we just kept shooting. It was awful, Marshal. I mean, none of us ever shot at a human person before, much less ever kilt anybody, and I guess we was scared and nervous, and we kept on shooting even when we didn?t have to anymore.?
Batson looked embarrassed. ?I know I emptied my gun at him and then kept on cocking an? pulling the trigger even after the thing was empty, until Lew took me by the shoulder and got me to realizing what I was doing. I
I?m sorry about not being able to bring our prisoner in for you, Marshal.?
?You did fine, Arnold,? Longarm said. He meant it, ?I couldn?t have done any better myself.?
?I feel awful dumb, though, trying to shoot an empty gun like that and being so scared I hardly knew what was going on or anything.?
Longarm smiled and squeezed the man?s shoulder. ?You?re probably too young to?ve been in the war, but I know a lot of soldiers then got so shook up in the fighting that they never fired at all, or if they did just shot into the air. Why, they used to go out on the battlefields when everything was over and recover all the rifles that?d been dropped. They tell that a lot of them, not just a few, but an awful lot of them, would be full to the muzzle with unfired charges. The soldiers would be so excited they?d never remember to pull their triggers. They?d load, throw the guns to their shoulders, then take them down and load again without ever shooting. Or they might shoot off the first round an? then never remember to load again during a whole battle. Yet they?d go right on fighting, and if you asked them afterward they?d honestly believe they?d been shooting the whole time. They really never knew different. Believe me, you boys did just fine.?
?You really mean that, Marshal??
?Yes, I do.?
?Thanks. I guess. But let me tell you, Marshal, this business of shooting people just ain?t for me. I
I got sick afterward. It isn?t something I?d ever want to do again. I just don?t know that I could. For sure not as a regular thing.?
?Killing is ugly, Arnold. Sometimes, though, it?s necessary. You boys did the right thing.?
Lordy, how long had it been since he got sick after having to shoot someone? Too long, that was how long it had been. In a way, that was a damned shame. He didn?t want to take human life lightly, damnit.
But the fact was that seeing men die, and taking lives, became easier with experience. In a manner of speaking, Longarm actually envied Arnold Batson his innocence and his reverence for life. When the time had come, though, Batson had done what he had to do. And perhaps that more than anything else was the measure of a good man.
Batson brightened a little. ?We brought the money back, Marshal. I think we got all of it. It counts up to near sixteen thousand.? He smiled a little. ?Even when he was trying to bribe us, the son of a bitch was holding back plenty for himself.?
Longarm laughed. Greed was something a man could count on, by damn. It was seldom possible to overestimate the power of greed in a man. Even when he was faced with the end like a rat caught in a corner and was bargaining for his life, Paul Markham stayed greedy.
On the other hand, Arnold Batson and his boys hadn?t been swayed by the offer of a bribe of $11,000, and they wouldn?t have been any more tempted by $16,000, Longarm felt sure. Some men are just plain straight and decent, and that was a good thing to remember.
Batson could have tried to pretend that Markham was empty-handed when he was caught?which Longarm would not have believed, but Batson would not have known that?or could have kept most of the money and turned in a few thousand.
Longarm had no doubt at all, though, that the men were proud to turn over every penny they recovered. What it came down to, he supposed, was that their pride and self worth were more valuable to them than $16,000. And there probably wasn?t one of them who would ever see more than $50 per month pay in their entire lives. There were some real assholes in Thunderbird Canyon. But there were also some mighty fine people here, and Longarm was facing three of them.
?We?d?ve been back sooner,? Batson was saying, ?except for having to chase down some of that currency from outa the rocks and then having so much trouble getting the litter fixed up and hauling the, uh, the body back down.?
?Nobody could?ve done any better than you did,? Longarm said. ?If you don?t mind, I?d appreciate it if you?d take Markham?s body the rest of the way down to the icehouse, and then you can meet me at the hotel. I think the government owes you the best steak in town at the least. I?d be proud to set it up for you.?
?Thanks, Marshal, but if it?s all the same t? you, sir, what I want more?n anything right now is to go home an? take a hot bath and a shave an? just
be by myself a while. We talked about that some. I think Lew and Johnny feel the same way. We don?t want nothing out o? this but to try and forget it ever happened. If you wouldn?t mind, sir.?
?Mind? No, I certainly don?t mind. You have my thanks, though, if that?s all you will accept. Maybe later we can get those steaks.?
?Yes, sir,? Batson said politely. Somehow, though, Longarm knew there would not be a later. These boys were heartsick over having killed someone, even a shit like Paul Markham who was trying to kill them, and what they genuinely wanted now was to put the experience behind them and resume lives just as dull and ordinary as possible.
The three of them picked up Markham?s body and struggled off toward the icehouse with it, and Longarm turned away. They were good men, he reflected.
And that was one problem that was off his back now. Paul Markham and Jessie were both dead now, and there would be no case to take before a federal judge on behalf of those Mexican girls waiting uncertain of their own fu tures at the whorehouse.
It occurred to him that something would have to be done with the money Batson had recovered from Markham. It belonged to no one, really. Longarm smiled and thought again about the captive, unwilling whores. He suspected he would be able to find something to do with that cash. Meanwhile, he still had to do something about the White Hoods.
