The U.S. Coast Guard was a branch of the Treasury Department instead of the Navy. But the sentry who challenged him at the gate wore a regular sailor suit of summer white with those leggings all sailors wore, for some reason, when they were ashore with rifles and cartridge belts. As Longarm showed the kid his badge and identification, he asked if those blamed leggings didn't itch in all this heat. The Coast Guardsman only sighed, and said he'd been told to expect someone from the Justice Department, adding Longarm would find the officer of the day at the headquarters building near the pier. Longarm didn't ask why they expected him to go there first.
It was considered polite as well as sensible to check in with the local law before you made any arrests in a strange town.
It felt like a day's forced march under that ferocious afternoon sun before he made it at last to the shady veranda running the full length of the freshly painted headquarters building. A junior grade lieutenant, equal to a first lieutenant in the army, came out of a doorway down the veranda in dress whites to tell Longarm they'd been starting to worry about him. As they shook hands, he introduced himself as a Lieutenant Junior Grade Devereaux, and said his boss, Lieutenant Flynn, was out chasing boys--or so it seemed to Longarm until he realized the young officer meant buoys, those floating markers they put out across the lagoon to show steamer pilots where to go.
As Devereaux led him inside Longarm remarked, 'I can see how your C.O. would be anxious about channels and such after that storm along this coast, But that reminds me of something I was meaning to ask you all. Studying the map along my way up here from Brownsville, I noticed that big old Padre Island off to the east blocks this part of your big lagoon from the open gulf So vessels putting in from the high seas can only enter the long lagoon well north of here.'
The officer of the day motioned Longarm to a wicker chair by the big oak desk he was holding down for his superior and dinged a bell on it as he agreed. 'Corpus Christi Pass. What's your question?'
Longarm replied, 'What you're doing down here instead of up yonder, where you might be able to guard this big lagoon better, no offense.'
Devereaux said, 'None taken. You're not the first landsman who's asked me about that. We're not the Navy. We're the Coast Guard. Our mission here is to maintain channel buoys through a stretch of shifting grounds and watch for shifty smaller vessels than the Navy might be worried about. You've no idea how many places there are for smugglers or even pirates to put in along an almost deserted coast facing a monstrous sheltered lagoon!'
Longarm didn't have to answer for the moment as an orderly the lieutenant had obviously sent for refreshments when Longarm had been crossing the parade ground came in with a tray. As he put it on the desk and popped to attention, Longarm saw he'd brought a fifth of Bombay gin, a soda-water syphon, and a couple of tall glasses packed to their brims with chopped ice. Longarm didn't notice the small pill box before Devereaux dismissed the orderly and picked it up, saying 'The British Navy's found it pays to stick to gin and tonic in the tropics. But quinine seems an acquired taste, so...'
'I only take medicine when I'm feeling poorly,' Longarm said. 'I ain't so sure about that ice either, this close to Old Mexico and the bellyaches that go with unboiled water down this way.'
Devereaux smiled as he poured tall drinks, with and without the tonic, saying, 'We get our ice at cost from Pryce & Doyle in town. They've assured us they boil all the water they put in their ice machine. As a matter of fact they furnish shops and even homes in Escondrijo with the clean modern ice they manufacture as a sideline to their meat packing.'
Longarm reached for his own glass as he said, 'I've seen their imposing packing plant. I'll take your word they know what they're up to down this way. What I really came out here to talk about was U.S. Deputy Marshall Gilbert and our federal prisoner, Clay Baldwin. I understand you've got 'em both out here?'
Devereaux nodded. 'Young Gilbert's in our sick bay, on orders of that federal germ chaser, Miss Richards. He seems to be feeling better, but Miss Richards says he's to stay in bed until she feels sure he won't run another fever, and she ought to know.'
Longarm nodded, sipped the drink cautiously, tired as he already felt, and said, 'I heard you've had some of that fever out this way as well. Where are you holding Baldwin, in your brig?'
Devereaux sounded reasonable as ever as he replied, 'We've gotten off much lighter than they have in town. The skipper thinks it might be because of our more healthful location. Baldwin's being held in solitary confinement on bread and water, pending your arrival.'
That didn't sound so reasonable to Longarm. The tall deputy put his barely tasted drink down and rose to his considerable height as he grimly asked, 'After a bout of a killing fever? Who ordered a diet of piss and punk for my sick prisoner?'
Devereaux sighed. 'Don't look at me. Lieutenant Flynn ordered him placed in solitary confinement after Baldwin called him a seagoing sissy who sat down to piss.'
Longarm smiled thinly at the picture. 'I'll have him in leg irons if he talks that way to me on the way back to Colorado. In the meanwhile, the man's been dangerously sick and I want him at least on a cot with some solid grub in him. I'm going to have to borrow a government mount off you, which I'll naturally sign for, and it's my understanding I'll find my own Winchester, saddle, and possibles out here, where Doc Richards had 'em brought from town.'
Devereaux looked unhappy. 'I'm afraid we can't let you into the quarters set aside for Miss Richards before she comes back from that fever ward she's set up in town. She usually has supper out here in the officers' mess just after retreat.'
Longarm nodded. 'I want her to look at both Gilbert and our prisoner before I carry either into town in any case. So let's get back to getting Baldwin out of that solitary cell and wrapping him around some solid rations!'
Devereaux almost pleaded, 'I can't! Lieutenant Flynn left me here to see his standing orders were carried out, not to countermand them in his absence! He'd have me before the mast for mutiny! You have to understand that Lieutenant Flynn runs a taut ship here!'
The collections of whitewashed buildings in a glorified sandbox wasn't Longarm's notion of any ship, but he saw the position the kid was in. So he asked when the ferocious Lieutenant Flynn was expected back, and when Devereaux said likely by sundown, Longarm said, 'Reckon Baldwin and my old McClellan can last that long without me. I'd like to see Deputy Gilbert now.'
The lieutenant rang that bell on the desk some more, and that orderly came in looking taut as ever. Devereaux told the enlisted man to show their guest to the sick bay. So it only took a few minutes, and then Longarm was alone with the pale but cheerful enough Rod Gilbert from his own outfit.
