“How so?”
“Well, I got the feeling that, under that tough shell, he’s a very decent kid. He’s about seventeen, maybe eighteen, and I guess he was a damned bright student, from what I’ve been told by a schoolmarm who taught him to read and write up on the Comstock. I’ve been told the kid reads Shakespeare.”
“Huh,” Longarm mused. “That most certainly doesn’t fit the family mold.”
“No, and Randy has been known to be kind and generous. In fact, I’ve heard that he’s actually kept his brother from shooting some people, a couple of helpless drunks and an old Chinaman who ruined Clyde’s shirt after a washing.”
“What’s the kid doing in Helldorado?”
“What else does he know?” Bell asked, raising his hands. “Besides, you know how a kid that age would stick to his father and brother come hell or high water. I have a feeling that Randy could be saved if he was made to see the light in time. Otherwise, he’ll get caught along with the others and stretch a rope before too many more years.”
“It sounds like you know that kid.”
“I’ve met him a time or two. He’s quiet and no braggart like his father and his brother. He’s the kind of a kid that you’d want for your own.”
“Why do you suppose he has that goodness in him?”
“Randy’s father had a Mexican woman for a couple of years. She was Matthew’s mistress and everyone knew about her, but Killion pretended she didn’t even exist. From what I hear, Randy came to look upon her like the mother he never knew.”
“What happened to her?”
“I don’t know,” Bell said. “Her name was Lupe Sanchez and she was a real beauty. I guess she was about forty, but you’d never know from looking at her. She had a lot of class, and I never understood why she tolerated Killion. Anyway, she must have gotten fed up with him and his gang because she just disappeared.”
“Do you think Killion killed her out of fear she’d talk to the authorities?”
“It’s possible,” Bell admitted. “After that train robbery, there were a lot of railroad and government officials nosing around looking to pin the job on the Killion bunch. I’m sure Lupe could have turned the gang in, but she never did.”
“Maybe she was afraid he’d kill her and he did anyway.”
Bell shrugged. “There are people who are searching for Lupe, but who knows? If I were to name the one person most likely to know her whereabouts, it would be Randy.”
Longarm mused this over for a moment and said, “Any suggestions on how best I can get into Helldorado without being tagged as a lawman?”
“I don’t know,” Bell said. “Personally, I don’t think you have a prayer of pulling this off. Your boss must have marbles in his head to send you into Helldorado, especially dressed up in that suit and looking like you have money.”
This was not comforting news to Longarm. “I’m still asking for suggestions, Gus.”
“Well, if you’re bound and determined to get yourself killed in Helldorado, I’d suggest that you go in as a freighter or maybe a horse trader.”
“A horse trader?”
“Sure. Don’t you have some Paiute friends up by Pyramid Lake who you could talk into driving some mustangs into Helldorado, ostensibly to sell?”
“I sure do,” Longarm said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk their lives.”
“I doubt that Matthew Killion would be stupid enough to take on the Paiutes. No, sir, he and his boys cross their land too often to risk that kind of thing. I’d say that you’d be safe enough if you could pose as a Paiute mustanger.”
“That wouldn’t work,” Longarm snorted. “In the first place, the Paiutes are all well under six feet and I’m six-four. I’d stick out like a sore thumb.”
“All right, then be a half-breed. Or better yet, a half-breed that is on the run from the law.”
Longarm had been sitting astraddle a wooden chair with his arms draped over the back. Now, he stood up and began to pace. “Maybe it would work,” he said. “I could trade in this suit for some hard-looking clothes and boots. George Two Ponies would lend me a horse and saddle, and we’ve ridden together enough so that I know what mustanging is all about.”
“You’d need to trail at least a half-dozen trade ponies into Helldorado. Killion would laugh at ‘em, but they’d get you into his town, and then you could stay for a couple of days and try to gain some evidence.”
“By damn,” Longarm said, “I think you’ve really hit on something. I’m surprised that I didn’t think of anything this good myself.”
“Well,” Gus said modestly, “I’ve had quite a while to ponder on this and I told myself that, if I wasn’t so damned well known in these parts, it’s the disguise that I’d use. Which brings me to another point.”
“And that is?”
“Are you sure that neither Matthew Killion nor any of his gang has seen you before?”
“I’m not sure of anything,” Longarm admitted.
“Shave that mustache, get some old clothes, smear dirt on your face and look dark like a half-breed, and do a lot of praying.”
“That’s your advice?”
“It is.”
“I’ll take it, except for the mustache.”
“Then use some charcoal or smoked Indian roots to make it black rather than brown,” Bell advised. “And do the same for your hair. If you’re supposed to be half Mexican or white and half Indian, you’d need to have black hair, black brows, and a black mustache.”
“I guess that’s true,” Longarm reluctantly admitted.
“Damn right it is.”
Longarm stood up and extended his hand. “I wish that you weren’t tethered to Reno and could come with me.”
“I don’t,” Bell said with a smile. “I enjoy living too much to do that.”
“Thanks for the encouragement.”
“Is there anyone that you want me to send your pension to after they string you up by the thumbs and slowly carve you into strips and leave you to hang in the sun until you’re the color of old beef jerky?”
“No,” Longarm said, not a bit amused, “but there are a couple of ladies who just arrived in your town that I wish you’d look out after.”
“Are they young an pretty?”
“Would it matter?”
Bell shook his head. “Of course not. But it would help to make the job more pleasant.”
“One is named Irma and she’s on her way to snagging Sam Allen for a husband.”
“Then I hope she’s got a sense of humor.”
“What,” Longarm asked, “does that mean?”
“It means that Sam Allen doesn’t have any sense of humor at all. He takes himself far too seriously.”
“So I gathered,” Longarm said. “And yes, Irma has a great sense of humor.”
“Good-looking, huh?”
“Very. But she’s got a past that could haunt her, Gus. And if it does, I want you to help her out.”
“You mean …”
“I mean if you see she’s not smiling, then find out why and solve the problem.”
“I follow your drift,” Gus said. “You know I don’t hold a person’s past against them. I’ll help your lady friend. What about the other woman? I take it that she’s also got some big problem that I need to help her with?”
“Her name is Lady Caroline.”
Bell’s eyebrows raised. “‘Lady’ Caroline? You mean she’s some kind of royalty?”
“Some kind of aristocracy. She’s traveling with her aunt, who is also aristocracy but has the face of a sundried prune and the disposition of a skunk.”
“So what are they doing here?”
Longarm told the marshal about how Caroline had defied her family to come in search of adventure and how her aunt had come along as the young woman’s chaperone. He ended by saying, “Caroline thinks that she might like to work.”
“You mean like real work?”
“Not hard work,” Longarm corrected. “But she’d do well in a millinery, dress shop, or something of that nature. I expect she’s very well educated and might also be able to work in a business office.”