“Yessir,” Carl said. “You can go ahead and rest easy. Ain’t no way out of here for me. Nowhere to go. Besides, these here leather knots ain’t like regular ones.”
“Good,” Longarm said. But just as a safeguard, once he was ready for bed, he tied a long thong around Carl’s hands and then tied it to his own ankle. Carl slept on the floor. Longarm took the bed, though he split the blankets equally with the little man.
As near as he could figure Longarm hadn’t slept decently in five or six nights. Maybe more. It had been the desert during the escape, then it had been Rita at the relay station. Then, the previous night, he’d slept with one eye open, afraid one of them would get loose and get away on a horse or find a weapon and ammunition. He felt certain he would sleep this night, but no such thing happened. All night long he would come awake convinced something was wrong. But each time Carl was in his place and the door was still jammed with the chair. He awoke for the last time at dawn, haggard and worn out. He sat up on the bed and looked down. There was Carl Lowe curled up in a ball, sleeping like a puppy. “Hell!” Longarm said disgustedly. He untied the thong from around his ankle and went out to the kitchen to make coffee. Rita was sleeping on top of the table, rolled up from head to foot in blankets. It appeared that everyone had slept except himself.
At around eight in the morning the southbound stage finally pulled in. Good fortune was finally smiling. The guard, who had been a stationkeeper, could work a telegraph key, although he said he was a little rusty. Longarm hustled the man into the stationkeeper’s quarters and set him in front of the key. The situation was complicated, but he reduced it to as simple a form as he could. The guard sent the message, and a few minutes later received word back. After that he kept sending and receiving until the situation was made plain. The headquarters for the stage line ordered that the southbound coach go on with the guard driving, while the driver switched to the stage carrying the gold. He was to drive it with all dispatch to company headquarters. He would be met all along the way with fresh teams. It was assumed that Marshal Long would act as guard.
Fresh teams had to be hitched to both coaches. There were no Mexicans to help, but the driver and guard were old hands and soon made short work of the job. Just before the southbound stage was to pull out, Longarm got the driver and guard to help him load the bathtub aboard. He had written a message to the Higginses thanking them for all their help and enclosing a hundred dollars of Riley Hanks’s money with the message. He had told Mrs. Higgins it was to be used to buy a new bathtub in case her old one didn’t work anymore. The guard took the message and put it in his pocket, but he was still mystified. He said, “How in hell did Mizz Higgins’ bathtub get all the way up here? Looks like it has been drug.”
Longarm shook his head wearily. “They’ll tell you all about it. I ain’t got the time or the energy.”
They got away, heading north, at a little before eleven that morning. If all went well they should reach Buckeye and the railroad line by five or six that evening.
Longarm took his seat up in the driver’s box. He would have much rather sat in the back with his prisoners under the canvas instead of under the sun. He swore to himself that if he got back to Denver alive, he was going to get a room, pull down all the shades, and stay in the dark for a week.
They arrived in the town of Buckeye at a little after five that afternoon. Longarm was forced to spend a little time with the officials of the stage line, but as soon as he could, he headed into town with his prisoners looking for the jail. He shepherded them into a small office and told the sheriff he had two prisoners he wanted put up for the night. But before the sheriff could answer, Rita rounded on him and said, “You are not going to arrest me! You gave me your word! You sonofabitch, what are you trying to pull?”
He leaned down so he was speaking directly into her face. He said, “If you’ll remember I said that I personally didn’t care what you and Anson did. And I personally don’t. But I’m a deputy U.S. marshal and they don’t make deals. You understand the difference? You see what I mean?”
She stamped her foot. “That’s not fair!”
He straightened up. He felt like slapping her violent face. He said, “Listen, woman, you have been involved in a scheme, up to your neck in it, where seven, eight, nine, maybe more men have been killed and several hundred thousand dollars worth of gold almost got stolen. You are going before a magistrate.”
He turned to the sheriff, who had been looking on with interest. “Like I say, I need to keep these two on ice for tonight. I ain’t had no sleep for a week and I got to get a hotel room and get some.”
The sheriff looked doubtful. “Wa’l, we ain’t set up fer female guests.”
“Hang some blankets. She ain’t modest.”
The sheriff scratched his jaw. “I ain’t got but the two cells and one of ‘em is occupied.”
“What for?”
“Drunk.”
Longarm reached in his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. He said, “That ought to pay his fine and their keep. I’ll give you another one in the morning.”
The sheriff became more interested. “I’m shore we can he’p you. Allus like to cooperate with the federal law. I’ll get these two tucked in and get shut of that drunk.”
When the sheriff came back, Longarm was slumped against one of the desks. The sheriff said, “All done. Ain’t no back door out of this place. Marshal, you look about done in.”
“I am. That westbound train leaves here at one o’clock tomorrow?”
“Yessir.”
Longarm straightened up. “Then I’ll be over at about nine tomorrow morning. You got a magistrate here, don’t you?”
“Yessir. Judge Cull.”
“Some officials from the stage line will come along to swear out the complaint. Then I’ll be taking the man on that train to Yuma.”
“Hotel is just across the street and down about a block. Can’t miss it.”
The next morning Longarm stood looking down at the floor in the sheriff’s office. The sheriff said, holding his arms out, “Marshal, I don’t know what happened. I come in the office a little before eight and they was gone. Cell doors was wide open. Reason I didn’t come over to the hotel and wake you up was I figured you’d come and got ‘em. Changed your mind or something.”
“No,” Longarm said, “I didn’t change my mind.”
“Somebody must have let ‘em out. Only thing I can figure.” Longarm sighed. “No, nobody let them out.”
“I didn’t tell you we didn’t have a night man, did I?”
“No, no, you didn’t.”
Longarm stared back toward the empty cells. He’d had a good supper, a good night’s sleep, a shave and a bath, and a fresh change of clothes. He’d thought he was feeling pretty good until he got to the jail. It was his own fault. He must have been out on his feet to have trusted Carl Lowe in a little jail like this one. He wondered if they had gone before he was in bed. He wouldn’t have been surprised. He just hoped that Rita didn’t get the little man killed before he could get rid of her. But he doubted it.
He said, “When is the next train that would get me up to Denver?”
“Denver?” The sheriff looked at him questioningly. “I thought you was headed west.”
“I was,” Longarm said. “I was. Now I want to go to Denver.”
The sheriff said, “Well, the train to Phoenix is due in a little over an hour. I reckon you can get a train to Denver from there. Trains run all over out of Phoenix. You figure they are heading for Denver? Your prisoners?”
Longarm turned for the door. He said, “I don’t know. But that’s where I’m going to start looking.” He started toward the hotel to collect his belongings and get down to the train depot. This was one report he’d rather tell his boss, Billy Vail, in person rather than try to write it up.