“If you don’t, Eli’s murderer will never be found. You see, I’m pretty sure he was killed because someone learned that he was going to help me find Jimmy Cox.”
“I doubt that.”
“The man was broke,” Longarm said. “He had nothing to steal. As far as I could tell, the only thing he had of value was the knowledge of where to start looking for Jimmy.”
“Pure speculation, Marshal.”
“When it comes to murder, I’m a good speculator, Preacher. And I need your help.”
“In what way could I possibly be of assistance?”
“if you three were close friends, then you must know where Jimmy Cox vanished. You’re the only hope I have of saving him.”
“I’m sure that it’s too late for that.”
Longarm’s jaw muscles corded. “But what if you are wrong?! What if Jimmy is still alive and is being held hostage while someone tries to learn the whereabouts of that Spanish treasure in gold coins?!” When the man didn’t answer, Longarm said, “Preacher, are you really willing to take that chance? Or, put in another way, to take away what might be Jimmy’s only chance to live?”
“No,” the man whispered, “I’m not. What do you propose?”
“I propose that you lead me to Jimmy Cox. Or at least to the vicinity of where he told you he discovered those gold coins.”
Preacher Dan pulled on his long white beard. “You seem very, very sure that I can do this.”
“You’re a man of faith,” Longarm said. “I could hear faith in your words as you spoke over Eli’s grave.”
“I have faith that the Lord will judge those who have murdered my friends. I have no faith in you, Marshal. Or in any other man.”
“Look,” Longarm said, desperate to find the words that would win this deeply religious but stubborn man over to his side, “Eli didn’t want to help me either, until I told him that there is a real possibility that Jimmy Cox is still alive, still being held captive until he either dies or breaks and tells where to find that treasure.”
“How do you know this?”
“I know it,” Longarm said, “because he sent me a newspaper and a note asking for help. That’s why I came all the way to this Arizona Territory. And that’s why I’m not going away until I either save Jimmy or give him a proper burial like Eli just received. But to do that, I need your help.”
“Very well,” Preacher Dan said after a long deliberation. “You shall have it to the extent that I can give it. But I warn you, I will not be a part or a party to vengeance. “Vengeance is mine alone, sayeth the Lord.’”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that, but I’ve also heard “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,’ Preacher. But don’t worry. I wouldn’t think of asking you to take up arms against rapists and murderers. Or to save either of our lives if we are walking into our own graves.”
“I don’t fear death. Do you?”
“Yes,” Longarm said, “I sure do. But then, I don’t have your faith either.”
“Perhaps it will grow as we go off into the desert.”
“Perhaps.”
The preacher frowned. “Do you have an outfit suitable for the desert country?”
“No, but I have the money to buy one.”
“Just as good. Give me the money and I’ll buy what you need for the journey we must take.”
Longarm handed Preacher Dan the money.
“There,” the man said, at last managing a smile. “You have just shown your first great act of faith in giving this money to a stranger.”
“You aren’t going to run out on me,” Longarm replied. “And I’m not going to let you out of my sight.”
The smile died. “Then you don’t have any faith in me.”
“I have faith in you,” Longarm said, pivoting around and gazing back toward Wickenburg. “I also have a very strong belief that we are being watched right now by the man that cut Eli’s throat last night. And that’s why we’re sticking close together until we leave this town.”
The preacher’s own eyes followed Longarm’s back to town. He seemed lost in some deep inner dilemma, but he finally dipped his chin in assent and led the way to Wickenburg’s largest general store, where they would outfit themselves for what Longarm was convinced would be a real ordeal.
Chapter 10
Longarm and the preacher named Dan rode out of Wickenburg headed southwest into the desert country.
“These are good horses,” Longarm said as they rode along. “Better’n a man can usually expect when he rents out of a livery.”
“I own the livery,” Dan said, looking a little embarrassed. “Along with a few other local businesses.”
Longarm was amazed. To look at Dan, you’d think he was a pauper. “You do?”
“That’s right,” the white-bearded man replied. “You act surprised, Marshal.”
“I am,” Longarm admitted.
