Brodie was thrown off balance. 'What do you mean?'
Longarm saw no point in further conversation. He walked over to Brodie and drew his six-gun. 'I'm putting you under arrest for the murder of Don Luis.'
'What!'
Juan Ortega, who had been about to take a sip of coffee, dropped his hand to the table, spilling the coffee. He started to come to his feet, but Longarm's words stopped him cold.
'Ortega, I don't know if you and those other two relatives were in cahoots with Brodie or not. Until I do, you'd better stay on this ranch. Understand me?'
Ortega was not armed. He was a thin man, dark and dangerous-looking, with cruel black eyes. 'I think you are making a big mistake,' he said, removing a napkin from his shirtfront and slapping it down over his spilled coffee.
'If I am,' Longarm said, 'I'll live with it. Now, keep your hands up on the table where I can see them. We're leaving and I won't brook any interference.'
'This is crazy!' Brodie protested. 'I'm not a murderer!'
Longarm jammed his gun into Brodie's spine and prodded him toward the front door. 'Just keep your mouth shut and move.'
'Are you taking me to jail?'
'Not here in Prescott,' Longarm said, 'where you can have your friend Haggerty set you free the minute I turn my back. No, sir, we're on our way to Yuma.'
'Yuma! This is insane! Are you out of your mind, Marshal!'
'Nope. I think we've finally got this thing sorted out as to who really killed Don Luis. It was you, Hal.'
'You are insane!'
'Maybe,' Longarm said, jabbing the man hard in the spine and propelling him toward the door. 'But we can let a jury make that determination.'
I'm not going to Yuma!'
'The hell you say,' Longarm gritted. 'And when we get there, you can see Lucy and tell her yourself how you murdered her husband and tried to get Maria Escobar to lie about it.'
'What?'
Longarm caught sight of Miguel Rivera, the cook, and said, 'I expect you haven't a clue as to what was in store for you, Rivera, but you were going to take the fall for the murder of Don Luis.'
The cook just blinked, not really comprehending.
Longarm didn't care. He shoved Brodie out the door and into the yard. 'Let's find you a horse and ride.'
Brodie looked around wildly for help and, seeing none, he stammered, 'If Maria said that she saw me kill Don Luis, she's lying!'
'I don't think so.'
'It'll just be her word against mine. That won't stand up in any court!'
'I think it will,' Longarm said. 'You had the motive and the means. You had everything to gain by killing Don Luis--his wife and his ranch. What would Maria stand to gain by lying?'
'She's blackmailing me!'
'Tell it to a jury.' Longarm shoved Brodie toward the corral. 'Saddle and bridle your horse. We're getting out of here.'
Brodie looked around wildly, and then he shouted. 'Juan! Manuel! Renaldo! Someone help me!'
'No one is going to help you,' Longarm said. 'Now grab a bridle and a horse!'
But Brodie wasn't listening. He spun around toward the house. 'If you don't help me, I'll tell them everything!'
Longarm took two quick steps and brought the heavy barrel of his pistol crashing down across Brodie's skull. The man's eyes rolled up into his skull and he collapsed.
Longarm took a bridle and went into the corral. There were five horses and he knew that the chestnut belonged to Brodie, so he bridled the animal and led it over to the tack room, where he found a saddle. In minutes he had the chestnut saddled, and then he led it back to the unconscious rancher.
'By the time you come around,' he said, holstering his gun so that he could drag Brodie to his feet, 'we'll be halfway to Wickenburg.'
Longarm heaved Brodie up across his saddle and tied him down with a lariat. Then he got his own horse and mounted, keeping an eye on the ranch house. He did not know if Don Luis's worthless relatives were in on this murder, but he suspected that they might be. Maybe Brodie would carry out his threat, in which case the three would be arrested as accomplices to murder.
But that was something that would have to be faced later.
Longarm rode out of the yard at a trot, leading Brodie's horse with its rider draped unconscious across his saddle. It was another forty miles back down to Wickenburg and Longarm was getting mighty weary of the trip, but he was also satisfied that justice was finally being carried out.
'You're going to either hang or you're going to spend the rest of your natural life in the Yuma Territorial Prison,' he told the unconscious rancher as they trotted south.
