Longarm snorted. “Might be a voter, Sheriff. You’re a man ought not to kill off anybody would vote for you.” Without taking his eyes off the sheriffs face Longarm pulled his rifle out of the boot. He levered a shell into the chamber and swiveled in the saddle, putting the rifle to his shoulder as he did. He aimed at the top lip of the cave, making sure that the bullets would bury themselves into the clay roof. He cocked the hammer and fired. The rifle boomed and echoed in the canyon created by the river. Nothing happened. He levered home another cartridge and fired again. Still nothing moved. In quick succession he got off two more shots and then lowered his rifle. A half minute passed and then a sow coon, followed by four half-grown ones, came boiling out of the cave and went racing up the little ledge. They disappeared over the top. Longarm laughed. He reached into his shirt pocket, where he carried his spare ammunition, and slowly reloaded his rifle. “Well, Elton Miles was right about one thing,” he said. “There was five of them.” He gave the bunch a disgusted look. “Did You know, Sheriff, that it is a felony crime to waste the time of a federal marshal? I’ve about half a mind to jail the lot of you on that one count.”
The horsemen shifted about, looking at each other uneasily. Sheriff Bodenheimer said, “I reckon I never heered of any such law. But ain’t nobody set out to waste federal government time. I done what I figured to be right.”
“Yeah?” Longarm let his eyes rove over the men. He was conscious of Purliss letting his horse stray away from near Longarm. The marshal looked at Elton Miles.
He said, “Elton, did you really see a group of horsemen? Did you see anybody cross the river? What did you see?”
The little man opened his mouth and then shut it. He opened it again, but nothing came out. Finally he made a sound like a squeak and said, “Marshal, I’m pretty shore I seed somethin’. I ain’t together shore what it was, but the shur’ff here thought we better get on out here an’ have us a good look around. The shur’ff has ast us all to be on the lookout for any strange business round about. I done what he ast. Looked queer to me, bunch ridin’ round in here.”
Longarm stared at him. “What is today, Elton? What is today in Mason?”
The little man blinked. “Why, why it’s Satt’day. Yessir, Satt’day.”
“First Saturday of the month.”
“Yessir.”
“And what do they do on the first Saturday of the month?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He said, “It’s Trades Day, Elton. Or didn’t you notice. I’m a stranger here, but when I walked out of my hotel room I knew it was Trades Day. Square was already full of folks bringing in various items and loose livestock to trade.”
Elton Miles looked down at the ground.
“You sure you didn’t see a couple of hombres bringing in a few head of horses to swap?” Longarm asked him.
Elton Miles kept his eyes on the ground. “Marshal, I ain’t right shore. All’s I knows is the shur’ff set pretty good store by it.”
Longarm switched his eyes to Bodenheimer. “Well, Otis? What do you reckon?”
The sheriff shifted in his stirrups. “Wa’l, I done what I thought best.”
“Bullshit,” Longarm said in disgust. “You wouldn’t know best if you had it embroidered across your vest. You better get on back to town and quit wearing your horses out.”
Longarm would have liked nothing better than to have turned back around and ridden straight back to Hannah’s cabin. But she had a reputation to maintain and, even if she was in an unconsummated marriage with an outlaw, she had to keep up appearances. Longarm felt he had no choice but to ride back to town with the group that had come to flush the outlaws out of the cave. The sheriff’s “posse,” he thought with disgust. He’d interrupted what had promised to be a memorable afternoon to waste it on such a fool’s errand. His only hope was to get back to town, let himself be seen, and then slip away and head back for Hannah’s. This time, however, he wouldn’t let anyone, especially in the sheriff’s office, know where he was going.
They rode out of the woods and picked up the Brady road about a mile southwest of town. Longarm rode out ahead of the group, not caring for their company in the slightest. Looking up at the sun, he calculated it to be about four in the afternoon. He had a watch in his pants pocket, but it was easier to glance at the sky. He knew he wouldn’t be off more than a quarter of an hour.
As they rounded a bend, Longarm saw a man riding toward them on the road from town. He was galloping his horse and waving his free hand.
Longarm could see his mouth moving, but he couldn’t hear the man’s words. He pulled up his horse and stopped, content to let the man come to him. The rest of the group stopped behind Longarm. He sat his horse, resting his hands on the pommel of his saddle. When the man was about a hundred yards away Longarm could hear him yelling for the sheriff. Longarm turned in his saddle and glanced back at Bodenheimer. “He wants you, Sheriff. I’d figure that makes him a runaway madman.”
Bodenheimer didn’t respond. Longarm looked at him and shook his head. He had hoped to insult the sheriff so much he’d try to retaliate, and then Longarm would have him removed from office one way or another. But the man wouldn’t rise to the bait. He simply took Longarm’s jabs like the lump of unleavened dough he was.
Then the man on the road was pulling his horse up to a jolting, skidding stop. Longarm didn’t know the man, but he clearly understood the words the man was yelling at Bodenheimer. He said, “Sheriff, they done robbed the auction barn! Stole all the damn money!”
Longarm turned and looked at Bodenheimer. All the sheriff did was blink, but Longarm’s look was grim. If he was going to be played for a fool, he wanted it to be by someone who was at least smarter than a milk cow, which was what Bodenheimer reminded him of.
The auction barn was located seven miles on the other side of town, on the Llano road almost at the Llano County line. It had been deliberately located there so it could draw trade from as big an area as possible. It was a major cattle and horse trading market. A man might take an individual horse or cow or a few goats into the town square on market day, or Trades Day, but the auction barn dealt in volume and attracted cattlemen and horse ranchers from a considerable area. The barn usually held its bigger auctions on Trades Days so as to take advantage of the number of out-of-country people who would be coming to the area.
It took them an hour and a half to ride through the town of Mason and then cover the seven miles to the auction barn. Longarm had expected most of the traders would have gone home. The robbery, as best Longarm could figure but from the excited man who’d brought the news, had taken place some four hours previously. It was pushing six o’clock and sundown by the time Longarm rode up to the barn. He estimated there were still forty to fifty men standing around, looking agitated.
They started yelling as soon as they saw Bodenheimer. Longarm left the sheriff to deal with the crowd while he dismounted and went into the cashier’s office by the outside door. It was in that office that the robbery had taken place. The cashier was a middle-aged lady, the wife of the auction barn owner, John Ownsby. There were several other people in the office, but Longarm cleared them all out except for Ownsby and his wife. The owner was having a glass of whiskey and his wife was drinking coffee. Both, Longarm could tell, were considerably shaken by what had happened. Longarm sat down and accepted a whiskey from Ownsby.
Mrs. Ownsby was seated at her desk, while her husband leaned against the wall and nursed his drink. He said, looking worried, “Marshal, I don’t know what in hell to do.” He gestured outside the building. “I got a lot of men out there who have bought and paid for a bunch of animals, paid cash, and I can’t let them take their own property away because there ain’t no money to pay the men who owned the stock that they bought.” He ran his hand over his face. He was a man pushing fifty, and his hair was streaked with gray. He went on. “It’s one hell of a mess. And where was that damn Bodenheimer and his deputies when we got held up? Hell, clean over on the other side of the damn county. And that sonofabitch knows we deal in considerable cash here.”