“I did tell you that, didn’t I? When you kind of insisted that I come t’ that conclusion. O’ course what I remembered, an’ I know you did too, is that if one bunch can take a train from Sorrel Branch to Jonesboro, so can another.
“I had my old friend Jonesboro Town Marshal Hugh Bullen watch the depot looking for three riders coming in. We didn’t know what the men would look like since they’d been wearing those flour sack hoods back in Kansas, but I guess it must not’ve occurred to them that you can’t hardly disguise a horse. I just told Hugh what horses t’ look for, and the part about the riders just kinda fell into place along with those mounts.
“Your buddies unloaded just past dawn yesterday and went into camp a little while later. Some of Hugh’s people been watching them day an’ night since. And o’ course your friends knew to place their ambush wherever I wasn’t. Because that’s where you would’ve told your gang to hit this time. I reckon if I’d stayed in town, your boys would’ve robbed the gate receipts again.”
Longarm shrugged. “You almost got away with it, Jerry. Almost.”
“You son of a bitch.”
“Now, Jerry,” Longarm admonished sadly. “You oughtn’t to talk that way in front of ladies.”
Jerry let out a sob. And lunged to grab Geraldine Flowers by the throat.
The boy pulled a tiny, nickel-plated revolver out of his pocket and shoved the muzzle into Geraldine’s ear. “Don’t make me shoot her, Longarm. I will if I have to. I swear that I will unless you back off and give me a fair start. Fair, that’s all I’m asking. Just a head start.”
Longarm sighed and shook his head. Why’d the stupid kid have to go and grab the pretty one, dammit. What a waste. This would have been easier if it was Fancy that Jerry was threatening.
“Kid, grow up, will you.”
“I’ll kill her, Longarm. I will.”
“All right, Jerry. Then what will you do?”
Jerry blinked. “Huh?”
“What is it with you amateurs that you think taking a hostage makes you all of a sudden bulletproof? It was a simple question, kid. All it needs is a simple answer. So you have Miss Flowers for a hostage. You shoot her. So then what d’you do?”
Jerry looked confused by the question, simple or not.
“Look, kid, you can’t accomplish much by shooting Miss Flowers. I mean, once you kill her you got no hostage any more, and I kill you in return. Sure she’d be dead but so would you. That’s the trouble with a threat, son. You got no place to run once your bluff is called. Think about it. You can surrender to me nice and peaceable or you can kill Miss Flowers. Which I got to tell you would piss me off pretty thoroughly. If you do that I will shoot you dead just as sure as you and me are standing here. No, what you got to do, Jerry, is give yourself up. You’ll get a fair trial and a prison term, but at least you’ll still be alive when your time is done. You can get out and go make a start toward getting rich like you said you intended t’ do.” Longarm smiled gently. “Which, by the way, I understood at the time what you really meant. You were laughing UP your sleeve at me, but I didn’t mind. I knew Hugh and me had it under control.”
“Damn you,” Jerry moaned.
“Give it up, kid. Nice and peaceable.”
“You’re a nice lady,” Jerry said to his hostage. “I’M sorry if I scared you. Longarm?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“You can’t shoot me. Your gun is back in the boardinghouse. I’ll let Miss Flowers go, but you got to let me get away. You just got to.”
“Sorry, kid. I’ve already told you you’re under arrest. That’s the way we got to play it now.”
Jerry bit at his underlip and seemed to think things over for several long seconds. Then he took his pistol away from the girl’s head and gave her a little push in the back that sent her tottering into Fancy’s arms a few paces away.
“Longarm, you got to promise me …”
“No, kid. I’m taking you in. All your chances are used up.”
“Don’t make me shoot you, Longarm. Please.”
“Lay your gun down, Jerry. I’ll see they treat you decent in jail.”
The boy looked like he was fixing to cry.
But he wouldn’t back down. He had gone too far now for that.
The muzzle of the little gun swung toward Longarm’s chest and belly.
Longarm couldn’t risk waiting any longer. The stupid kid hadn’t been listening. Or else maybe he had. Either way, Longarm had no choice.
Longarm hooked the derringer out of his waistband where he’d been carrying it along with the badge. The little .41 rimfire was small, but it packed man-sized power.
The report, exceptionally loud from such a short barrel, filled the space beneath the refreshment canopy to overflowing. And a small red indentation appeared, as if by magic, roughly in the center of young Jerry’s forehead. A pink mist filled the air behind him, and both Geraldine Flowers and Fancy screamed as the young robber gang baron collapsed in a heap like last week’s soiled laundry.
Dammit, Longarm thought. Dammit anyway.
Behind him he could hear Douglas McWhortle and the manager of the Jonesboro team arguing about whether Longarm’s homer should count since he hadn’t completed running the base path.
Longarm hoped the two of them were able to work that out between them. Personally he didn’t much give a shit.
He turned and headed down the street toward town. He needed to see how Hugh and his people made out with the robbers, then he would have to get a wire off to Billy to tell the boss he was done playing children’s games. Dammit.