boardwalk. Scott moved easily and seemed none the worse for wear, considering the destruction he had wreaked on the way out of the stronghold in Mexico.
“Howdy, Scott,” said Longarm. “I didn’t figure we’d ever see you again. You must’ve scooted pretty fast to get away from that avalanche.”
“I had to light a shuck, all right,” Scott agreed dryly. “But I got off the rim in time and worked my way back down to where I’d left Phantom. I thought maybe I could catch up to you boys before you got to the border, but I ran into this sandstorm that had other ideas.”
“Yeah, it slowed us down too,” said Coffin. “How come you changed the plan we had and headed for the gap with that dynamite, instead of the other end of the valley?”
Longarm had wondered about that himself. He wasn’t surprised when Scott said, “I overheard a couple of those owlhoots talking about how the guards at the gap had signaled down that those revolutionaries were about to enter the valley. I knew that would block your path for sure, so I went that direction instead of the other way and found a place where I could climb up above the opening.”
Coffin snorted in disbelief. “I looked at them cliffs. They looked mighty sheer to me.”
“I didn’t say it was an easy climb,” Scott said with a chuckle as he took the makin’s from his shirt pocket and began to roll a quirly.
Longarm took advantage of the opportunity to light up a cheroot, then blew out a lungful of smoke and said, “I guess considering everything, Coffin and I can forgive you for lying to us and acting like you were double-crossing us in that cantina.”
“I appreciate that,” said Scott. “But I’ve got to admit, Marshal, I probably lied to you more than once.”
Sanderson grinned at the tall drifter. “Goin’ to tell ‘em the truth, Walt?” he asked.
“Most of the star-packers in the border country know El Aguila,” said Sanderson. “We’ve all heard tell that he’s an outlaw—but we know not to believe everything we hear.”
Scott’s long fingers went to the broad leather belt around his waist and plucked something from a hidden pocket behind it. As he held out his hand, the light from a nearby window gleamed for a second on the thing that lay in his palm.
It was a silver star in a silver circle—the emblem of the Texas Rangers.
“Son of a bitch!” Coffin said. “You mean you’re really a Ranger, instead of an owlhoot?”
Scott stowed the badge away with a deft motion. “It comes in mighty handy sometimes for folks to believe that I’m crooked,” he said. “But Captain McNetty and Major Jones know the truth, and now so do you.”
Coffin shook his head. “I won’t say nothin’, Scott. You got my word on that.”
Longarm grinned around the cheroot in his mouth. “My memory’s getting plumb bad, Scott. I’ve already forgotten anything I just saw.”
“Thanks,” Scott said. He let out a low whistle, and the big black stallion emerged from the alley and came over beside the boardwalk. Scott swung up into the saddle and continued. “I’d better be riding. I’ve got word that there’s another little dustup brewing over in the Big Bend. Thought I’d go take a look, see if maybe I ought to play a hand or two.” He sketched a quick salute to the brim of his hat, then turned the stallion and rode away, vanishing into the night.
“Well, hell,” said Coffin with a sigh, “if that don’t beat all.” His attitude brightened. “I think I’m goin’ to hunt up Anna Marie. I ain’t seen her since we got back.” He glanced over ominously at Longarm. “Unless you want to fight me again over her.”
Longarm shook his head. “No, you go right ahead, Coffin. I’ve got a word of advice for you, though.”
“What?” Coffin asked suspiciously.
“Try being nice to her for a change, instead of acting like a big ol’ bull. You might be surprised how she responds.”
“You reckon?” Coffin frowned skeptically. “I ‘spose I can try it, but it ain’t really my style.” He ambled off down the boardwalk toward Kilroy’s.
When Coffin was gone, Sanderson looked curiously at Longarm and said, “That surprises me a mite. I didn’t figure you for the type to give up a gal to another fella like that and even tell him how he ought to court her.”
“Well,” said Longarm with a grin, “a gent don’t always have to wind up with the girl, now does he?”
