'Well, there the horse is,' Ned told him, pointing to a thin roan gelding. 'He looks damned hard-used, don't he?'
'He sure does.'
Longarm went over and picked up the roan's right front foot. He inspected the broken shoe and said, 'This is the horse, all right.'
'What are we going to do?'
'Shoe the animal,' Longarm said after a moment.
'You mean you're not going to arrest the man?'
'I'd rather follow him awhile and see what he's up to,' Longarm said, realizing that he had little choice but to explain. 'Most likely, he'll lead me to other members of the gang.'
'Yeah!' Ned chuckled. 'That sure makes good sense. Maybe we can scoop up the whole bunch!'
'There's no we in this,' Longarm said. 'You just shoe the horse quick and then act natural when its owner returns. I'll follow him.'
'But I want to help!'
'Stay out of it!' Longarm snapped. 'This isn't your line of work. If there's a capture and reward, I promise it will come to you. But don't mess me up, Ned.'
'I know how to take care of myself,' Ned told him in an injured voice.
'I'm sure that you do,' Longarm said. 'But it would just be better if you played your part and left me to handle the rest of it.'
Ned didn't act pleased to be excluded, but after more persuasion he agreed to do as Longarm insisted.
'I better get to work,' Ned stated. 'That fella could be back any time and he's expecting me to be finished with his horse.'
'I'll be watching,' Longarm promised. 'I'll be hiding back in your shop. Everything will turn out just fine.'
'I hope this one is a murderer and that there is a big reward on his head.'
'Yeah,' Longarm said, moving into the dim recesses of the blacksmith's shop.
Longarm waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, he struck a match and saw that it was almost noon and that Milly and Blake Huntington would be meeting for lunch.
'Pssst!' Longarm hissed. 'Ned!'
The blacksmith had long since finished a hurried shoeing job on the roan, and was once again looking up the street for its owner.
'Pssst! Ned!'
'What?' the blacksmith snapped.
'Come in here for a minute.'
Ned took one last look around and marched inside. He was angry and disappointed that the roan's owner had failed to appear as promised. 'Deputy, just what the hell do you suppose happened to that guy?'
'I don't know,' Longarm said, 'but I've got to be somewhere else for the next fifteen or twenty minutes.'
'You're leaving?'
'I have to go,' Longarm said, realizing that an explanation was warranted but unwilling to offer one to the blacksmith. 'If our man returns, stall him awhile. I'll return as soon as I can.'
'What if he won't be stalled?'
'Then follow him!'
Ned swore in anger. 'You said you wanted to follow him alone.'
'Look, Ned,' Longarm said, 'I have to go for a few minutes. I'll be back as soon as I can.'
He rushed outside and almost collided with a man.
'Deputy Long!' the man shouted, stabbing for his sixgun.
Longarm's own hand made a hurried cross draw for his Colt. He dragged his gun out and fired twice. Then he rolled and fired once more.
The man emptied his gun into the dirt, then pitched forward and was dead before he struck the ground.
'Dammit, that's not what I wanted!' Longarm swore, kneeling beside the dead man and quickly rifling his pockets for clues. All he found was money--about a hundred dollars, which he stuffed in his coat pocket.
'Hey!' Ned Rowe exclaimed. 'If you're keeping that fella's money, what in the hell am I going to get out of this?'
'Is this the man we were waiting for?'
'Damn right.'
'Then you get the roan horse and saddle,' Longarm said, furious with the way things had turned out. 'That is, if you keep your mouth shut.'
'But what about all that money?'
