Shaw looked up at him from where he was sitting on the ground with his hands holding the post. He said, “Why, the money ain’t here, Custis. I hid it.”
Longarm stopped pulling up the girth on Shaw’s gray. He stepped around the horse and shifted his way through two others to get to where he could look directly at the outlaw. “What are you talking about, the money’s not here?”
“I mean it’s not here.”
Longarm stared at Shaw’s eyes for a long time. “YOU are lying, Jack, and there’s no sense in it. You ain’t going to be able to come back here and claim the money. You are going to prison if you don’t catch a rope. Now where is the money?”
Shaw jerked his head toward the north. “I cached it up yonder. Right after I kilt them last two, or kilt the one who kilt the other. I wanted to make sure the coast was clear to the border. I didn’t want the money with me. I feared it might give me away.” He touched his cheek where the birthmark was. “Not everybody was going to connect me with that robbery like you done.”
“Son of a bitch!” Longarm said. He turned and walked away a few steps. “Hell! Hell and damnnation! You have throwed me in a hell of a situation. Damn!”
He stood there staring back at the small mountains, distant in the thin air.
“What the hell is the matter?” Shaw said. “What are you so riled up about?”
Longarm faced around to him. “Hell, Jack, think for a minute. I bring you in in New Mexico. And I bring you in without the money. It ain’t going to look good. It ain’t going to look good at all. Not even a little bit.” Shaw said, “Aw, hell, Longarm, ain’t nobody gonna suspect you of stealin’ that swag. Hell, they’d suspect the President first.”
Longarm went close to him. “Are you lying to me, Jack?”
“Hell, no. I swear I stashed that money back just at the foot of the mountains. And for the reason I give you.”
Longarm glanced at the far-away hills. “I ain’t sure I believe you. How much was the take?”
Shaw looked hesitant.
Longarm said, “Dammit, Shaw, I ain’t putting up with this. Now, how much was it?”
Shaw grimaced. “Little over sixty thousand, though I didn’t count it down to the last ten spot.”
“How’d it come?”
“Some paper money, but mostly gold coin. Eagles and double eagles and twenty-dollar gold pieces. Some fifty- dollar gold cartwheels.”
“Sixty thousand, huh?” He whistled. “Not bad, Jack. No wonder you didn’t want to share.”
“It’s what I meant about not ever comin’ back here again. I figured to live the rest of my life on that money in Mexico.” Longarm said with disgust, “Aw, hell, Shaw. You couldn’t have gone six months without getting up to some crookedness. Do you really think you rob and kill for the money?” He suddenly shook his head. “The hell with that. You say you ain’t got it here?”
Shaw shook his head. “I’m telling you, Custis. It’s back yonder. A good fifteen, twenty-mile ride.”
Longarm said, “We’ll see.” He went through the back door and into the dim interior of the small cabin. He looked slowly around, up and down the walls and at the ceiling. The floor was hard-packed dirt. He walked carefully over it, looking for any signs of disturbance. There were none. Neither could he find a shovel or any other digging tool.
The only tool about the place was a wooden-tined pitchfork, and he couldn’t see where much could be done with that.
He walked slowly around the perimeter of the room, looking for places in the rock where something might be secreted. But sixty thousand dollars in coin and paper was quite a little bundle to hide.
He looked toward the ceiling, toward the few rafters that stretched across the roof. There was no sign of anything or any sign that anything had been disturbed. There was a small fireplace with a rock chimney. The fireplace was empty, but Longarm got down on his hands and knees and looked up the chimney. All he saw was a square of light blue sky.
He went back outside through the front door and walked carefully around the cabin and the corral, looking for any sign of where the money could be hidden. There was nothing outside on the featureless plain and nothing he could see inside the corral that might do for a place to make a cache. Shaw was swearing and cussing with every step Longarm took. “Dammit, Longarm, we got to get out of here! You gonna git me hung. Hell, I give myself up to you to avoid that. Now you goin’ to stick around here until it be too late. If I’d of stayed in the cabin I’d of at least been able to make a fight out of it. Damn you, Longarm, the goddamn money is not here!”
Longarm didn’t bother to answer. He stood, staring. It could be on the roof, but he didn’t see a ladder or any way of climbing the sheer walls of the cabin. Still, it might have been thrown up there with the idea of coming back with some way to get up there. He could at least have a look.
He ducked through the corral fence, went over to the windmill, and began carefully mounting the rickety iron rungs of the ladder that ran up one of the legs of the water-drawing apparatus. On the ground Shaw continued to cuss and rant. It only took Longarm about four rungs to be able to see on top of the cabin. Except for a few pieces of tumbleweed, the metal roof was bare. He came thoughtfully back to the ground.
Shaw said urgently, “You gonna get me hung, Longarm.
Longarm looked north toward the hills. He said, “You say it is cached back yonder?”
“Yes, hell, yes! Ain’t that what I been saying?”
Longarm sighed. “Then I reckon we will have to go and get it.”
Shaw went almost pale under his tan. He said, choking on the words, “Are you plumb loco? We’ll ride straight
