train. He walked about looking for a place where he could hide and watch the passengers as they disembarked from the train. But the passenger platform was too well lit. He could be easily spotted. Then, a sudden thought occurred to him. He looked inside the glass and saw that the same telegrapher was on duty that had been there when he sent the telegram to Billy Vail. He went inside the passenger part of the depot and then ducked quickly into the office where the telegrapher sat.
The man looked up as Longarm entered and said, “Well, you may be the famous Longarm, but you ain’t supposed to be in here.”
Longarm figured he could trust the man—hell, he had to trust him. He said, “Look, I have every reason to believe that Judge Richard Harding is coming in on the eight o’clock train. I don’t want him to see me. I’m going to get down here on the floor next to your desk where I can’t be seen. Can you see where they unload the passengers?”
The telegrapher leaned over and spit tobacco juice into a spittoon. He said, “Yeah, I can see ‘em. I can tell you right quick if he gets off.”
“Good,” Longarm said. “You’re going to be my eyes.”
The telegrapher leaned back and looked at Longarm. He said, “What’s the job pay?”
Longarm said, “It’s good for one free pass to get out of jail, in case I ever put you in.”
The telegrapher nodded. “Sounds damned good.” He nodded his head toward the corner. “If you’ll sit down there on the floor where that wastebasket is, ain’t nobody gonna be able to see you, even if they come in from out there on the platform. I can watch and I’ll tell you what they do.”
Longarm said, “I’m obliged.” He moved the wastebasket and sat down in the corner. The glass front of the telegrapher’s booth did not run all the way across. Where he was sitting, the wall was solid on the platform side and solid halfway across on the passenger waiting-room side.
Longarm took off his hat and settled down. He said, “See any sign of the train?”
The telegrapher looked down the track. He said, “I can barely make out a light flashing. That’ll be it, and right on time, too.”
It was not a long wait. After a few minutes, Longarm felt the floor begin to tremble beneath him. A moment or two later it seemed, the train came smoking an clanging and huffing and puffing and thundering and squealing into the station. He heard it sigh to a stop as it expelled steam from its boiler.
The telegrapher said, “The passengers are starting to get out of two cars, one right beside you and one down the track. A lady got off … that ain’t him. Another lady got off … that ain’t him. Well, there’s a man got off one car down the track. He’s done got off and looking back up. Another man’s got off. Here comes a man down … got chains on his wrists or handcuffs or whatever you call them.”
Longarm tried to keep the excitement out of his voice. “That would be them.”
“Yep. And there’s good old Judge Richard Harding, the last one out. He’s carrying a valise. The others, well, two of them have saddlebags and the one with the manacles, he ain’t carrying nothing.”
Longarm asked, “Well, what are they doing now?”
The telegrapher watched for a moment. “They’re a-talkin’.” He paused for a moment. “Now they’re looking around. One of them that ain’t the judge and ain’t the one in the handcuffs is walking down this way and having a look. He’s done gone by. I can’t see him no more. The other one that ain’t the judge and ain’t the one in handcuffs is looking off the other end of the passenger platform. Now he’s coming back. Now here comes the other one back. Now they’re all talking and they’re all walking toward the edge of the platform toward the steps on the town side.”
“Have they stepped down yet?” asked Longarm.
“No. Well, one of them has. He’s going down the steps and now he’s starting down the road,” said the telegrapher. “The other three are just standing there. Now he’s out of my sight and they’re watching him.”
“What about Harding? Was it Harding?”
“Nope. It was one of them that … well, let’s just call him one of them that has a gun on. The other one with the gun and the one with the handcuffs is there and Judge Harding is there and they are just standing there, waiting.”
“Where do you suppose that other one is going?”
The old man said, “Well, I don’t know about you, Marshal, but if I had just come in on the train and no one had met me, I’d be going to the livery stables to get a buggy or a buckboard or some horses.”
Longarm chuckled slightly. “We could use a man like you. I like the way you think.”
The telegrapher said dryly, “You didn’t like it so well the other night when you were showing me that big pistol for a badge.”
“Someday I will tell you what kind of mood and shape I was in. Maybe then you’ll understand.”
“Oh, it didn’t bother me none. I got to tell everybody that I’d had a gun drawn on me by the famous Longarm and made him put it away.”
Longarm chuckled again. “That you did. Keep watching.”
It was a long wait in terms of anticipation. In minutes, it was only about ten. The telegrapher said, “Yep. That was it. The one that walked off is pulling up with a buckboard. He’s driving a two-horse team. Now the other three are going down the steps. The judge is getting in the front seat with the driver and the other two are getting in the back. The other gunman is shoving the one that’s manacled up into the back. By the way, I didn’t tell you that the one that has the manacles on has something tied across his mouth. Looks like a handkerchief. It appears they gagged the man.”
Longarm said grimly, “I don’t blame them.”
“They’re treating him pretty rough, but they’re allowing him to sit up now. He made a motion right then to try and get over the side of the buckboard, but that wasn’t very smart because that gunman drug him back right smart.”
