saved his worthless life.'
'Oh, dear!' Veronica looked away. 'I know that there are men that evil, but I've never met one.'
'Consider yourself very lucky,' Longarm said with conviction. 'Where are you from?'
'Iowa. I was raised on a farm. I was raised by a farmer and fell in love with a boy who became a farmer.'
'You're married?'
'No, Mr. Long. Three months ago a tornado came through our little town and killed my fiance. It wiped out our family farm and flattened our school, church, and most of Grover City's main street.'
'I'm sorry.'
'It was a disaster. I decided to go West and try to start over again. It was too painful to remain in Grover City. Fortunately, I was able to secure the promise of employment in Reno. I understand that the person I replace has contracted some sort of very serious illness and must for sake the classroom at once.'
'I see.'
They chatted for a few more moments, then lapsed into a comfortable silence. Longarm briskly rubbed his hands together trying to warm them. He leaned his head back against the seat cushion feeling angry and even a little depressed for having lost another prisoner. Fergus was the fourth man he'd killed while on this case; only Ned Rowe, of the gang members he'd encountered, had escaped with his life.
'I think,' Veronica observed after about an hour, 'that the storm is passing on.'
Longarm gazed out the window and then at Veronica. 'There is no doubt that the sun is going to shine again.'
'Mat's an odd way of putting it.'
'I just meant that your eyes are as blue and lovely as a summer sky and your smile is warmer than any sunlight.'
Veronica blushed. 'My, you are a flatterer!'
'I'm an honest man.'
'Not entirely.'
'What does that mean?'
'It means that just before you came, the conductor passed through saying that an outlaw had been shot by a deputy in the mail car.'
'I see. Then why, Miss Greenwald, did you pretend not to know?'
'I'm sorry. I wanted to hear you tell me what happened.' Veronica smiled. 'Really, Mr. Long, why did you tell me that the prisoner was poisoned?'
'Because he was! He died of a very sudden and severe case of lead poisoning.'
It wasn't meant as a joke, and Veronica did not laugh or even smile. She just blinked, her eyes large and luminous behind her glasses as she regarded her companion for a moment and then turned to stare out the window.
At Rock Springs, Longarm sent Billy Vail another telegram:
EN ROUTE TO RENO STOP NED ROWE ESCAPED NEAR LARAMIE STOP OTHER PRISONERS ALL CONTRACTED FATAL DOSE OF LEAD POISONING STOP REPLY TO RENO AT ONCE STOP
'A fatal dose of lead poisoning?' the telegraph operator asked with raised eyebrows.
'Just send the message, okay?'
'Sure thing.'
Once his telegram had been sent, Longarm hurried outside. He considered visiting the sheriff, who was his friend, but when he passed by the man's office, it was locked and empty.
Longarm was amazed at how Rock Springs was growing. The streets were filled with wagons and pedestrians. And while there were some ranches and farms in the neighborhood, as evidenced by a handful of cowboys, Rock Springs was unquestionably a railroad town. Its coal mines, owned by the Union Pacific, were among the largest west of the Mississippi River and of vital importance to keeping the railroad moving. Because of the prominence of coal mining, there were huge open-pit mines nearby and dozens of spur tracks leading off to those gaping pits.
Like Laramie and Cheyenne, Rock Springs could boast a colorful past. In 1861, a Pony Express rider, detouring to escape marauding Indians, had discovered the sweet-water springs flowing out of a massive rock formation. This had given Rock Springs its name. Later, the site became a stage station, and when the Union Pacific arrived, the town had already mushroomed into one of the largest in the territory, and boasted a growing population and evidence of continuing prosperity.
About ten years earlier, a significant Chinese population had been recruited to Rock Springs by its mine owners in order to defeat a miners' strike. Longarm recalled that a mob of whites had soon attacked and pillaged the thriving Chinatown and set it on fire. The leaders of the mob had put a twenty-dollar bounty on every Chinaman, and six hundred dollars had been claimed before the Governor of Wyoming had sent federal troops in to stop further loss of life among the terrified Chinese. Now, as Longarm hurried up K Street, he could see that Chinatown had been rebuilt larger than ever.
'I want a bath and a shave,' Longarm told the Chinaman in the barbershop.
The man bowed and hurried away, his long, braided queue bobbing like a cork on a fishing line. In minutes, Longarm was soaking in a copper tub while the Chinaman washed, dried, and pressed his clothes, then poured Longarm a cup of delicious herb tea and waited to give him the finest shave of his life.
Two hours later and only a dollar shorter, Longarm returned to board the train. He caught his reflection in the train windows, and was satisfied that he was looking almost human again.
