Longarm closed the dead man’s eyes and got to his feet, heading down the slope. The little man would have been a messy load to carry. The cowhand who’d been careless about leaving firearms about could fetch him when he came to pick up his rifle.
Longarm made plenty of noise and called out, “It’s me, coming in!” as he approached the campsite. As others crowded around, asking all sorts of questions, he called out, “Let’s get some light on the subject. It’s all over.”
Someone kicked ashes off the banked coals and threw some sticks of kindling on. They blazed up. Longarm looked at Mabel Hanks, kneeling by an aspen sapling with her wrist chained to it, and said, “I’m sorry, ma’am. Your man is dead. Before he passed he named you as the murderer of Deputy Kincaid. He died before I could find out about the others, but…”
Then Mabel Hanks was screaming like a banshee and fighting her handcuffs like a chained grizzly as she glared at him insanely, calling him a mother-loving son-of-a-whore for openers. Then she really started talking dirty.
Longarm saw Kim Stover staring at the raging woman, openmouthed, and suggested, “You’d best go off and stop your ears, ma’am. I suspicion she’s a mite overwrought.”
“For God’s sake, she should be! You just said you killed her husband!”
“Yes, ma’am. He was trying to kill me, too. I was a mite better at it.”
Longarm had studied women, but the longer he’d been at it the harder it was to figure them out. After having called Mabel all sorts of things, Kim Stover went over to comfort her, as the more recent widow shouted, “He was twice the man you were, you son of a bitch!”
Timberline sidled up alongside Longarm, asking softly, “What was that about her killing them fellers?”
“Let’s put it this way: what he said to me was sort of fuzzy, but what I’ll remember to the judge might put her away for a spell.”
“Hot damn! You aim to railroad him, right?”
“Now, that’s putting it unfriendly, Timberline. Let’s say I’m worn out tying up all the loose ends of this case and, what the hell, I know for sure she shot at me. I’ll allow it ain’t neat, but at least it’s enough to satisfy a grand jury and let me get on to something more worthy of my time. I don’t really care if they convict her or not. I just want to be rid of this whole infernal mess!”
“You reckon any of us will get called as witnesses?”
“Why? Did any of you see her gun Kincaid or anyone else?”
“Hell, nobody but that old tattooed man ever got to Crooked Lance!”
“there you go. We’ll just deliver the gal to the Justice Department and let them worry about her.”
“You still need me as a deputy? I mean, what the hell, one old gal don’t seem to rate all this guarding, if you ask me.”
Longarm shrugged and said, “We’ll be in Salt Lake City by tomorrow afternoon, deputized or singing Dixie. It would be a favor if you were with me when I took her to the federal courthouse. I’ll likely need a witness, transporting a female prisoner as I just did.”
“A witness? Federal courthouse? You just said you wouldn’t need us in court. I wish you’d make up your mind.”
Longarm laughed and explained, “Not as a witness against her. As a witness for me, just while I sign her in. You’ve heard the mouth on her, and half the women a lawman brings in sing that same old tune of rape.”
Timberline’s eyes widened. Then he grinned lewdly, and exclaimed, “Hot damn! I never thought of that! A man would get some golden opportunities in your line of work, wouldn’t he?”
“People suspicion as much. A lawman with a lick of sense won’t trifle with female prisoners, though. Usually, I like to bring ‘em in with at least one deputy, making it two words against one. You won’t have to sign statements or anything. They’ll record you as my deputy and, of course, you’ll get a check from the Justice Department that you can cash in Bitter Creek when you and the others get off there.”
“Well, we’re all headed to Salt Lake City, anyways. what’s this thing about recording me?”
“You’ll be in our files as a sometime law man. It won’t interfere with your job at the Rocking H. We just like to keep a record on who’s for or against us.”
“Hell, that sounds good. Can I go on calling myself Deputy Malone?”
“Well, it wouldn’t be official once I drop you off the payrolL but I doubt if you’d get arrested for it. Malone’s your last name, huh?”
“Yeah, but you can call me Timberline like everybody else. They been joshing me so long with that fool name I’ve gotten used to it.”
One of the hands came over with a worried look and said, “I can’t find my saddle rifle. Anybody see a Henry.44-40?”
Longarm said, “Didn’t see it, but I know where it is. Get a tarp or a waterproof groundcloth and some latigos or twine. Got another package up the slope I’d be obliged if you’d wrap for me, seein’ you’re wearing leather chaps. My wool britches are soiled enough as it iS.”
Timberline followed Longarm and the cowhand up the slope to where their torchlight revealed the missing rifle ten yards from the toadlike body of the midget. Cedric Hanks had been ugly in life. Glaring up at them in death he looked like something that should have been carved on the parapets of Notre Dame. Timberline grimaced and said, “Funny, he looks so ugly for such a tiny thing. Didn’t it bother you, Longarm? Picking on somebody so much littler than you?”
“Why should it? Never bothers you, does it?”
“Hey, I thought we’d made up!”
