into making things simple, but I couldn’t leave him running loose.”
“I know what you did and why you did it. I know you got rid of the railroad detective rather neatly, too. I think it’s time we got something straight between us, Longarm.”
“I’m listening.”
“My organization’s not as old as your Texas Rangers, but we operate in much the same way.”
“I know. You always get your man. I read that somewhere. Don’t you reckon that’s a mite boastful?”
“No, I don’t. I have every intention of taking that prisoner, Cotton Younger, before Her Majesty’s Bar of
