“No,” she said, “I’m fine. Tell your wife how much I appreciate her kindness.”
Longarm liked her voice. It was soft and controlled and sounded as if the woman had been around people of quality. He said, “Sorry to disturb you.”
She ran a cool, appraising look over him as she walked past. “Don’t concern yourself,” she said. “I was ready to get up.”
They waited until she was through the door and in the public room, and then Higgins went to the door of their private quarters and closed it. It was a good, heavy door, and Longarm felt they couldn’t be overheard. He said, “Mr. Higgins, if you’ll take your place at the key, I’ll tell you what to say.”
As if he was about to perform some sort of ceremony, Higgins went solemnly to the little table and sat down, adjusting his chair just so. Over his shoulder he said. “I got to get on line an’ give the man at the other end my signature. First thang you got to do. It’s by the book.”
“You do that.”
With a certain awkwardness Higgins tapped out a few words with the key. Longarm didn’t know what he had said because he didn’t know Morse code. He’d always been intending to learn, but had somehow never gotten around to it. Higgins sat back in his chair and waited. He explained over his shoulder to Longarm, “Now I got to wait for the other end. That’s the feller on duty in Buckeye.”
Longarm nodded. “Sounds mighty complicated to me, Herman. I’d never be able to do this without your help.”
Higgins preened. “Always happy to help the law. And especially law like you, Marshal Long. How well does a feller have to get to know you to call you Longarm?”
Longarm suppressed a smile. “Actually, I ain’t all that fond of the name. Most of my friends call me Custis. I reckon we know each other good enough for that, Herman.”
Just then the key started chattering. Higgins listened until it fell silent, then looked around at Longarm. “He be ready for us. You can let ‘er rip.”
“You don’t need me to write it down?”
“Naw. Jes’ give it to me in fits and starts. I’ll get it.”
Longarm said, “Something I forgot to mention. The man at the other end has got to be able to get to a main telegraph line. Hook into it or something. This telegram is going to the warden at Yuma prison.”
Higgins’s mouth fell open, but he recovered. “Oh, that ain’t shakes fer him to do. He’s right there on the railroad at Buckeye and he’s already hooked into that regular telegraph line, whatever you call it. The one runs alongside railroads.”
“All right. Then you need to tell him to wire the warden at Yuma and ask him what happened to the escaped prisoners from the breakout a week ago. This is official business and I need to know in a hurry. Be sure and make it clear that it is Deputy U.S. Marshal Custis Long inquiring. I need to know about all the prisoners. Make that part plain. Now, have you got that?”
“Plain as paint.” Higgins hunched over his key and slowly began tapping out his message. As he worked he said, “I reckon that ol’ boy on the other end is gettin’ the September surprised outten him that this is comin’ from a shore-‘nough federal marshal. I reckon he’ll burn that line up to Yuma.”
He tapped for a few more minutes and then stopped and sat back. “We’ll see if he got it.”
In a moment the key chattered for a few seconds and then fell silent. Higgins looked over his shoulder at Longarm. “Charley, that’s the feller at the other end, wants to know if I know a man can get fired pranking around on the company telegraph.”
Longarm stepped forward. “You tell Charley that it is a federal offense to interfere with a United States marshal in the performance of his duty and that Marshal Custis Long is not taking kindly to this delay. Understand?”
“I reckon I do.” Higgins put his finger to the key and sent the message in short, staccato bursts. When he finished he looked pleased. “I reckon that will build a fire under him,” he said.
The key chattered, but only for a second. Higgins said, “That got his attention, but he says it will be a few minutes as the main line south is tied up. I’ll need to set right here. Whyn’t you go get you a drink of whiskey.”
“I think I will,” Longarm said.
“I got to stay here close.”
“All right.” Longarm opened the door and walked out into the public room. He went over to the bar, found a likely-looking bottle, and poured himself a drink. The young woman was sitting at the bench near the front door where his saddle still lay. He said without looking at her, “Care for a drink?”
“No, thank you.”
“I’m buying.”
She hesitated. “I … No, thank you.”
But he poured her a drink anyway, crossed the common room, and put it in her hand. She took it readily enough, and he reckoned she didn’t want to be accepting favors because she was broke. It made him think of something he’d wondered many times. Why was it the man who was broke who had so much pride?
He lifted his glass and said, “Luck.”
She made a halfhearted response to the toast before she put the glass to her lips. “Yeah, luck.”
He smiled. “And all bad, huh?”
Her face went hard and she flicked a glance at him. She said, “I see my host, Mr. Higgins, has been telling you about the poor little whore who got pitched out by the other whores and ended up on his doorstep without the price of a penny candy.”
He pursed his lips and said, lying, “Well, no, he didn’t exactly say that. All he told me was you were a lady in some kind of distress—exactly what he didn’t know. Said you seemed to have had some kind of argument or falling out with some other ladies you were traveling with.”
She laughed. “Oh, bullshit. That old man didn’t know what to think of the mess that landed in his lap. Me and that drunken bum that claimed to be a medical doctor.” She laughed again and shook her head. “If it wasn’t happening to me I’d think it was funny. I thought I’d come about as low as I could when I ended up stranded in Phoenix. But hell…” She looked around. “Right now Phoenix looks like paradise to me.” She threw down the rest of her drink. “That is, if I ever get back there. I am busted. I don’t have the price of a ticket.”
Longarm cocked his head to one side and looked at her. “How come you were laying down? You sick or something? Is that why the other working girls threw you out?”
“No.” She shook her head. “They threw me out because I caused a ruckus when I found out how the split worked, what my end was going to be. Forty percent. Like hell.” She shook her head again. “No, I didn’t lay down because I’m sick. I haven’t eaten in a couple of days and I was feeling weak. The old man’s wife is a real nice lady.” She suddenly looked up at Longarm. “But don’t be telling them I’m hungry. I’m not taking any charity.”
“You’re going to accept a free ride back to Phoenix when the northbound stage gets here. What’s that?”
She eyed him steadily for a moment. “I doubt you got the brains to follow this, but try,” she said. “I had a ticket bought for me all the way to the south end of this line. I ain’t come even halfway yet. I figure they still owe me about the same amount of miles it is back to Phoenix. Now, if you can get charity out of that, you’re more than welcome.”
He nodded his head slightly. “That’s a nice bit of logic. Handy too. Especially when one has got more pride than sense.”
She bristled. “What the hell are you talking about? Don’t they owe me the miles or not?”
He smiled. “Yeah. But going south. If you want to be strict about it. You bought a southbound ticket. It entitles you to go south. Don’t say nothing about north.”
She gave him a level, fierce look. “Why don’t you go to hell, fellow, whoever you are.”
He said carelessly, “I’m the man who is going to give you a job to earn your way back to Phoenix. And maybe a few dollars more.”