Instinctively, Padgett reached up to catch the money and exclaimed, “What-“

Longarm drew the Colt, leveled it, and cocked it in the same motion. The sight of the gun brought startled curses from several of the horse owners and the other bystanders, and quite a few of them began scrambling backward to get out of the way of any gunfire. “Don’t move, Senator,” Longarm said as the winner’s circle practically cleared out around them. A few yards away, Janice and Julie Cassidy were staring at him in a mixture of confusion and horror, as was Leon Mercer.

Padgett recovered his tongue first. “What the bloody hell is this all about?” he demanded furiously. “Put that gun down, Marshal!”

Longarm shook his head slowly. “You’re under arrest, Senator, for murder, conspiracy, and possession of counterfeit money.”

“Counterfeit money? Possession? You threw it at me!”

Padgett shook the bundle of bills at Longarm, his hand trembling from the depth of his emotion.

“There’s plenty more where that came from, hidden in the false bottom of one of your bags.”

“That’s a lie! I never saw this money before, or any other counterfeit money!” Padgett drew his shoulders back and puffed up his chest. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to, Marshal? By God, I’ll have your badge for this! I’m going to wire Marshal Vail right now-“

Padgett started to take a step forward, but Longarm pointed the muzzle of the .44 right at his forehead, making him come to an abrupt stop. “I know who I’m talking to,” Longarm said coolly. “I’m talking to a murdering bastard who used his positions—position the people of Colorado elected him to!—to organize a counterfeiting ring that could’ve brought the whole country’s economy crashing down if you hadn’t been stopped. Well, you have been stopped, here and now.” Longarm waggled the barrel of his pistol. “I know you’re carrying a gun, Senator. Take it out with your left hand, nice and easy, and put it on the ground.”

Leon Mercer took a step toward Longarm, saying, “Marshal, this is insane! The senator couldn’t have-“

“Back off, Leon, or I’ll crack this six-shooter right across that bald noggin of yours!”

Mercer’s eyes bugged out, and he stepped back with a frightened gulp.

Padgett regarded Longarm narrowly. “You’re going to regret this, Long,” he said. “You’re going to regret this more than anything you’ve ever done in your life.”

“I doubt it,” Longarm said with a smirk. “What I really regret is voting for you a time or two before, back when I didn’t know what a low-down skunk you really are.”

Goaded beyond endurance, Padgett let out a howl and flung the bundle of phony bills back at Longarm. He charged right behind the money, swinging a fist at the lawman’s head.

Longarm let the money bounce harmlessly off his chest and set his feet for the straight, hard punch he shot out with his left. His fist smashed into Padgett’s mouth and snapped the senator’s head back. Padgett flew backward, arms windmilling, and crashed down heavily on his rump. Blood welled between his fingers as he pressed his hand to his pulped lips and groaned thickly.

Longarm stepped over to him, bent, and jerked the little pistol from the holster under Padgett’s coat. “On your feet,” he said grimly as he stepped back again. “I reckon, Senator, that your next term’s going to be served behind bars.”

Chapter 12

Well, thought Longarm as he was leaving the Carson City jail an hour or so later, that had gone about as well as could be expected. The sheriff and the jailer had been mighty impressed by the fact that they now had an actual United States senator locked up in their hoosegow. “Don’t get used to it, boys,” Longarm had warned them. “Most of them politicians are just too damned slick for us poor lawmen to ever catch up to ‘em when they’re up to no good.”

The local badges had been disappointed when Longarm had said that he wanted to interrogate Padgett privately in the senator’s cell. It was federal business, though, so they had reluctantly agreed and left Longarm alone with his prisoner in the cell block.

Now Longarm paused outside the jail and lit a cheroot, inhaling gratefully on the smoke. For the first time in quite a while, he didn’t feel as if he had a bull’s-eye painted on his back. He could go on about his business now without having to worry overmuch about anybody trying to kill him.

The first thing he wanted was some dinner. He headed for the hotel, and as he expected, quite a few people were waiting in the lobby to ask him questions. Most of them were horse owners or other folks connected with the racing circuit. They had witnessed his arrest of Miles Padgett and were burning up with curiosity.

Longarm held up his hands to quiet the crowd that formed around him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you folks anything. The arrest of Senator Padgett is strictly a federal matter, and I’m referring all questions to the Justice Department in Washington.” He looked at a couple of reporters from the local newspaper, both of whom had their mouths open to shout questions at him. “That goes for you gentlemen of the press too,” Longarm said. “If there’s anything you want to know, you can wire Washington.”

“But that’s not fair, Marshal!” wailed one of the scribblers. “You’re right here! Why can’t you tell us all about it?”

“Because that’s not my job,” Longarm said. “My job’s to bring in crooks who violate federal law, and that’s what I’ve done. My part of it is finished.”

Stubbornly, he ignored the other questions that were called out to him and pushed his way through the crowd. As he went up the stairs to the second floor, anxious to get back to the suite, he reflected that he hadn’t seen the Cassidy sisters downstairs in the mob. He wondered where they were.

That question was answered a moment later when he unlocked his door and stepped into the sitting room. Janice and Julie were waiting for him there, Janice sitting in a wing-back armchair, Julie perched on the edge of the sofa. Both of them wore anxious expressions.

“We persuaded the desk clerk to let us wait in here for you,” Julie explained quickly before Longarm could say anything. “I hope that’s all right, Custis.”

Longarm took off his hat and tossed it on the sofa. “Sure. What fella wouldn’t like to come back to his hotel

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