Longarm said, “Yeah, you might have remembered most of the stuff, but you didn’t come back with nothing but a bucket of water for Pedro.”
Longarm could hear the muffled sound of cursing. He laughed softly to himself.
The morning dragged on. They had very carefully added ice to the nitro, or rather, Longarm had added the ice. After one look, Fisher had retreated around to the other side of the butte, vowing that he didn’t see any point in getting himself blown to pieces by a damn fool fooling around with something that he didn’t know nothing about.
After that, they’d had a breakfast of cheese and saltines and canned peaches. It wasn’t much, but as Fish had said, it was filling, especially the sardines.
They kept their eyes to the east. It got to be ten o’clock and then eleven. By then, the road crew had laid down fifty feet of cross-ties and were starting to bring up the rails. It was interesting to watch them. Four men with a kind of a long instrument would each get ahold of a rail, lift it off the flatcar, pick it up again, and walk it up to its place atop the cross-ties. After that, two men, working in unison, would drive home the spikes that held it in place. The sledgehammer blows filled the valley with the constant sound of steel on steel.
Longarm said, “If they can’t hear that, even in Quitman, then they’re deaf. I have an idea that they keep a very close eye on this particular section of track.”
Fisher said, “What about us? Maybe they’ve seen us and been spooked.”
“We haven’t showed ourselves since about eight o’clock, and they wouldn’t be looking for us anyhow. They think they’re the cock of the walk around here. They’ll come unless they plan to let Mister Simmons get his railroad built, which I seriously doubt since they don’t quite have as much money in their headquarters in Springer as they would like.”
Fisher said testily, “Well, dammit, I wish they would come. I’m getting tired of this.”
Longarm said, “Get out the cards. You still have about fifty dollars of my money.”
Fisher reached in his pocket. “Get over here close. We’ll play under the lee of these rocks where there is at least a little shade. I can tell you this one thing. Once I win all your money, I ain’t loaning you no more, not even on that damn plug horse of yours.”
It was just after noon when Fisher raised his head. He said, “I think I hear something.”
Longarm said, “Probably pounding in your ears because you are getting your ass whipped here.” Longarm had won all of his money back and about fifty dollars of Fisher’s.
Fisher said, “No, be quiet. I’m serious. I have real sensitive hearing and I think I can hear something.”
Longarm sat still, his ear cocked. Before long he too could hear the distant sound of hoofbeats. In the desert, sound carried a long way. He said to Fisher, “Take your hat off and peek over that rock and see if you see any dust.”
Very cautiously, Fisher raised up until his eyes were just above the level of the boulders. He said, “I can kind of see a faint haze, but I ain’t real sure. Let’s give it a few minutes more.”
Longarm said, “If it’s them, I think you better understand the situation. What do you think it is down there to the valley? About two hundred yards?”
“Two fifty, three hundred yards. It’s a pretty good rifle shot, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“If plans go the way I want them to, you’ll be doing most of the shooting. Use my rifle and yours. If I can, I’ll try to reload for you. But the idea is to stop them. If you can’t hit men, shoot horses. We’ll deal with them on foot later on. I don’t want theni getting any closer to that train crew than five or six hundred yards.”
Fisher smiled. “As skittish as that train crew is, I think they’ll be gone long before we fire the first shots. At the first sign of the bandits, they’re going to have that engine backing up at thirty miles an hour.”
Five minutes passed. Fisher said, “Yeah, I see dust. It’s a pretty good cloud, too, Longarm. Must be at least a dozen horses, maybe more. Of course, all I can see right now is dust.”
They waited. Cautiously, Longarm turned to his left and crawled to the end of the last boulder that they were using for protection. He took off his hat and peered around the corner. Just as his eyes focused off in the distance, he could see between two big buttes, one mounded and one jagged, a little rise. As he watched, he could see the dust cloud top the rise and come into view. The riders were perhaps two miles off.
As they neared, individual figures of men and horses began to appear. Longarm said, “A dozen, hell. Looks closer to two dozen to me.”
Chapter 7
When the riders were about a little over a mile away, Fisher said, “I make it an even eighteen.”
Longarm said, “Oh, hell, Fish. You can’t see that good so that you can count that many men in a bunch.”
Fisher said evenly, “If I couldn’t see that good, Longarm, I wouldn’t still be alive.”
Longarm stared at the approaching gang of bandits. “Well, you got me beat. I can see them pretty clearly, but I can’t pick them out. What color is the hat of the man in front?”
Fisher said, “It’s a light tan, a little dusty around the hat band.”
Longarm looked to his right. He could hear the engine begin to chug and could see the crew scrambling back toward it. “Looks like our crew from the railroad ain’t going to stand around and watch the fun.” He paused thoughtfully for a second. “I wonder who it is from the Silverado outfit in Springer that gets word to the Gallaghers in Quitman when the train crew is going out?”
Fisher’s head swiveled around and he looked at Longarm. He asked, “You reckon that’s how they know?”
I’ll be dogged. I do
“Can you think of any other way?”
Fisher shook his head. “Well, I believe that you’re right. That’s the only way. How do you reckon your Mister Simmons is going to figure out who the traitor is?”
Longarm said with a thin smile on his face, “If things go the way I hope they do, he won’t have to. Now, I reckon we’d better get back to work.” He got up and went over to the canvas sacks, carefully lifted up one flap, and with equal care carefully brushed the ice away from two of the oilskin envelopes that contained two of the nitroglycerin vials each. As gently as he could, he lifted them out of their nests and started back toward his place behind the rock. As he neared, he could see that Fisher was staring at him in horror.
He asked, “What’s the matter with you, Fisher? Ain’t you ever seen a man carrying nitroglycerin before?”
Fisher’s voice trembled. “My, God. What are you going to do with that stuff? I can’t believe that you’re going to bring it right over next to us.”
Longarm knelt down, carefully setting the oilskin packets on the ground in the shade of the rocks. With careful fingers, he lifted the flap of one of the packets, exposing the two glass vials still nestled in the remaining bed of ice.
Fisher had taken an involuntary step or two backwards. He said, “Sonofabitch! You got that stuff right here! What are you going to do?”
Longarm glanced up, easing his face around the rock until he could see the horsemen. “I make them to be about three quarters of a mile off. What do you reckon? And by the way, it looks like eighteen to me also.”
Fisher said, “Yeah, I guess so, but right now I am considerably more concerned with what you’re doing with that dynamite juice. Longarm, do you have any ida how dangerous that stuff is? What are you going to do with it?”
For answer, Longarm reached into his saddlebags and pulled out the slingshot he’d had made. He held it by the wooden handle and put his finger in the leather pouch and tested the rubber cords, stretching it out to see how springy it was. To his right, Fisher gasped.
Fisher said, “I hope you’re not fixing to do what I think you’re fixing to do.”