“You’re a pretty trusting fellow,” Longarm said, not sure that he approved. “What if Lola the Tiger decides to warn those boys inside?”
“She won’t,” Walker assured him. “I gave her an extra twenty dollars. I asked her to come visit me in Auburn and promised that she’d have no trouble in my town.”
Longarm tossed the butt of his cheroot into the street. “Pete, let’s march right into that saloon and end it right now.”
“All right,” Walker said, drawing his gun. “Might as well get it over with.”
Longarm had a gun in each fist when he barged inside. “Freeze!” he yelled. “You’re all under arrest!”
Two of the outlaws took a strong and fatal objection to Longarm’s order, and he gunned them both down as they drunkenly fumbled for their side arms. The other pair attempted to make a wild dash out the back door, but Pete shot one in the leg and the other tripped and fell heavily, making it easy for Longarm to pounce on his back.
“Hold still or I’ll put you to sleep permanently,” Longarm warned.
The man froze. Then Longarm saw his .44-40 Colt in the man’s holster.
“You’re the one with the fancy boots,” Longarm said, dragging the outlaw to his feet. “And you’re also the one that robbed me on the train and took my gun and pocket watch and gold chain.”
“What are you talking about!”
Longarm retrieved his weapon, then searched the man and quickly found his missing watch. “This,” he growled, spinning the fellow around and propelling him toward the marshal. “Handcuff him, Pete!”
Longarm went to see if he could save the wounded man from bleeding to death. As it turned out, the fellow had only suffered a flesh wound.
“Another two inches higher and you’d be singing like a soprano,” he told the outlaw.
“What about us!” one of the whores cried.
“You can go back to whatever cave you crawled out of,” Longarm told them. “You’re lucky that we don’t arrest YOU.”
“For what!”
“Spending stolen money,” Walker growled.
The girls tromped out knowing the party was over, but not before Walker searched and relieved them of their stolen money. A short time later, Longarm discovered three saddlebags full of money and jewelry hidden upstairs. He and Walker put it all together and the money added up to nearly twenty-five thousand dollars.
“I’ll bet some of the girls are holding out a few dollars on us,” Longarm said.
“If it’s Lola, I’ll be happy to frisk her, but if it’s Ginny, well, she can keep the money because I’m not touching her again.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Longarm agreed. “Any idea how soon these men will be in court after we haul them into Auburn?”
“They’ll be tried next week and hanged the very next day,” Walker assured him.
“Good,” Longarm said. “Justice is best when it’s swift.”
Chapter 5
Longarm twisted around in his saddle to regard his friend as they approached Auburn. “Marshal Walker?”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s trade places,” Longarm said, reining his horse aside. “This is your town so you ought to ride in front. I’ll take the rear.”
Walker smiled with gratitude. “You’re a hell of a fine fellow, know that?”
“Not really. What I do know is that you’re a credit to our profession and deserve to be reelected as Auburn’s town marshal. This won’t hurt your chances any.”
“That’s for sure,” Walker said, trotting up in front and leading their five prisoners into town.
The reaction was just about what Longarm had expected, People came POuring out of the shops and saloons, and when they saw Walker leading the badly whipped train robbers, along with two of their dead companions, folks of all ages began to applaud, then cheer. Walker blushed with pride and tipped his hat while trying to look stern and official. It tickled Longarm to see the older man get the credit. He had grown to like and respect Walker, and was pretty sure that this day would not soon be forgotten in this bustling Sierra gold rush town.
When they arrived at the marshal’s office, Walker roughly ordered his prisoners to dismount and, still making a good show of it, marched them into his jail cell at the point of his six-gun.
“Marshal Walker! This town owes you a tremendous debt,” a nattily dressed man in a gray suit loudly proclaimed.
“Well, Mayor, I appreciate that, but I have to give a lot of the credit to United States Deputy Marshal Custis Long—and to my brave posse and slain deputy. God rest Mark Quaid’s poor soul.”
“Yes,” the mayor replied, suddenly looking quite grave. “We received his poor body and that of the other dead outlaws. The undertaker hasn’t had so much business in a long, long time.”
“Let’s just hope that it’s a long time before he does again,” Walker said, locking his crestfallen prisoners in the cell and turning to regard the admiring crowd.
“Is this the same bunch that has robbed all the other trains coming over Donner Pass?” an eager reporter with a pad and pencil asked.
“There is no question about that,” Walker told the reporter. “We recovered almost all of the loot from this last holdup as well as the passengers’ jewelry. I’m sure that there is also some jewelry that we can tie to the earlier robberies. Wouldn’t you expect so, Marshal Long?”
“Definitely.”
“So how did you track them all the way to their hiding place?” the reporter asked, pencil poised over writing pad. Walker looked to Custis for the answer, but he just shrugged. “Well,” Walker began, “you see, Marshal Long had seen that two of the train robbers were riding roan horses, but the really important key was in identifying a particular horseshoe that made following their tracks fairly easy—if a man is an expert tracker, that is.”
“You’re a credit to our fine city, Marshal Walker, and you’ll certainly have my support for re-election.”
“Well thank you very much, Mayor Yarrow! Does that mean that the city council will finally approve my long-overdue twenty-five-dollar-a-month raise?”
The mayor was caught off guard. Longarm was highly amused as everyone just stood there, waiting for Mayor Yarrow’s answer. He had no choice but to agree.
“It’ll be reflected in your next paycheck, Marshal Walker. You have my word on it.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Walker said, slapping the smaller man on the back hard enough to drive him two steps forward. “But right now, Marshal Long and I need to question my surviving prisoners and find out if we can recover any more stolen cash or jewelry.”
“Why would they agree to help you do that?” the reporter asked. “Seeing as how everyone knows they’ll hang anyway.”
“We can’t say that for sure,” Walker objected. “These men deserve a fair trial. We’ll let a judge and a jury decide their fate.”
“They ought to have their balls shot off!” one of the townspeople cried loudly. As if to emphasize his point, he yanked his six-gun out of his holster and fired a bullet into the ceiling, showering everyone with plaster. “And I’m plenty ready to do it!”
Longarm jumped forward and grabbed the weapon, then wrenched it from the man’s grasp. “Get out of here!” he ordered, shoving him back out the doorway. “Are you trying to get someone else killed?”
“Just them prisoners! We don’t need a judge or jury! I say we string them up right now!”
The crowd was all for the idea, and Longarm could see that Walker needed to take control or else the townspeople really would turn into a lynch mob. To his credit, Walker drew his own gun and fired it into the ceiling causing another shower of plaster. “All right, out of my office! everyone!” he bellowed. “There’ll be no lynching in Auburn—not as long as I’m your marshal who has sworn to faithfully uphold the law!”