As they rode, Myers said only one thing and that was to ask Longarm if he had intentionally set up an ambush for him.
Longarm said, “Hell, no, Myers. I’ve been watching for you to come out of your lair for some time. It was just an accident that you came along at just the time I was hiding behind that butte. Just one of those lucky coincidences. I’m sorry about your men. Seems like several of them had horses step into gopher holes and fall over.”
The fat man turned in his saddle and glared again at Longarm. He said, “I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to fix your wagon.”
Longarm smiled. “My wagon ain’t broke, Myers. Now, get moving.”
Just before they got to Tom Hunter’s cabin, Myers said, “I don’t know what you got in mind, marshal, but I do know you can’t stay here forever, and when you leave, things’ll get straightened back out again.”
“Mr. Myers, you know that very thought occurred to me. An idea came to me in the middle of the night and I went to thinking about it and I’ve kind of got it figured out how things aren’t going to go back to where they were after I leave. I think I’ve got a way where we can get you and Mr. Barrett to be good to your neighbors. You reckon?”
Myers’s only reaction was to give Longarm another one of his glares. Longarm calculated that the man could make as ugly a face as anyone he had ever seen.
As they came riding up to the door of the cabin, Tom Hunter and the Goodmans came crowding out, their faces alight with smiles. The Goodmans practically dragged Jake Myers out of his saddle. He was their principal meat, since they were convinced that it was his men who had burned them out and stolen their cattle. Longarm dismounted, loosened the cinch on his horse’s saddle, untied the knot in the reins, and let them fall to the ground. He figured young Rufus would tend to the horses in due time after he got through helping Myers into the cabin. Tom Hunter stood silently by the door, looking pleased. As Longarm came up, he stuck out his hand and they shook.
Tom Hunter said, “Congratulations, Marshal. Was it easy?”
“About like falling off a log. That is, a log straight up and you don’t want to fall off a log straight up.”
“He have any men with him?”
“Five.”
Hunter whistled softly. He said, “And what did they have to say about the matter?”
Longarm shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “They kept falling off their horses. I don’t know what was the matter with them. I’d be damned if I’d hire men like that. Couldn’t ride for sour grapes. I think some of them hurt themselves when they fell, too.”
Tom Hunter smiled faintly. “That’s a shame.”
Longarm could see that Tom Hunter was not a cruel man, but he couldn’t blame the rancher for taking some small satisfaction in seeing a little of it coming back his way.
When Longarm got into the main room of the cabin, they had Myers sitting down at the table with his coat off and his shirt undone.
Longarm stopped and looked puzzled. “Y’all fixing to bathe him? I agree he smells a little bit, but this is going a little too far.”
Robert Goodman said grimly, “This is a tricky son of a bitch.” He held out his hand and showed Longarm a derringer. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t have another one somewhere around on his person.”
Longarm looked at Myers. He said, “Damn it, Jake. I’m surprised at you. Didn’t I tell you to get rid of any hardware or anything that might make an explosion or that might shoot somebody? Well, I’m amazed that you didn’t listen to me. I’ve got a good mind to never let you have a gun ever again. Yeah, I reckon y’all had better search him all the way. But for God’s sake, don’t take all his clothes off. I don’t think any of us could stand the sight. I wish I had cattle as fat as he is.”
Tom Hunter said, “Ain’t that the truth. Lord, a man could retire if he had a hundred head carrying that much weight.”
Longarm went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey and stood leaning against the counter, sipping it, while he lit a cigarillo. When he had that going good, he turned and asked the group if they were satisfied that Myers had no further weapons.
Goodman nodded. He gestured toward a small pile on the table. He said, “That’s all he’s got. Some coins, his wallet, a penknife, and his watch.”
Longarm said, “Well, chuck him back in that room with his old buddy. He and old Archie ought to have quite a bit to talk about.”
Tom Hunter and Robert Goodman took Jake Myers by the arms and lifted him out of the chair. He began to protest immediately, but he might as well have been talking to rocks for all the attention they paid him. They manhandled him across the space of the big middle room and then unlocked the door and shoved him through. Longarm could hear Myers yelling and shouting and then suddenly shut up. Longarm thought he’d probably seen Archie Barrett and the surprise had taken the words out of his mouth.
Hunter and Goodman came back from their chore. Hunter said, “Now what, Marshal?”
Longarm walked over to the table and sat down. He said, “Now, I’ve got to do some writing. I ain’t real good at this word stuff, though I ought to be, as many reports as I’ve had to turn into my boss, who, by the way, is about twice as mean as both of them sons of bitches put together.”
Robert Goodman said, “What are you going to write, Marshal? You haven’t really filled us in on all the details.”
Longarm yawned. He said, “I think you’ll understand it better after I get it finished.”
Tom Hunter said, “Marshal, we’re all proud of you, dragging them two big shots in here, but I still ain’t quite certain how we’re going to use it to our advantage.”
“Never you mind, Tom. I think we can use it to our advantage. It’s the only hope I can think of.”
Rufus came in from putting the horses up. He was all excited and eager. He said, “Marshal, did you know there’s some blood on the front of your horse and it ain’t from your horse? Must have shot somebody up so close, it splattered on it.”
Longarm smiled slightly. “Did you wash it off?”
“Yes, sir, I did, but I was just wondering how it come to be there.”
The young man’s father looked at him. He said, “Rufus, sometimes you talk too much. Sometimes you ask too many questions.”
Longarm said, “No, that’s all right. That’s the only way the boy’s going to learn.” He turned to Rufus, “Yeah, I had to shoot a guy at about five yards as I was closing on him at a gallop. I was firing my handgun. He was about halfway raised up. I would guess the bullet I pumped into his lungs spurted some blood out. I wish the son of a bitch hadn’t gotten his blood on my horse.”
Rufus said almost breathlessly, “How many you kill, Marshal?”
His daddy said sharply, “Rufus, I’ll have no more of that. You’re starting to sound as bloodthirsty as the men who work for those two in the back room.”
“Your daddy’s right, Rufus. This ain’t anything to be keeping count of, and I don’t take no pleasure in that part of my job. I’m a peace officer. I’m not a trouble officer. Unfortunately, sometimes keeping the peace involves having trouble.”
Tom Hunter brought Longarm several sheets of clean paper and the pen and ink. Longarm got settled down with his drink and his cigarillo and started in to write. He got so far as “We the Undersigned” and then Hawkins came blowing in through the door.
He was looking exuberant and triumphant and excited. He said, “Boys, I never knowed I had it in me! I really never knew I had it in me!” He looked at Longarm. “That’s what I call a good early afternoon piece of work.”