Longarm laughed. “Aw, yeah. She said a bunch. I never knowed a girl that young could know so many words you couldn’t print in a newspaper.”
He glanced over at Davis. “I ain’t sure that Rebeccah knows you were part of this. That door might still be open.”
Davis nodded. “I had considered having a look inside. See how matters fall out. I don’t know how they are going to take it about their daddy getting killed.”
“I think they understood the risks of the business. All of them girls was older than their age. They knew what was going on. They knew all about Vince. They also knew why I locked them up. Hannah told me in no uncertain terms that it was a lowdown trick and that the only way she’d ever have me in her bed again was if I was to get back in it.”
Davis smiled. “What’s next?”
Longarm pulled a face. “I got to transport the mayor and the banker all the way to Austin and turn them over to a federal court. I expect the court will send down an examiner to have a look at Crouch’s books. Ought to be pretty surprising.”
Davis pulled several papers out of his pocket. He said, “These here are wanted circulars on Hicks and Vince Diver and Squires. I know you popped Squires off but you can’t take a reward, so I wondered if you’d just Put your John Henry on these and the date and place. There’s five hundred dollars a head on each of them.”
Longarm looked at him and then at the pencil in his hand. He said, “You just noted that I couldn’t take a reward because I was a deputy marshal. What the hell you think you are? You can put them posters and that pencil away.”
Davis blinked. He said slowly, “You are joshing me. Say you are joshing me. Don’t tell me I went through all this for three dollars a day.”
Longarm nodded. “That’s a fact. You didn’t earn it, but I figure you got five days coming. You turn in a voucher, in triplicate, to the headquarters in Colorado, and you ought to get your fifteen dollars in, oh, two or three months.”
Davis sagged back in his chair. “I don’t believe this. You’re joshing?”
Longarm gave him a blank look. “I don’t understand, Austin. Where is the carefree, lighthearted man who made fun of me for taking matters too seriously? Where is that devil-may-care lad? What happened to him?”
Austin Davis leaned his head back. “He got buried under fifteen hundred dollars he didn’t get.” Then he sat forward and laughed ruefully. “What the hell, I took the job. It ought to have dawned on me you was dying to have the last laugh. Well, have it. But let’s have another whiskey.”
“I can’t,” Longarm said. He stood up and took a stub of a pencil out of his pocket. He added, “Don’t never say I never done nothing for you.” Then, on each of the posters, he wrote his name and his commission and his federal district, and certified that each of the wanted men had been killed by Austin Davis. He put the pencil back in his pocket. “That suit you, Marshal Smith?”
Davis looked at the papers and then up at Longarm. “You didn’t have to do that. I made a deal. I’m willing to stick by it.”
Longarm laughed. “There was no deal. There ain’t no such thing as a provisional deputy marshal. I made that up. Now I got to get going. It’s a long drag to Austin.” He was turning for the door when Austin Davis stopped him. Longarm said, “What?”
“What’s it take to be a federal marshal?”
Longarm gave him a sardonic grin. “Why? You thinking of applying?”
“I might. What does it take?”
Longarm thought for a moment. He said slowly, “Well, first of all you got to get yourself in a frame of mind where you ain’t surprised by how mean and lowdown people can be, what meanness they can get up to. After that, you got to like to be hungry, thirsty, lonely, shot at, shot at and hit, and do all that for poor pay and no thanks. But the last part is the hardest. You got to make yourself believe you are actually doing some good, changing things.” He gave Davis a look. “Sometimes that is real hard to believe.”
“You think this town will change now?”
“Sure. For a little while. Until somebody else comes along with a way to make some quick money. I got to go.”
Davis got up and came around the table and put out his hand. They shook, and Davis said, “I was just kidding about you being an easy poker player. You ain’t. You are one of the toughest I ever run into.”
Longarm gave him a crooked smile. He said, “There is one other quality you got to have to be a marshal. You got to be able to tell bullshit a mile off. I’ll see you, Austin.” He walked out of the saloon, giving a little wave as he went through the batwing doors. Right then all he wanted was to go back to Colorado and a few of the comforts even a deputy marshal was allowed to have.
But as he walked toward his horse he had the strangest feeling that he’d be seeing Austin Davis waiting for him in Denver, chomping at the bit to become a federal marshal. The thought made him smile. Here you took a man for a fairly smart fellow, and he turned out to be a damned idiot after all. Longarm looked around as he got to his horse and mounted. He’d done a pretty good job and he knew it. Old Billy Vail might piss and moan about him not cleaning the streets before he left, but he was happy with himself. He began to whistle. It wasn’t very tuneful, but it was a whistle.