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Longarm said, “Is it mainly the Barretts deviling you the worst?”

Hunter nodded. “Yeah, but that’s just because of where I’m located. I’m nearer to them. They’re about four miles to the southwest of me and the Myerses are six or seven miles in the other direction. I think they kind of split it up amongst themselves. I’m sure you knew that before we came in here to settle they were doing a pretty good job of having a feud between themselves. They’ll probably go back to it, once they get us all run off. But right now, we’re the live meat.”

Longarm leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. He said, “How many good men are there in this valley? How many settlers could I count on for gunhands?”

Hunter frowned. He said, shaking his head slowly. “Not many, Marshal Long. There’s the Goodmans—a father and son—on the other side of town, about eight or nine miles west of here. He’s a tough old bird of about forty or forty-five, and his son is about twenty-five. They’re both tough. They’re holding off Myers and his crew. In fact, I’ve heard they’ve killed several of them. Then there’s a man named Swanson. He’s got a brother and a cousin with him. Most everybody has sent their women away, and those that haven’t, have made their peace and are sticking to their own ground.”

“Mainly, what do they do to you? Kill your cattle?”

Hunter made a face. “Oh, they kill them, they run them off, they steal them, or they beef one out if they feel like having a barbecue. Like I say, I’m down to ten, and I keep pretty close tabs on them. Of course, I’ve already told you that they dammed up that stream. Now, there’s plenty of water around here and if I could let my cattle roam free, they could get to water. I think there ought to be some kind of law against damming up a public stream like that.”

Longarm said, “You can’t dam a stream that crosses a county line where the stream is being used downstream. You can’t dam it up for your own purposes. That’s against the law. You can break that dam down anytime you want.”

Tom Hunter laughed without humor. “Yeah, and get shot three or four times for my troubles. They’ve got a couple of men guarding that thing. But how come you’re asking me about how many guns you can count on? You thinking about maybe deputizing some folks and taking them on?”

Longarm shook his head. He said, “No, not right yet. To tell you the truth, Mr. Hunter, I’m still seeking information. I don’t know yet how to proceed. I was told that you were a steady man with a good head on your shoulders, and I came out to get some information from you. I wish I could say that I had a plan right now that would offer you some help in a hurry, but I don’t.”

Tom Hunter said, “I appreciate your honesty, but quite frankly, if I don’t get some help right quick, I’m not going to last.”

Longarm stood up. He said, “Well, I need to be getting back to town. I’ve got business there, or rather, I’ve got business to keep out of town.” He smiled. “I don’t want the Myerses or the Barretts to be buying anything in town. I’ve made it clear that their money is no good in town.”

Tom Hunter cocked his head. “You’re kidding.”

Longarm said, “No, I’m not, and they’ve already found that out. I need to get back there and see if I’ve stirred any thing up.”

Hunter walked outside with him and shook Longarm’s hand. He said, “I appreciate you coming out, Marshal. I’d appreciate hearing about anything that’s coming up. If I can be of any help, I’d sure be more than willing.”

Longarm nodded and mounted. As he wheeled his horse, he said, “You’ll be hearing from me. Keep your rifle loaded, Mr. Hunter, and sleep light.” He put his spurs to the horse and loped away from the lonely cabin out onto the rolling prairie.

Chapter 6

Longarm was waiting in the parlor of Mrs. Thompson’s boardinghouse when Mr. Hawkins finally came in. It was late in the afternoon, almost half past four. He had been sitting in a big easy chair with a glass and a bottle of his good Maryland whiskey, sipping slowly and smoking cigarillos and thinking. He had a kind of hazy plan. It wasn’t very good, and he didn’t know if it would work or if he could get anybody to help him, but it was the only plan he had. He thought he might as well give it a try.

He heard Hawkins come in the front door and hollered at him to step into the parlor. The tall, gaunt man came in through the double doors and stopped. He said, “Well, Marshal, you seem to be taking your ease. You have a good talk with Tom Hunter?”

“Yeah, I just got through talking to a man who needs help from the law, and I’m not sure the law has any way to help him. It’s a damned frustrating feeling, Mr. Hawkins. By the way, you never have told me what your first name is. Mine’s Custis.”

Hawkins took off his hat and laid it on the table and sat down in a straight-backed chair. “Well, I’m not too prompt about flinging my first name around, but if it’s got to be told, it’s George. The second one’s worse, so I don’t use that one at all. Generally, I just go by G. W. Hawkins.”

Longarm smiled. “So, it’s George Washington Hawkins, is it? I take it that either your daddy or your mother was a historian or a patriot?”

Hawkins blushed slightly beneath his weathered skin. He said, “Hell, Marshal, you weren’t supposed to figure that one out.”

Longarm said, “Well, I’d offer you a drink, but you don’t drink.”

Hawkins said, “Oh, I still drink. I just don’t ever do it right now.”

“I take it by that you mean any right now.”

Hawkins smiled. He said, “That’s about the size of it, sir.”

Longarm was silent for a moment, sipping at his drink and staring at the man. He liked him, liked his sense of humor, and liked his straightforwardness. He hated to play the trick on the man that he was going to play, but he didn’t see any way around it. He said, “Tell me, Mr. Hawkins, who are you the closest to—the head of the Barrett family or the head of the Myers?”

Hawkins pulled a face. He said, “I don’t reckon you’d say that I was invited to Christmas dinner at either place, but I reckon if it came down to that or drowning, I reckon I’d say I know Archie Barrett better. We’re more the same age. Hell, Jake Myers is upwards of sixty and mean as a rattlesnake with a sore on his tail. Barrett is not the best company in the world, but I’ve been doing business with his outfit for ten, twelve years. I guess I could say that I know him better.”

“Well, tell me this. Would he accompany you somewhere?”

Hawkins gave Longarm a puzzled look. “Accompany me somewhere? Why would he want to accompany me anywhere?”

Longarm said, “Well, let’s just say that you had a particular piece of goods that you wanted him to see, but you couldn’t bring it to him. Would he come with you to look at it?”