“Ain’t sure yet,” Longarm lied. “We’ll work it out come morning, after the troopers and that pesky captain leave.”
Longarm didn’t spend the night with Dances-Humming. For one thing, he couldn’t trust her. For another, he wasn’t sure he should take his clothes off. He spent the night in the agency, in a spare room next to Kim Stover’s. As he lay across the bed, fully dressed, he could hear the redhead moving about on the other side of the wall. Once he heard her using the chamber pot. It shouldn’t have made him think of what it did, but the redhead had a nice shape and it was hard not to picture what he caught himself seeing clearly in his mind.
He knew his boast had been spread around by now. Timberline had strutted off like a rooster, feeling important, most likely. Hungry Calf’s young men were watching to see if anyone tried to make a break for it.
They had instructions not to try and stop him/her. The killer-or killers—of Deputy Kincaid and that Missouri lawman were dangerous as hell, but wouldn’t get far, once they made their play.
He could hear the bedsprings under the woman in the next room. She seemed to be tossing and turning as if she found it hard to fall asleep, too. Longarm lay there, puffing his cheroot and blowing smoke rings at the ceiling as he thought about Kim Stover, mostly to keep awake.
There was a soft tap on his door. Longarm frowned and rolled quietly to his feet. He slid over to the door and asked, “Yeah?”
A man’s voice said, “It’s Captain Walthers. I’d like a word with you.”
Longarm muttered, “Shit,” and opened the door.
The army man didn’t come in. He said, “Some of those hands were talking to my troopers by the fire. What’s going on here, now?”
“You mean Timberline helping me transport a prisoner or two? You already said you wouldn’t do it.”
“I don’t owe you spit, but I’ll admit I’m curious. Do you really have anything nailed down, or are you trying to bluff someone into making a break for it?”
“I owe you an apology. You ain’t as dumb as you seem. I didn’t think it was possible, anyway.”
“I figured you were bluffing. Unless your suspect’s awfully dumb, he’ll figure it out as well. There’s hardly a chance of getting away from here. Anybody can see that. You let the Mountie get away with our prisoner because you weren’t expecting it. By now, you’ll have your Utes watching every route out of the reservation, won’t you?”
More to pass the time than in any hope of learning anything, Longarm said, “Maybe the one, or ones, I’m after ain’t as smart as you and me.”
“It’s not my mission, but I’ve put a few things together. Your friend, Kincaid, had worked in Missouri, as had the other missing lawman and the old man who apparently came to help Cotton Younger. That means your man is from Missouri, probably well-known there. He had to kill the three of them because they might have recognized him on sight.”
“You aiming to help me, or are we just jawing?”
“Unless you can nail a prisoner with a military charge, I have no authority to help you. Cotton Younger was the only possible member of the James-Younger gang wanted on an army warrant, and thanks to you, his corpse is halfway to Canada by now!”
“You do go by the book, don’t you? It’s no wonder Cotton Younger deserted your old army. It’s gotten chickenshit as hell since I was in the service. ‘Course, in those days we were fighting, not lookin’ up rules and regulations. It’s been nice talking to you, Captain.”
He closed the door softly in Walthers’s face. While he wanted to annoy the captain, he didn’t intend to disturb the lady next door.
He chuckled as he heard the angry boot-heels stamping off. If he couldn’t use the infernal soldiers, at least he might get rid of ‘em by rawhiding their leader every chance he got.
He sat on the bed and pondered whether to get some sleep or not. The Indians would awaken him if anything important happened. He knew he might have a hard day ahead of him, too.
A tiny beam of light caught his eye. He saw that it came from a chink in the pine panelling between the rooms. He shrugged. She was likely under the covers, anyway. He lay back and tried to doze, but sleep refused to come. He muttered, “What the hell, curious is curious.”
He got up and tiptoed to the wall, putting an eye to the peephole. He was almost too late. Kim Stover had just turned from the dressing table and was headed back for the bed, stark naked. Longarm held his breath as she crossed the room and snuffed the light before getting under the quilts. Then he went back to his own bed, grinning. He’d been right as rain. She was red-haired all over.
The army column rode out just after breakfast, taking their own sweet time, as always. Hungry Calf found Longarm eating beans by the pony line and said, “Nobody left last night. What does my brother think this means?”
“Means I was wrong, or that I’m up against somebody smarter than I figured. Are your young men watching the soldiers?”
“Of course. It is fun to scout them from the rimrock. Just like the old days. Both you and Agent Caldwell said it would be a bad thing to attack them. Could we just frighten them a little?”
“No. I just want to know when they’re clean off the reservation and out of my hair. I’d like to have that snoopy captain at least half a day’s ride away from me before I make my next move.”
“We will do it, but the way you white men do things is very boring. Do you always take so much time to take an enemy at a disadvantage?”
“Some of us do. Lucky for us, your fows never got the hang of it.”
“If you know who you’re after, why don’t you just kill him?”
“Like you said, our ways are boring. I have to be able to prove my suspicions in a court of law. Sometimes, when a bad white man is very clever, he refuses to fight. He just says he didn’t do it. Then I have to get twelve
