“Nope,” Longarm said, “apparently not.”
“He’s worthless,” Oakley snorted. “Just a cull.”
“I’m afraid so,” Longarm agreed.
“My men will probably put the fool out of his misery when they ride through here to kill you.”
Longarm didn’t say anything. He just waited until Bert shuffled back with a pencil and paper and then he scribbled a quick note:
To be on the safe side, leave at once for the next few weeks. Bert, you have found REAL gold! Good luck!
“Here,” Longarm said, “stuff this in your pocket and pack up everything you’ve got and then git!”
Bert nodded and, still in shock, wandered back into his cabin.
Longarm didn’t know how long it might be before the sad young homesteader happened to read his note. When Bert did read it, Longarm suspected the man might whoop and holler for joy. It would be safer for him if there was nobody about when that happened. What Bert did then was his own business. Longarm just hoped that the kid found a partner or someone he could really trust and that he’d not be cheated out of his good fortune.
But judging from what he’d seen of poor Bert, the odds were that he’d be skinned out of everything.
Chapter 13
Sophie and Molly caused quite a stir when they galloped into Lone Pine and began to search for the medicine wagon. And although the town was small and they looked everywhere, the distinctive wagon was nowhere to be found.
“Well,” Sophie said with mounting exasperation. “What do we do now?”
“There’s no law in this awful place,” Molly said, aware that dozens of hard-rock miners were ogling them with lust in their bloodshot eyes. “If we find the wagon, we find Marshal Long and that murdering Ford Oakley, so I say we had better start by finding out just where that wagon went.”
“Any suggestions how?”
Molly pointed to a young man in bib overalls who was gawking at them. “We might as well start by asking him.”
She rode over to the man, who pulled off his hat and then looked over both shoulders, certain that Molly was talking to someone behind him when she said, “Hi there, handsome!”
“Uh, who me?”
“That’s right. We’ve just arrived from Gold Mountain. We’re in town looking for a man that drove a medicine wagon in yesterday. Do you have any idea-“
“That’d be Marshal Long,” the man said, stepping eagerly forward. “Sure, I saw him! The whole town did. There was a big shootout and everything. Never saw so much blood and excitement.”
“Blood?” Sophie whispered.
“That’s right! The marshal was ambushed right about here on the street. A young deputy that was with him got plugged.”
“Oh, my gosh!” Sophie said. “Did Marshal Long’s prisoner escape?”
“You mean Ford Oakley?”
“Yes,” Molly said.
“He did for a fact!”
Sophie and Molly were desolate. “What,” Molly was finally able to say, “happened to the big federal marshal?”
“He got wounded, but not too bad. Nelly fixed him up and then he just disappeared.”
Sophie’s eyebrows raised. “Disappeared?”
“I think he got scared that Oakley’s friends were going to finish him off so he ran away.”
“In the medicine wagon?”
The young man shrugged his shoulders. “I guess. I dunno. Never thought much about it, to be honest.”
Molly took a deep breath. “If the marshal didn’t take the wagon, who did? We’ve searched everywhere in this town and haven’t found it yet.”
The young man grinned hopefully. “Well, if I had to guess,” he said, “I expect that Pete sold it.”
“Who,” Sophie asked, “is Pete?”
“He’s the town blacksmith, but he also owns the livery. You could ask him.” The kid turned and pointed down the street. “See that big barn?”
“Sure.”
“That’s his livery and blacksmith shop. Pete is almost always hangin’ around there someplace.”
“thanks,” Sophie said. “Thank you very much.”
The kid grinned. “I could walk down and introduce you to old Pete. He can be a crabby sonofabitch if you catch him in a bad mood.”
“We’ll be fine,” Molly said. “Thanks anyway.”
The kid nodded. “You staying long in Lone Pine?”
“Not one minute longer than necessary,” Sophie told him as she twisted around in her saddle and saw that no less than fifty miners were leering at her and Molly.
They rode quickly to the blacksmith’s shop, and found Pete hard at work shaping a mule’s shoe at his anvil. He didn’t even look up until both women had dismounted and moved close, but when he saw them, he dropped his hammer and the shoe and grinned like crazy.
“Are you Pete?” Molly asked, batting her eyelids.
“Yes, ma’am!” Pete wiped sweat from his face with the back of his arm, leaving a muddy smear across his forehead, and then he honored them with a slight bow. “How can I service you … ladies?”
Sophie had to laugh. This liveryman was dirty and sweaty, but at least he knew how to address the ladies. “We are looking for a friend,” she began.
Pete’s smile slipped a little. “A friend?”
“That’s right,” Molly said. “His name is Marshal Custis Long and he is driving a medicine wagon.”
Pete slammed the hammer down hard on the mule shoe. “Medicine wagon?”
Sophie’s opinion of the man was also slipping. “Are you a parrot?”
“Oh, no, ma’am!” Pete exclaimed, hammering a little more. “It’s just that I never heard of a marshal driving a medicine wagon. I mean, they usually-“
“Cut the bullshit!” Sophie snapped. “This whole damn town saw the big shootout yesterday. We know that Custis was wounded and that his prisoner, Ford Oakley, escaped. All we want to know now is … where did Marshal Custis Long go!”
Pete stepped away from his anvil and mopped his forehead again. “Why are you asking me?”
“Because,” Molly said, “you had the medicine wagon but now it’s gone.”
“Maybe I sold it to someone and they drove it away.”
“And maybe you’re lying,” Molly snapped. “The question is, why?”
Pete untied his leather apron and ran his fingers through his thin gray hair. He looked both women up and down and then he smiled. “Privileged information, ladies.”
“Privileged my ass!” Sophie hissed.
“That’s what it’s going to cost you both,” Pete said with a wink.
“No,” Sophie said, stomping her foot down hard. “Mister, you just name a price-“
“I just did,” Pete said, reaching into his pockets to get the makings for a cigarette.
“Ten dollars,” Molly offered.
Pete rolled his cigarette with a grin forming on his lips. When he had it lit, he shook his head. “Nope.”
“Twenty!” Sophie said between clenched teeth.
“How old are you two pretty ladies?” Pete asked, puffing with contentment.
“Old enough,” Molly said.
“That’s what I think too,” Pete said. “I got a fresh stack of straw delivered inside my barn yesterday. Nice clean straw. I’ll close up the place and then why don’t we all go mess it up for a while?”
“You awful old billy goat!” Sophie swore.
“Ain’t 1, though,” Pete said, grinning even wider.
“Shit,” Molly said, leading her horse into the barn.
“You’re going to do it?” Sophie asked with surprise.
“Can’t quit now, can we?” Molly called back, already beginning to unbutton her dress as she walked.
Sophie cussed a blue streak but went on inside.
An hour later, the two women rode out the back of the barn and headed into the mountains. As soon as they were gone, Red Kane, Deke, Gus, and Willard tied their horses behind the livery and out of sight. They entered the barn to find Pete buttoning up his trousers and whistling a happy tune.
“Howdy!” Kane called, waiting until Gus had closed the back door of the livery barn.