“No, I intend to side with Longarm. He’s a friend of mine. I never met you before.”
Captain Walthers turned in his saddle to address a burly, middle-aged noncom, saying, “Sergeant! Arrest that man!”
The sergeant looked thoughtful and replied, “Begging the Captain’s pardon, but we’re on Indian land.”
“God damn it, Sergeant, are you afraid of Indians?”
“Ute Indians? Yessir, and Fort Douglas might just like to know our plans before the Captain starts an Indian war without their say-so.”
“I am surrounded by maniacs!” the captain protested to anyone who wanted his opinion. Then he scowled down at Caldwell and demanded, “Would you sic your tame Utes on us if we just took this sassy deputy off with us?”
Caldwell shrugged and said, “I don’t know how tame they might be if you tried to arrest their blood- brother, soldier. It’s my duty to try and keep them off the warpath and if they got unruly, I’d have to chide them for… whatever. You’ll notice I’ve told my wife to stay inside until this is settled. I’ve told these other folks to take cover, but nobody listens to me around here. Not even the Indians, when they get riled up about things.”
The sergeant leaned toward the captain to murmur, “Sir, some Utes are covering us from those houses on our left flank. Just saw some movement off to the right…”
“Damn it, the War Department’s going to get a full report on this entire matter!”
Caldwell asked mildly, “Would you like to send a telegram on my agency wire, Captain? It’ll be dark soon. You and your men are welcome to spend the night on my reservation.”
Walthers hesitated as Longarm cast an anxious glance at the sky. The damned sun was getting low again. That was the trouble with soldiers. They moved like greenhorns riding snails.
He suddenly brightened and asked, “Hey, Captain? As long as you and your troopers will be riding back to Fort Douglas in the morning, what do you say to helping me transport some prisoners to the Salt Lake railroad depot? From there I’ll make connections over the divide and down to Denver, and…”
“What prisoners are you talking about? Are you holding that army deserter after all?”
“No, the one we were all fighting over in Crooked Lance is dead and gone. I’m figuring on arresting the killer of Deputy Kincaid, once I tie up a few loose ends so…”
“You ask the army to help you, after the way you’ve thwarted me at every turn?”
“Well, it would be neighborly, and we are working for the same government, ain’t we?”
“How would you like to flap your wings and lay an egg, Longarm?”
“I thought it was funnier the first time I heard it. Does that mean you won’t help me?”
“I’d join the Mexican army first! As soon as my men and their mounts are rested I’m going back to Fort Douglas to file an official complaint, and you-you can go to the devil!”
“I’ll tell Marshal Vail you were asking about him. You’re leaving me in a bit of a bind, though. Can’t deputize these Indians to transport prisoners off the reservation. Yep, it figures to be a chore.”
For the first time since riding in, Captain Walthers looked pleased as he asked, “You don’t say? My heart bleeds for you, Longarm, but I just can’t reach you. I hope you sink, you—never mind. Ladies present.”
The captain wheeled and rode off to find a campsite for the night as his troopers followed, some of them grinning and one corporal tipping his hat to the ladies as he swung past.
Kim Stover asked, “What was that about you making some arrests?”
Longarm looked around, as if worried about being overheard before he confided, “I’m going to have to ask a favor, ma’am. Timberline?”
“I’m listening, but I don’t feel up to doing favors, either.”
“Just listen before you go off half-cocked. It’s a long, hard ride back to Crooked Lance, the way we’ve all come. On the other hand, it’s an easy downhill ride from here to Salt Lake City.”
“What in thunder do I want to go to Salt Lake City for?”
“A ride, of course. Free ride on the railroad back to Bitter Creek, from where you’ll be only a spit an’ a holler from Crooked Lance. Wouldn’t you like to save Miss Kim here, and the others, a long hard ride for home?”
“Maybe, but what’s the tricky part?”
“I aim to deputize you as a U.S. Deputy’s deputy. You’ll get a dollar a day, vittles, and a free ride almost home in exchange for doing nothing much.”
Kim Stover’s eyes widened as she smiled hopefully.
Cedric Hanks said, “Hell, why not deputize me? He’s only a cowboy, big as he may be! Me and Mabel are professionals!”
“I thought about it,” Longarm soothed, “but my boss ain’t partial to private detectives since he had a set- to with Allan Pinkerton’s Secret Service, during the war. As for your wife, I’ve never heard of a female working for the government.”
Timberline’s suspicion had faded to anticipation as he asked, “Would I get to wear a badge?”
“Not on temporary duty. As a peace officer, I’m empowered to deputize posses and such, but I won’t need more’n one hand to help me herd my suspects in.”
Mabel Hanks asked, “Who on earth are you talking about, Longarm? Who are you fixing to arrest?”
