'Hands up!' Longarm called, stepping into the room with his gun in his fist. 'You're all under arrest!'
Ned Rowe's jaw dropped, and he jumped to his feet throwing his hands overhead. But the other pair, not knowing Longarm was a federal marshal and a dead shot, made the mistake of going for their guns.
Longarm's Colt bucked solidly in his fist, and an outlaw crashed over backward with a bullet through his heart. The second man was very fast, and actually cleared leather before Longarm's slug ripped into his shoulder and spun him completely around. The man cried out and his Colt skidded from his grasp.
'Ned,' Longarm said, 'you want to reach across with your left hand and yank your gun from its holster, then drop it to the floor.'
'Jeezus!' Ned choked, trying to smile. 'It's you! Deputy, I'm sure glad that you came in when you did. I was just about to...'
He started to lower his hands, but Longarm yelled, 'Keep your mouth shut and your hands high, Ned!'
'What the hell is the matter with you?' Ned cried. 'We was just playing cards. And you spooked Fergus and Johnny! You didn't need to shoot them!'
Longarm removed Ned's gun. 'Keep your hands over your head and turn around.'
'I don't know why you're doing this!' Ned said angrily. 'I've tried to help you every bit I can since you came to Laramie. I even figured to get some leads for you out here.'
'I'll bet,' Longarm said drily.
'Well, I was! These boys are outlaws! I figured that they'd know who was responsible for that train wreck.'
'So you just happened to start playing poker using stolen railroad stock certificates as money. Is that it?'
'That's what we were using?' Ned managed a grin. 'Hell, Deputy, I didn't know what they was! I swear that I never learned to read.'
Longarm didn't believe a word of that. He went over to examine the wounded man, who was writhing around on the floor clasping his riddled shoulder.
'Settle down,' Longarm said, mustering up all the sympathy he felt was warranted for a man who'd tried to shoot him.
'Jeezus but you're a cold-blooded bastard!' Ned exclaimed, staring at the dead man. 'You killed Johnny!'
'Better him than me.'
Longarm turned his attention back to Fergus. 'Here, he said, pulling out a handkerchief and punching it against the wound hard enough to make the outlaw bellow with pain. 'Plug it up and hope the bleeding quits before you do.'
Fergus accepted the handkerchief. His hand was trembling and his face was white with fear. 'Am I lung shot?'
'No.'
'Am I going to die?'
'Depends,' Longarm said.
Fergus stared up at him, waiting. Finally, he blurted out, 'Depends on what?'
'Depends on if I'm willing to take you to the nearest town and hunt up a doctor.'
Fergus pulled the handkerchief away from his wound, and his eyes widened with panic because the handkerchief was already soaked with blood. 'I'm bleeding real bad!'
'I want to know who is wrecking and robbing trains,' Longarm said, glancing over at Ned. 'I want names.'
'I don't got any names!' Fergus shouted. 'I'm a damned horse thief, Marshal! I never robbed a train before!'
'Yeah?' Longarm pulled a cheroot out of his coat pocket and took his time lighting it. He blew smoke in the wounded man's face. 'You can say that, but I got a feeling that you're a liar. Who derailed the train at Laramie Summit?'
'I don't know!'
Longarm grabbed Fergus by the shirtfront. 'You were playing with stocks taken from that train's safe! Now don't tell me you know nothing! Not if you want help!'
But Fergus stubbornly shook his head back and forth.
'I don't think he knows anything,' Ned Rowe said quietly.
Longarm took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. He focused his attention on the Laramie blacksmith. 'All right,' he said easily. 'Let's assume he doesn't know anything. So what do you know?'
'Me?'
'Yeah. The game is over, Ned. I want to know the truth. Who's behind the train robberies?'
'I've been helping you!'
Longarm went over to the man. He pressed the barrel of his Colt to Ned's crotch.
'Mister,' Longarm said, 'I'm cold, hungry, and tired. Furthermore, counting the dead man on the floor, I've killed three men that have crossed me in less than two days. Killing you and letting this self-admitted horse thief bleed to death just doesn't bother me a whole hell of a lot. Give me names!'
