“We’re not going to just ride into the middle of town, tie these horses in front of the saloon, and waltz inside telling them they are under arrest—are we?”
“Nope,” Longarm said as they entered the main street lined with weeds and collapsing rock and wood buildings. “They may be drunk, but they still outnumber us almost four to one. What we had better do is …”
Longarm’s words died on his lips as one of the outlaws and a woman emerged onto the street from between a pair of buildings. The man’s shirt was unbuttoned and so were his pants. The woman was disheveled and trying to drag the top of her dress over her enormous bare breasts. They were sharing a bottle of whiskey. Longarm saw the amber glint of liquor in moonlight as the woman flipped the bottle up and drank like a big, thirsty horse. The man buried his face between her breasts, and they tripped and fell down laughing.
“Come on, Ginny,” he bellowed, “this time I’m going to screw you right in the middle of this street.”
Ginny took another big pull on the bottle, then rolled over onto her back and hauled up her dress. The outlaw got his pants down around his knees and mounted the big woman. Longarm watched them rut like a couple of fat hogs, and then he dismounted and quietly handed his reins to Walker. Removing his gun, he circled around behind and pistol-whipped the humping outlaw across the back of his head. The man groaned and collapsed. Ginny, thinking he was finished, rolled him off and took another drink. That was when she finally noticed Walker and Longarm.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked, fat legs still spread wide.
Longarm said nothing.
“He’s finished,” she announced, “so you boys got anything for me to drink?”
“No.”
“Then it’ll cost you each a dollar to climb on,” she said, giving them a coarse, lopsided grin. “But you better hurry while it’s still hot.”
Longarm shook his head. “How many more of them, Ginny?”
“What do you mean?”
“How many more outlaws and women?”
“Who cares? I got everything you boys need!”
Longarm dragged the outlaw aside. He rolled Ginny over on her belly. She didn’t seem offended. In fact she laughed, then said, “If you boys like me better from behind, just make sure you poke the right hole!”
Longarm turned around and Walker threw him a rope. He quickly bound Ginny’s hands behind her back and then hogtied her. Ginny squirmed. “This way is going to cost you extra, big boy!”
He stuffed his bandanna into her mouth, and that was when Ginny finally got upset enough to start thrashing.
Longarm didn’t care. “Pete,” he called, “tie the horses up behind this building and come help me drag this pair inside where no one will stumble across them until we’ve taken care of the rest.”
“Sure enough,” Walker said, quickly dismounting.
Ginny must have weighed three hundred pounds, and they had a hell of a time dragging her over the front doorstep and into the ruined old building. She was fighting and cussing and squalling, but she couldn’t spit out the gag because Longarm had jammed it too far down her throat.
Longarm removed the unconscious outlaw’s coat and hat, then exchanged them for his own.
“One down and six to go,” he said as they left the pair and went back to the street.
“Looks like most of the commotion is coming from that big two-storied building,” Walker remarked.
“I expect that you’re right. Saloon downstairs, rooms upstairs.”
“That would be my guess,” Walker said. “What are we going to do now?”
“We’ll just take our time,” Longarm replied. “We’ve got all night to even the odds.”
“Damn near busted my back helping you carry that big woman.”
“Me too,” Longarm said, studying the saloon.
“What-“
“Hey, Slim! That you?”
“Uh-oh,” Walker breathed. “Here comes another loving couple.”
“Just let me handle them.”
“After what I’ve seen so far, I Wouldn’t dream of interfering, Custis.”
Longarm walked across the street with his hat pulled down low over his face. Fortunately, there was only a crescent moon and the light was poor. “Yeah,” he answered, “it’s Slim.”
“Hey,” the outlaw called, hugging his woman tight. “Lola here needs a fresh man with some fresh spending money. She’s about broke me.”
“Only cost you three dollars,” Lola said to Longarm, cocking her hips and batting her long eyelashes.
Even in the semi-darkness Longarm could see that Lola was young, slender, and seductive. He judged her to be no more than twenty-five, and she smelled like rose water.
“Sounds good to me,” Longarm said, taking three quick steps and then unleashing a wicked uppercut that originated at his boot top and ended at the point of the outlaw’s chin. The man was lifted completely off the ground and knocked out cold. Longarm bent over and removed his six-gun.
“Why did you do that to your friend?” Lola asked with surprise.
“Well, I never really considered him a friend,” Longarm answered. “Pete, why don’t you take Lola for a walk.”
“Me?”
“Why, sure!” Lola said, delighted.
“I think you can handle it,” Longarm told him.
Pete gulped. “I don’t know,” he said, “but I’d sure like to give it a helluva try!”
Lola peered closely at Walker. “It will cost you five dollars.”
“But you told my friend it’d only cost him three dollars!”
“You’re older and slower,” Lola said, taking Walker’s arm. “But I like men who take their time and have a little age on them.”
Walker grinned like a loon. He winked at Longarm and said, “What about …”
Longarm started toward the saloon. “I’m just going to have a look-see,” he called back.
He boldly walked right up to the front door of the old saloon and peeked inside. The place had once been quite a gambling hall, but all the chandeliers had long ago been shot to pieces. There were some bullet-riddled paintings on the walls, and a lot of cobwebs in the open rafters. But mostly, Longarm was assessing the outlaws and liking what he saw.
The remaining gang members were having a high old time. One of them was playing a guitar, one a fiddle, and two others were drunkenly prancing about with a pair of gals that made Lola look better than ever. A fifth outlaw sat alone at a table with a whiskey bottle.
Longarm eased back outside and sat down on the broken boardwalk. He drew a cheroot from his vest pocket, and was reminded that one of these men still had his Ingersoll watch and chain. Longarm thought he knew which one too. When he lit his cheroot, he inhaled deeply and examined the six-gun he’d taken off the last outlaw. As expected, it was loaded and in good working condition. Longarm figured that, sooner or later, at least a few of the outlaws would tromp outside for a breath of fresh air. And when they did, he’d even the odds without having to kill anyone.
Within ten minutes, one of the train robbers did sway drunkenly through the doorway. He didn’t notice Longarm until it was much too late, and by then, his eyes were rolled up in his head and his chin was resting in the dirt.
“Three down, four to go,” Longarm told himself after dragging the unconscious man out of sight and returning to the front door of the saloon to finish his smoke.
Almost half an hour passed before Pete Walker emerged from across the street.
“You sound winded to me,” Longarm said, teasing the older man, who looked pretty disheveled.
“That Lola is a tiger!”
“What did you do with her?”
“Do you have to ask a question like that?”
“No, I mean after you laid her.”
“Oh. Well, the first thing I did was to show her my badge and tell her we were both lawmen here to arrest those murdering thieves. She said the women have horses outside of town, and I gave her a chance to get away clean.”