'Christ in Heaven, Claussen, have you lost your mind?'
'Not in the least.'
Perry shook his head. 'I'm a man of science. Men cannot transform themselves into animals. It's a physical impossibility.'
'Regardless, Doctor,' Claussen maintained, 'history is full of the lore of shapeshifters. I studied the matter in some depth at the university. It forms a portion of the legendry of all cultures.'
Perry grunted. 'Of course it does. You're talking pagan religions, primitive peoples. Is it that odd that a man from a primitive society would consider himself in league with a creature he admires?'
'No, not at all. Unfortunately, we're not dealing with only backward cultures here, but advanced ones as well.'
'I can't buy any of this.' Perry just wasn't in the mood. His back was acting up and it felt like the muscles were knotted and tied. 'It's ridiculous.'
Claussen pressed his fingertips together, undaunted. 'Are you aware, dear Doctor, that our own local Blackfeet tribe has a religious order called the Skull Society?' the Reverend asked. 'This is true. An old prospector told me of this. He said that the initiates believe they can transform themselves into monsters.'
'Forget about this, Reverend,' Perry said calmly. 'There are no monsters, no werewolves. If you start spreading this crap around, you're going to stir a lot of people up. Too many people in this town are looking for scapegoats for the murders and I don't want to see a lot of harmless Indians getting killed for some damn fool reason. There's been too much of that already.'
Claussen looked insulted. 'Harmless Indians?' he said. 'Those savages? They've done their share of murdering I might remind you. They've caused dying-'
'There's been a lot of dying on both sides, Claussen,' Perry interrupted. 'Trust me, we've done more damage to the Indians than they'll ever be able to do to us. We don't need your ghost stories stirring up more trouble.'
Claussen looked as if Perry had slapped him. 'You, sir, may dwell in your ignorance. I will not. If Hell has unleashed its terrors upon the living, then let no man stand in my way.' He nodded curtly to the doctor. 'Good day, sir.'
Perry watched him leave and sighed. 'Damn fool,' he said under his breath. 'Goddamn pious fool.'
17
The sun was well up when Longtree finally woke.
Moonwind was gone and the day was bright, the world warming. He crawled out into the cold and got his fire going again. He had a quick breakfast of coffee and tinned biscuits with jam. Around him, the countryside began to wake, to shake loose the ice and snow and greet the day. He heard birds singing and animals foraging. It was a good thing to wake to, feeling fresh from a night spent outdoors. Maybe it was his mother's blood in him, but he enjoyed sleeping outside.
He wondered when Moonwind had left.
She had heard his tale and seemed to believe it. Which was good because sometimes Longtree wasn't sure if he did. He had experienced it, but still it just seemed impossible. But had Moonwind scoffed at him…it would have been hurtful. Not only because he was developing strong feelings for the woman, but because he'd never told a soul that tale.
No matter.
Wolf Creek was a distance away through the hills, but already he could hear it, smell it, feel the presence of other men. He fed and watered his mount and wondered what this day would bring. Something told him nothing remotely good.
And he believed it.
18
'I guess I never expected to see you alive again,' Deputy Bowes said when Longtree walked into the jailhouse later that morning. 'I thought I'd be forming a posse one of these nights to retrieve your body.'
'I didn't have any trouble with 'em,' Longtree admitted. 'Where's Lauters at?'
'At home, I suspect. Haven't seen him yet this morning.'
'Good.'
'Those injuns tell you what you wanted to know?'
Longtree took off his hat and set it on the desk. 'You know a fellow up there by the name of Herbert Crazytail?'
Bowes nodded. 'You could say that. His people got themselves a little worked up about a year ago after his son was lynched. Vigilantes forced themselves into the jail, overpowered the sheriff, and strung the poor bastard up.' Bowes looked as if this was something he'd rather forget about. 'Things got a little tense after that.'
'How so?'
'Crazytail's son-Red Elk-was accused of raping and killing a local white girl, name of Carpenter.' Bowes pursed his lips. 'You can imagine how folks around here felt about that. Well, Red Elk swore he was innocent. Vigilantes didn't believe him, I guess. After the hanging, trouble started.' Bowes stared into his cup of coffee. 'A few prospectors were killed out in the hills, a schoolmaster by the name of Penrose was murdered. A few other killings followed. Retribution by the Blackfeet, I suppose. A few Indians got shot. It looked like all hell was about to break loose. Goverment sent an Indian Agent down here. He smoothed things out with the tribes and business settled down. But I'll tell you something, Marshal,' Bowes said, giving Longtree a warning look, 'only a damn fool goes up into Blackfeet lands now. They never had much use for us whites and they have a lot less now after that thing with Red Elk. I think that goes both ways.'
Longtree chewed on this for a few moments. 'Were any Indians arrested for those murders?'
'No,' Bowes sighed. 'As far as the prospectors went, they're always getting themselves killed jumping each others' claims. No proof there. And that schoolmaster…again, no proof, just a lot of hearsay.'
'But you think the Blackfeet were guilty?'
'It seems mighty coincidental,' Bowes said. 'But…hell, who knows?'
Longtree poured himself a cup of coffee. 'The night the vigilantes raided the jail, Lauters was alone here?'
The deputy looked pained. 'Yeah. I was delivering a prisoner to Virginia City. I didn't get back till early the next morning.' Bowes reclined back in his seat, locking his fingers behind his head. 'What does any of this have to do with why you're here?'
'Maybe nothing, maybe everything. I have to look at this business from every side.'
'Are you thinking these murders might be some revenge by the Blackfeet?'
'It's a possibility I can't overlook.' Longtree sipped his coffee and asked the question that was really nagging him. 'Who was this prisoner you took to Virginia City?'
Bowes scratched his beard. 'Fellah by the name of Carson. He was a miner, worked at one of the silver camps. Word reached us he was also wanted for murder in Deadwood, Dakota Territory. We took him in. Marshals Office wired us, said to deliver him to Virginia City and lock him up there until one of their men came by train to take custody of him.'
'Was there any urgency in getting him to Virginia City?'
Bowes narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 'You asking why I took him that night and not another?'
'Yes.'
'Sheriff told me to. That's all. There was no hurry. Jail wasn't crowded, that marshal from Dakota Territory wasn't expected for a week or so. Sheriff just up and told me to deliver the prisoner one morning. Nothing more to it than that. Just what are you getting at?'
Longtree swallowed. 'I just want to know what was so urgent about getting that prisoner to Virginia City, is
