as nails, so Longarm knew that they would serve well as travois poles. It took him less than an hour to complete both travois and then to grain and water the horses.
After that, he loaded the extra travois with as much water as he could, then food, and covered it all with a piece of gray canvas and lashed it down tight.
“All right, horses,” he said. “We’re going to hitch these travois up to your saddles and you’re not going to give me any trouble. Is that clearly understood?”
The two horses proved to be calm and cooperative, but even at that, Longarm took no chances. In addition to keeping them tied to the sorrel’s saddle horn, he hobbled them both until both had accepted the travois.
After that, Longarm dragged the bodies of the five outlaws over to another hillside and created another rock slide to cover them up forever. It was a dirty, gruesome job. Especially considering the giant that Dan had beheaded with a powerful blast from the big shotgun. Burying the dead this way was a trick that he had often used. With tons of loose shale over the bodies, they would never be found or disturbed by wild animals.
“You got ‘em buried, huh?”
“Yeah,” Longarm said. “You want to give ‘em the last rites?”
“I guess not,” Dan replied.
“Let’s have ourselves something to eat and then get out of here,” Longarm decided out loud. “This place is too familiar with the dead.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Marshal, how many Spaniards do you think died here?”
“I have no idea.”
“You couldn’t tell anything from the bones?”
“I counted six different skulls, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the coyotes had carried a whole lot more than that out of the caves and then scattered them out in the desert.”
“I wonder what went wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Dan said, “that this must have been some important exploration party. Maybe a party set out by Coronado or some other important Spanish explorer.”
“I have no idea,” Longarm said. “I can’t even imagine why they would have carried gold coins.”
“To buy favors or peace from the hostile Indians they expected to come across, I’d guess.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Longarm said. “I wonder if the Indians had a role in their undoing.”
“Probably.”
Longarm looked closer at the old man. “Why do you say that?”
“Because,” Dan reasoned, “if the Apache or whatever bunch that were in these parts at the time were friendly, they would have saved the Spaniards. They would have known how to survive and find water and whatever else they needed. But the fact that they didn’t save the Spaniards tells me that they considered them to be enemies.”
Longarm figured that made a lot of sense. He didn’t know much about the history of exploration in the American Southwest, but he did know that the Spaniards had penetrated very deep into this country in search of the legendary Seven Lost Cities of Gold. They’d already plundered the Incan and Mayan cultures in Peru and Mexico and taken immense fortunes. No doubt their previous successes had convinced them that they would find even more riches in the Southwest. That expectation, however, had proved to be their fatal undoing. The Apache, Mojave, Pima, and other Arizona tribes were all as poor as church mice and not known to collect gold or silver.
“Marshal?”
“Yes?”
“Let’s go. Help me onto that travois and let’s get back to Wickenburg.”
That would suit Longarm just fine. He still had a job to do concerning Hank Bass and knew that his boss, Billy Vail, would be more than a little upset because of this latest long absence of communication. Longarm decided to telegraph Billy as soon as he reached Wickenburg, then get right after Hank Bass. With luck, he’d track the outlaw leader down in a week, two at the most, and then wrap this whole bloody business up tight.
“Here you go,” Longarm said, easing Dan onto the travois and then carefully tying him down with strips of leather.
“I don’t need to be tied down.”
“Sure you do,” Longarm argued. “We’re going over some real rough country. Country rough enough to bounce you off the travois. My eyes will be turned ahead, not behind watching out for you.”
“Are you suggesting that I could bounce off and you’d never know it?”
“That’s right. That could very easily happen and I’d be in such a hurry that I’d go miles before I discovered you were missing. That being the case, I doubt that I’d even bother to come back for you, Preacher.”
Dan didn’t fail to note the glint in Longarm’s eyes and he wasn’t a bit worried. “You just get in the saddle and head us for Wickenburg,” he said. “I’ll stay put on this thing.”
“Fair enough,” Longarm replied as he mounted the big sorrel and rode off, leading the two extra outlaw horses.
The sun was fading on the western horizon, and Longarm was full of admiration and even relief and gratitude. He was sorry that his old friend Jimmy Cox was dead, probably tortured mercilessly before his sad end. But Jimmy’s killers, with the sole exception of Hank Bass, had all paid the ultimate price with their own lives. Furthermore, all of the Spanish treasure would be used for charities. Longarm realized that, maybe except for a few coins, he’d give everything to Preacher Dan.
