The nephew had been sitting behind a desk. He said, “Uncle Otis ain’t going to like that much, Marshal.”
Longarm jerked his thumb. “Get. Before I decide to turn you in with them.”
Purliss said nervously, “You ain’t serious about maybe somebody trying to break them girls out, be you?”
“You mean like Wayne Shaker?”
Purliss said uncertainly, “Well, yeah, him or they daddy.”
“You just stay awake, Purliss. Leave the thinking to me.”
The next day Longarm did not do much. He got up and ate breakfast and then went back to his room to think. He had lunch with Austin Davis. He asked Davis again if he could shoot. Davis said, “I’ll tell you again. I’m alive, ain’t I? And I ain’t a coward.”
Longarm said, “It comes down, really, to just you and me. I wouldn’t give you four bits to the dozen for the sheriff and his deputies.”
“Purliss don’t seem all that bad.”
Longarm frowned slightly. “Something about Purliss worries me. He is supposed to have worked as a lawman before, in another town. He said Denton and he named the sheriff, but it didn’t sound right. I don’t know what it is. Probably nothing.”
“Hell, you ain’t from Texas. How are you supposed to know who is who?”
Longarm shrugged. “I guess I ain’t.”
That afternoon he walked into the bank and looked around. It was about as he’d expected it to be, a line of tellers’ cages behind a marble counter. He could see offices behind the long counter, and he asked if the president was in. He was told that, yes, Mister Crouch was in but was busy. Would he like to wait? He shook his head and left.
Austin Davis said, “When you going to give the sheriff and his boys the good news about their part?”
“I was going to tell them tonight, but I’m afraid it will interfere with their sleep. The less time they have to worry about it the better. I’ll go over early in the morning and get them lined out. I reckon you better come with me. In fact I want you to go over to the courthouse with the sheriff and make sure the mayor is manacled and secured. There’s no room in the jail for him or the banker, so we are just going to have to tie them down in their offices. So you make sure about the mayor and I’ll tend to the bank president. And be sure and have plenty of ammunition.”
“I thought you told ol’ Dalton Diver wouldn’t be a shot fired.”
Longarm gave him a look. “I said we wouldn’t fire the first shot.”
“You playing poker tonight?”
Longarm shook his head. “Naw, and you ain’t either. Be just like you to get in a fight and lose, just when I need you. I’m going to rest and think and clean my guns. I recommend you do the same.”
Austin Davis whistled. He said, “For a peaceful surrender, you shore act like you’re getting ready for a war.”
Longarm said, “Being ready is the best way to avoid one.”
Chapter 11
The bank was directly across the street from the entrance to the courthouse. It was right next to a cross street. Longarm had stationed Austin Davis at its corner. He had good cover and an open firing field, and was no more than twelve paces from where the bandits should arrive.
Longarm had put Melvin Purliss, armed with a rifle, behind a big pecan tree on the grounds of the courthouse. He was some twenty-five yards from the front of the bank and had specific instructions not to fire unless fired upon.
Sheriff Bodenheimer and his other two deputies had been placed inside the bank, behind the long marble counter where the tellers otherwise would be. Longarm had made sure they were armed with double-barreled shotguns. They were not to fire unless plans went awry and the bandits forced their way into the bank. Then they were to let loose with every shell in their shotguns. In his office, the president of the bank, Ernest Crouch, was manacled to his chair and gagged. During his arrest he had threatened Longarm with every type of lawsuit in the books, and had even claimed he could and would have Longarm’s badge. He had been in an apoplectic rage until Longarm had wondered mildly what the bank examiners were going to say about one of his depositors, a Mister Vincent Diver, or as he was sometimes known, Wayne Shaker. After that Crouch had shut up and simply glowered. The rest of the bank employees had been crowded into another office and locked in.
There was a mercantile next door to the bank, and Longarm had set up shop behind some sacks of feed that were out on the boardwalk. He was armed with his two revolvers and his Winchester. Both of his revolvers were .44-caliber Colts, but one of them had a six-inch barrel and the other a nine-inch one. He expected he would be doing his work, if there was any to do, with the nine-inch model. The Winchester was a model 1873 that fired the same cartridge as the revolvers. He calculated he was about fifteen yards from the front of the bank. It was a long pistol shot, but the nine-inch revolver was very accurate up to twenty or twenty-five yards.
Austin Davis had said, “You are setting up here like you are trying to stop a bank robbery rather than an arranged surrender.”
Longarm had said dryly, “That’s right, Marshal Smith.”
“It looks a little to me like you have set this up so that you will be apprehending them in the commission of a robbery.”
“That’s right, Honest John.”
Davis had said the mayor had reacted pretty much like the banker until he had heard the magic words about Vince Diver. “After that he shut up and was as docile as a little lamb.”
Longarm had put them all in position by half past eight. They had shooed away the whittlers and spitters, and turned back people from approaching the front of the bank. Now a fair crowd was gathered on the other three sides of the square. They were, Longarm thought, damn fools. Anyone dumb enough to risk catching a bullet just to see a spectacle either led a damn boring life or had gone completely loco.
Austin Davis had offered to bet Longarm fifty dollars that the outlaws never showed up. Longarm had studied on the bet for a moment, and then declined on the grounds that it might bring bad luck. “I don’t bet on what the other fellow might do. Especially when I got a lot riding on it already.”
He looked at his watch. It was ten to nine. He noted, with satisfaction, that some of the people along the sidewalks were starting to wander off to attend to their own business. He was glad, not only for their sake, but out of fear that they might spook Vince Diver. He could only hope that Dalton Diver had done as he had been directed. If he hadn’t, Diver and his son and daughters were going to be the losers. Longarm had meant every word that he had told the man.
At nine o’clock there was still no sign of the bandits. Longarm was beginning to despair, and already thinking of the time-consuming work that would be involved in hunting down the gunmen and bringing them to death or justice. Then, just as he was thinking that, he saw a party of men suddenly appear on the north road, the road to Llano. They came on, heading straight for the center of town. As they got closer he could see that every one of them had his face covered with either a blue or red bandanna. But more importantly, the man in the lead was riding a paint horse. The hearse horse, as Diver had called it.
Longarm had his six-inch revolver in his holster. The gun with the nine-inch barrel was stuck in his waistband. He pulled it free and cocked the hammer. The feed sacks were only about three feet tall, so he was crouched down in an uncomfortable position. As the riders came on, he was able to count seven. He wondered if Vince had included any of the county boys. Dalton Diver had said they liked to give the home folks their chance so they’d feel a part of the doings. Well, if they were among the seven, they were going to get a chance to see what federal prison felt like.
The riders came on, pulling their horses down to a walk. Longarm saw them glance toward where Austin Davis was lounging around the corner. He hoped his “deputy” had the good sense to have his rifle out of sight and to look casual.