So, Longarm thought, as he assessed his predicament and the necessity of having to go after two Apache in the brush, things aren’t looking too damned good.
He checked his weapons and started to leave the cave, his mind already focused on the problems he was about to tackle. But some inner warning caused him to step sideways and that was what saved his life. One of the Apache had gotten above the mouth of the cave and had jumped at Longarm’s back with a drawn knife. But even though he had missed burying his knife in Longarm, he was agile enough to land on his feet and attack with a murderous scream.
Longarm didn’t have time to draw his pistol. In fact, it was all that he could do to raise his forearm and block the downward thrust of the Apache’s knife. He slammed the Indian in the groin with his knee and heard the man grunt with pain, then reel backward but attack again. This time Longarm had a moment and he used it to go for his six-gun. But the Indian came too fast and, before Longarm could make his cross draw, the Apache knife was slicing at his arm, opening it wide and causing the blood to flow and the gun to fall to the ground.
“All right,” Longarm said, knowing he could not regain the weapon. “Let’s finish this.”
The Apache was more than ready and began to circle, knife blade held upward, legs and back bent. Longarm was damned worried. in the first place, the Apache was smaller but probably quicker, and that was all to his advantage. In the second place, the second Apache was probably very close and about to join the fight. Longarm knew that with his gun spilled somewhere in the darkness he stood no chance whatsoever against two determined Apache.
“Come on!” he hissed, teeth drawn back and blood flowing warmly down his left arm.
His enemy lunged forward, and Longarm tried to grab his wrist but failed. Again, he felt the Apache’s blade rip across his flesh as hot and burning as a cattleman’s branding iron. Longarm reached for the derringer that he carried at the end of his watch chain. The Apache saw the movement, but he didn’t react quickly enough, so Longarm drew out the derringer and shot him dead in his tracks.
Not worrying about the Apache, Longarm jumped forward, hands sweeping blindly across the ground in search of his spilled six-gun. It seemed to take forever to locate the weapon, and when his big hand closed on its grip, the blood in his fist made holding the weapon nearly impossible. Even so, Longarm was able to thumb back the hammer and roll sideways three times before the second Apache charged out of the darkness with his gun bucking fire and lead.
Longarm shot the Indian at almost point-blank range. The Apache folded, but even as he was dying he was trying to get his gun up and shoot again.
“Sorry,” Longarm said as his boot lashed out and sent the Apache’s weapon spinning into the brush. “But this time you and your friends lose.”
The fight was over. Longarm felt weak and had one hell of a tough time getting the knife wounds to stop bleeding. Maybe, though, that was good because it would prevent any poisoning. Once the wounds were bandaged, he longed to go to sleep but knew that he dared not.
Instead, Longarm returned to the caves and filled two canteens of water. He reloaded his six-gun, picked up the Winchester, and checked to make sure that Dan was still alive.
“I’ll be back before sunrise with at least a couple of their horses,” he told the old man. “And then we’ll get you back to Wickenburg and a doctor. If you can hear me, just hang on, Preacher. No need for you to go to the Promised Land quite so soon.”
Dan’s eyelids raised and the old fella actually managed a smile. “I’m ready to die,” he said. “Dammit, Marshal, don’t keep me from the pearly gates of heaven.”
“I’ll be back soon,” Longarm said with a sigh of relief. “I don’t think your time has come yet.”
When Longarm stood up, he felt weak in the knees and somewhat dizzy. He shook himself and decided that he needed a bite to eat before setting off after those horses. He found some hard biscuits and salt pork and had himself a meal, squatting beside Dan and trying to still the buzzing in his head.
“Thanks,” the prospector said. “For saving our lives.”
“You did your part,” Longarm told the man. “You were the giant killer. I couldn’t have handled him on top of the rest.”
“I don’t believe it,” Dan said. “There were five and we’re both still alive, so that means you killed four of them all by yourself.”
“I had some luck.”
“No,” Dan whispered, “luck had nothing to do with it.”
Longarm saw no point in wasting either time or energy in discussion, so he washed his food down with water and headed off into the desert. The moon was just a thin wedge, but he figured it was bright enough to lead him to the outlaw horses that would carry them back to Wickenburg.
Chapter 14
Longarm walked all night across the desert. By daybreak, he was footsore and exhausted but determined not to give up his quest to overtake the five runaway horses. He was also pretty sure that the animals were waiting at the hidden springs where Preacher Dan had once found gold.
The sun was well up on the horizon when Longarm finally came to the place in the mountains which hid the secret desert springs. And, sure enough, there were the five outlaw horses, grazing on the lush green grass that surrounded the water hole. They were still saddled and bridled but had all broken their reins. When the animals saw Longarm, he was afraid that they might bolt and run, but they didn’t. They seemed to realize that this was the only water for miles around, so Longarm had no difficulty in catching all but the two Indian ponies which he did not want anyway.
“Glad that you are showing more sense,” Longarm said, tightening the cinch on a large sorrel gelding after he’d tied the two other captured horses to his saddle horn. ““Cause, if you’d tried to run away, I might have lost my temper and shot the three of you.”
The horses didn’t seem too concerned with Longarm’s empty threat. And so, after refilling his canteens, Longarm mounted the sorrel and led the extra pair back out into the desert. It was hot but not unbearable, and they made good time back to Preacher Dan and what he now thought of as the Spanish treasure caves.
After tying up the animals very securely, Longarm hurried up to check on Dan. He was relieved to see that the old prospector was still alive.
“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Dan whispered, his voice weak.
“We’re getting you back to Wickenburg,” Longarm promised. “Think you can make it?”
“No.”
“Dammit, you had better try,” Longarm gritted. “if you die on the way, I’ll dump your body off and the coyotes will feast on it tonight.”
It was a poor attempt at humor, but Dan managed a smile nonetheless. “I’ll make it,” he said. “What about food and water?”
“I’ll pack all that I can on the two extra horses.”
“I want you to poke around in these caves just a little more,” Dan urged.
“For what?”
“I dunno. I just have a feeling that old Jimmy Cox must have had time to bury most of his Spanish gold coins. I’ve had little else to do but think since you left yesterday, and I believe that I have things figured.”
“What things?”
“Where Jimmy would hide his gold coins.”