the line much further than ten miles out of Springer. Someone just keeps tearing up our tracks.”
Longarm looked at him intently. “What does that cause you to do? It doesn’t cause you to stack up bullion in Springer, does it?”
Mister Simmons looked surprised. “Yes, in fact it does. We’ve been shipping the bullion out of here into Springer with the anticipation of sending it on, only that hasn’t been possible. Six months ago, we started the line out of Springer with the full intention of having it completed within a month. We haven’t laid ten miles of tracks successfully.”
Longarm said softly, “Well, I’ll be damned. So you’re laying in a good bit of silver ore at the bank or your offices in Springer?”
Simmons said, “Actually, we are converting it into cash as fast as we can ship it out by wagon out to Raton.”
“But the wagon shipments are not of any huge value, I take it.”
“Quite rightly. We don’t send enough silver in one load to make it worth a bandit’s time and trouble. Silver is not gold, but we are starting to accumulate quite a bit of cash in our Springer offices.”
Longarm looked at Simmons. “Now the M-K-T goes into Raton and then on through the area that you are trying to build through. But you didn’t build the line north through Raton because of the mountains in the way, is that correct?”
“Yes, of course. From Springer on, the land is flat. A man would have to be a damn fool to build into the mountains when he could build one on flat ground.”
Longarm smiled. “That naturally caused you to build up quite a nice treasure in Springer. One quick raid and the whole pot is gone.”
Simmons looked up, puzzled. “I don’t quite understand what you are saying, Marshal.”
Longarm put on his hat. “That’s quite all right, sir, it doesn’t matter. I understand and that’s all that’s necessary. I am much obliged to you for your time and trouble, sir. We’ll be getting on the train at eight in the morning.”
They shook hands, and then Longarm left the mining office and went walking down the street toward the adobe saloon to find Fisher Lee. His mind was working at a furious pace.
Longarm found Fisher Lee sitting at a back table in the saloon, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. Longarm got a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the bar and went back and sat down at the table. His friend looked up, but made no sign other than the slight tip of his hat.
Longarm nodded toward the coffee. “Having breakfast?”
“I’ve had breakfast, thank you. Ain’t it about time for your supper?”
Longarm poured out two drinks and pushed one toward Fisher. He raised his glass, said, “Luck,” and then knocked it back as befitted the toast. Fisher sipped at his.
Longarm said, “I just heard a mighty interesting story from a mining engineer over at the Silverado Mining offices.”
“Thinking about branching out into mining, are you?”
“No, I’ve seen some of the fellows who are mining that silver and it looks a little too much like work to me. Gold, now that’s a different story. With gold being worth thirty-five times more than silver, that means thirty-five times less work, doesn’t it?”
“You always were a whiz at those mathematics.”
“Well, those mathematics, as you call it, are finally explaining some things to me.”
“What?”
“What those Gallaghers are really up to.”
“Well, are you going to keep it to yourself or are you planning on telling me?”
In a few words, Longarm sketched out for his friend what Simmons had told him. “The way I see it, the Gallaghers are deliberately tearing that track up to force the mining company to stack up a bunch of money there in Springer. They are sending the bullion up in small lots to Raton, not big enough to interest an outfit the size of Gallaghers with the raid of one wagon. They are bringing back cash because cash is easier to store than all that bullion. I doubt they make a safe big enough to store the amount of bullion that Silverado has shipped to Springer.”
Fisher’s eyes were alive. He drew nervously on his cigarette. “So you figure that they just keep tearing those tracks up, waiting for the pot to build up in Springer before they show their hand?”
“That’s correct. They’ve never showed their hand in New Mexico before to any big extent. It looks to me like they want to make one big raid that’s worth their while and get the hell back to Oklahoma.”
Fisher said slowly, “I believe that you are on to something there, amigo, but where do you figure to come into this? What’s their interest in you?”
Longarm said, “The best that I can figure is that they heard that I was in Taos. They figure maybe I am on to their operation and they don’t know that I am here on vacation, or if they heard I was here on leave, they don’t believe it. They believe it is a front that I am putting up. They believe that me arriving on the scene about the same time they are about to pull one of their biggest operations has got to be more than coincidence.”
“So they plan to get you out of the way?”
“That’s the way I see it.”
“That leaves one big question.”
“What’s that?”
