“I’m going to let the other horses loose!” she cried, ignoring his command.
Longarm bit back a curse as Julie darted away along the center aisle of the stable. Several empty stalls full of hay were blazing intensely, and flames were beginning to climb up the walls of the stable. If the fire continued to spread, not only would this building be engulfed, but the adjacent grandstands would probably go up in flames too. There was nothing he could do about that; the conflagration was already too far advanced. All he could hope for was to get himself and Julie and the old man out of there. The ropes fell away from the watchman’s wrists as Longarm finished cutting them. He tossed the knife aside and grabbed the old man’s arms, lifting him to his feet. “Move, old-timer!” Longarm shouted at him, pushing him toward the entrance.
By this time, Julie had opened a couple of the stalls that were still occupied. A glance around the stable told Longarm about half of the racehorses were gone, freed no doubt by Mercer and Janice as they started the blaze. The two horses Julie had just freed galloped wildly out of their stalls, forcing her to jump back out of their way. As the animals disappeared into the thickening smoke, Longarm hoped they wouldn’t get confused and run right back into the burning stable once they reached the outside. Horses had been known to do that very thing.
Longarm saw the watchman stumbling toward the entrance; then he turned toward the other stalls. He knew Julie wouldn’t leave until all the horses were rescued, so the quickest way for both of them to get out would be for him to help her. He flung open the gate on one of the occupied stalls, and the desperate horse inside lunged past him, heading for the entrance.
New voices made his head jerk around. He heard Janice Cassidy say, “I tell you, I think I saw Julie come running in here!”
“Damn it, Janice, come back here!” shouted Leon Mercer.
The smoke billowing through the stable parted at that instant, and by the hellish light of the flames, Longarm clearly saw Janice and Mercer near the entrance. Janice was trying to come farther into the stable, but Mercer had hold of her arm and was tugging her away. Suddenly, the terrified horse Longarm had just freed loomed up in front of them, racing away from the smoke and flames. Mercer yelped in panic, released Janice’s arm, and threw himself to the side, out of the way of the galloping beast.
Janice was not that fast—or that lucky.
Longarm winced as he saw and heard the horse run into Janice. She was knocked off her feet, and the horse’s iron-shod hooves thudded into her as he trampled her. Longarm looked away as one of the hooves struck Janice in the face, destroying forever the beauty that had been hers.
“Janice!” The horrified scream came from Julie.
The flames had reached the roof now. There was no time for anything except getting out of there. Longarm lunged toward Julie, grabbed her arm, and pulled her toward the entrance. She tried to jerk away from him as they passed Janice’s body, so he scooped her completely off the ground and tossed her over his shoulder. Lowering his throbbing head, he ran toward the open doors, following the clouds of smoke as they sought the night air. He had lost track of the watchman, and could only hope the old man had made it out safely. Mercer was gone too, having scurried away into the darkness as the horse was trampling Janice.
Behind Longarm, blazing beams began to plummet from the burning roof of the stable.
Fresh air had never tasted so good. Longarm drew great breaths of it as he stumbled to safety, carrying a coughing, struggling Julie Cassidy. He was coughing quite a bit himself. The heat and smoke had seared his nose, throat, and lungs. A pounding like the drumming of a mad Indian filled his head. But now that he and Julie were safe, one thought clamored wildly for his attention.
Leon Mercer was still out there somewhere.
Mercer had to have the printing plates. He was probably heading for the hotel, Longarm thought. He didn’t know if Mercer had seen him there in the stable or not. It was possible Mercer still thought he was tied up, perishing in the fire. In that case, Mercer would most likely return to the hotel and try to pick up the threads of his life. He had lost his partner, but he had the plates, and that was all Mercer really cared about, Longarm realized.
The man was in for one hell of a surprise.
A big, bulky shape appeared out of the darkness as Longarm set Julie on her feet again. She tried to run toward the stable, but Longarm caught her shoulders and held her back. At that moment, the roof collapsed, sending flames and sparks shooting high into the sky. Nothing in there could have survived the inferno. The grandstands were on fire now too, just as Longarm had feared.
Shouts of alarm made him look around, and he saw a large crowd running toward the fire from Carson City. Something nudged Julie, and Longarm felt it as well. Matador was there, bumping her shoulder with his nose, obviously seeking to make sure she was all right. The horse was what he had seen coming up to them out of the shadows a moment earlier, Longarm realized.
He saw one of the local lawmen, and grabbed the man’s arm. “Hang on to Miss Cassidy here!” he ordered. “Don’t let her go back in there!”
The man cast a dubious glance toward the burning stable. “Why would anybody want to?” he asked.
“Her sister’s in there,” Longarm said in a low, grim voice.
The man nodded, and he put an arm around the sobbing Julie, patting her awkwardly on the back. Longarm hoped he could trust the local badge to keep Julie out of trouble.
He had something else he had to do.
Grabbing Matador’s mane, he swung up onto the thoroughbred’s bare back. Matador danced around skittishly, unaccustomed to being ridden without a saddle, as well as to the much greater weight of Longarm, who would make two of some of the jockeys. “Come on, Matador!” Longarm called as he drove the heels of his boots into the chestnut’s flanks.
Matador lunged forward into a gallop. Longarm controlled the horse with his knees and the hold he had on Matador’s mane. The thoroughbred ran gamely through the night, pounding through the outskirts of Carson City before reaching the main street. Longarm swung Matador into the street and rode toward the hotel. The broad avenue was practically deserted at the moment, since nearly everyone in town was out at the racetrack watching the fire.
Longarm spotted one figure further along the street, however. A short, slender man who was hurrying toward the hotel as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself by actually running. At the sound of Matador’s hooves, the man looked back, and he stopped in his tracks for a second as he saw the big U.S. marshal galloping straight toward him.
Leon Mercer let out a harsh, strangled cry of surprise and fear.
Longarm swept down the street toward him like an angel on horseback, an avenging angel come to exact retribution for all the deaths Mercer had caused. Mercer jerked his gun from under his coat and brought the weapon up in a trembling hand. He began to fire, jerking off shot after shot.
Longarm heard a couple of the slugs whine past his head. Those were the only ones that came close enough for him to hear. He rode into the face of Mercer’s gunfire. The hammer of Mercer’s gun clicked on an empty chamber. With another inarticulate cry, Mercer flung the now-useless weapon to ward the onrushing Longarm and turned to run.
Veering Matador to the side, Longarm left the thoroughbred’s back in a long, flat dive that sent him smashing into Mercer, his shoulder catching the fleeing man in the small of the back. Both of them went down hard in the street, the impact jolting every bone in Longarm’s body. Momentum rolled him over a couple of times; then he came up on his hands and knees, fists clenched, ready to fight.
There was no one to trade punches with. Mercer lay flat on his back a couple of yards away, unmoving except for his mouth, which kept opening and closing although no sound came from his lips. His eyes were wide open.