LONGARM AND THE BOARDINGHOUSE WIDOW [066-066-5.0]

By: Tabor Evans

Synopsis:

What would you expect in a town called Grit? Two cattle barons want all the land to themselves—no matter who’s holding the deed. They dam streams. They rustle beef. And when their men aren’t killing each other, they’re killing innocent locals. That just ain’t nice. It’s up to Longarm to take the dirt out of Grit. He’s got a pocket full of pistol and a rifle full of reason. The one person who’s happy to see him is the widow Thompson. She’s had enough of Grit and its dog-like denizens. The turf war got her husband killed, and she wants justice done. Who’s Longarm to disappoint a grieving widow? 218th novel in the “Longarm” series,

1997.

Jove Books New York Copyright (C) 1997 by Jove Publications, Inc. All rights reserved.

This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission. For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group, 200 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016.

ISBN: 0-515-12016-2

Jove Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, 200 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016.

The Putnam Berkley World Wide Web site address is HTTP://WWW.BERKLEY.COM/BERKLEY

JOVE and the “J” design are trademarks belonging to Jove Publications, Inc.

A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author

Printing history Jove edition / February 1997

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

DON’T MISS THESE ALL-ACTION WESTERN SERIES FROM THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

THE GUNSMITH by J. R. Roberts Clint Adams was a legend among lawmen, outlaws, and ladies. They called him … the Gunsmith.

LONGARM by Tabor Evans The popular long-running series about U.S. Deputy Marshal Long—his life, his loves, his fight for justice.

SLOCUM by Jake Logan Today’s longest-running action Western. John Slocum rides a deadly trail of hot blood and cold steel.

Chapter 1

United States Chief Marshal Billy Vail said off-handedly, “Custis, have you ever been to one of them circuses? You know, the kind that travels around with wild animal acts and all such as that?”

United States Deputy Marshal Custis Long gave his boss a wary look. A man needed to be careful before he up and answered one of Billy Vail’s seemingly innocent questions. All too often, they led to long, hard assignments. It was very seldom that the chief marshal told a story for a story’s sake or an anecdote to entertain one of his deputies.

Longarm said, “Well, I don’t know, Billy. Yeah, I reckon I’ve seen a circus now and again when it was handy in what little time I have off from work.”

Billy Vail said, “You ever seen that lion tamer? You know, that guy that gets into that cage with them lions and tigers all in a ball, carrying on, fussing and fighting among themselves. He just gets in there with a whip and a chair and separates them. You ever seen that?”

Longarm was still cautious. He said carefully, “Well, I might have seen something like that, Billy. Why? You got something special in mind?”

They were sitting in the chief marshal’s office on the second floor of the federal building in Denver, Colorado. Billy got up from his creaky old swivel chair, walked over to the window behind him, and looked out at the weather. It was coming a good spring after a hard winter and Longarm had reflected, as he had walked over to the office from his boardinghouse, what a pleasure it was to wear an open-necked shirt and feel the pleasant breeze blowing past his skin. He had finished, not much long before, a hard trip through the mountains, through snow and ice, and through some awfully hot lead. He was looking forward to a rest in the comfort of the big city of Denver and the equally attractive charms of several lady friends of his about the town.

Billy Vail said, “You know, that’s a mighty brave fellow who walks in there and separates them lions and tigers like that.” He turned around to look at Longarm. “Ain’t that a fact?”

Longarm had been resting his boots on an incidental chair. He took them down and set them on the floor with a clump. He leaned forward. He said, “Billy, I’d like to remind you, I just came off a tough assignment, I damned near got frostbite, snakebite, and bullet bite, and I ain’t looking to get lion or tiger bite or bit or however you want to say it. I don’t know what you got in mind, but if there’s some circus that needs cleaning up, then there’s some deputies a hell of a lot more junior than me who can go and tend to it.”

Billy Vail shook his head slowly. He said, “Don’t you know that there is certain jobs that only a man named Longarm can do? You know, you didn’t get that name on account of the way you parted your hair.”

Longarm snorted. The nickname was both a trial and a tribute to him as far as he was concerned. He supposed it came about because his last name was Long and it was known that he was the long arm of the law. No matter where You Went or where you hid, eventually Custis Long was going to show up and say it was time to go to jail. Either that or boot hill.

Longarm said, “Now, don’t come with any of that foolishness on me, Billy Vail. I’ve been to two county fairs and a grass fire and I’m not a bit impressed with this kind of talk.”

Billy Vail said, looking sorrowful, “Custis, I hate to ask this of you, I really do.”

Longarm snorted again. “Why, you lying old fraud. You don’t care what you ask of me. I’m surprised you let me have time to change horses before you send me out on some other damn-fool errand.”

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