It was suddenly all over. The only sound down below was a scream of wounded horses and the faint moans of a few men. Here and there, riderless horses ran backwards and forward, confused by the noise and the disturbance. It was quiet only in the sense that the earth-shattering explosions no longer sounded.
Fisher said, almost in awe, “Would you look at them holes in the ground down there, Longarm. This looks like what I would imagine war would look like.”
Longarm said, “I guess we’d better get down there. Did you see anyone get away?”
Fisher shook his head. “No, the only thing that I can think of is that somebody rode south and we wouldn’t have been able to see them through the dust and smoke that those bombs of yours was throwing up, but nobody came this way, nobody went north, and nobody went east, so it had to have been south.”
Longarm said, “Let’s go down and take a count. I sure as hell hope you were right about there being eighteen in that party. I sure as hell can’t take the chance and let one of them break away and get back to the Gallagher brothers.”
Fisher said, “How do you know that one of them ain’t a Gallagher or maybe both of the brothers? How do you know that?”
Longarm said, “I told you before. The Gallaghers don’t do their own dirty work. That’s how they have lasted as long as they have. We better get on down there.”
Fisher said, “Some of the men are wounded, but that don’t mean they can’t shoot. You don’t have to be that strong to shoot.”
“You come at them from one end and I’ll come at them from the other. We’ll stay well out of pistol range and we’ll let them know what will happen if a gun gets fired.”
“All right, Boss, then let’s go.”
“Did you just call me Boss?”
“Longarm, I’m going to call anybody Boss that can create as much destruction as you just did with that slingshot and those bottles of clear hell.”
With an effort, they scrambled their way down off the butte carrying their carbines and their freshly reloaded revolvers. Longarm led the way to the grove of trees where their horses were tied and pulled up the cinch, put the bit back into his horse’s mouth, and mounted. When Fisher was ready, they rode slowly toward the scene of carnage some quarter of a mile away.
Longarm said, “You go on to the west there and I’ll go off to the east. Stay at least one hundred yards away from the nearest man. I’m going to call out to them and see if they have any sense. If one of them fires, don’t hesitate.”
“You can make money betting that I will do that.”
As they approached the men and the horses that lay in jumbled heaps and piles, they separated, Fisher going toward the railhead end and Longarm riding off toward the direction from which the bandits had first appeared. Now and then, Longarm could see a man raise his head and watch him. Once, one of them waved a white handkerchief. He didn’t wave it long. After a moment, his arm fell limply to his side.
When he considered himself in position, Longarm called out, “I’m Deputy Marshal Custis Long of the U.S. marshals service. You men are all under arrest. Now, there is another lawman on the opposite side from me. If one of you so much as looks like you want to fire a gun, he’s going to shoot you and I’m going to do the same. There are wounded among you and we’d like to get you some help, but if you give us the least resistance, you’re going to get a bullet. Depend on it. If you have any guns near you, I’m telling you right now, sling them as far away from you as you can. All they are is a death warrant. I’m going to give you one minute by my watch to get yourself disarmed. Then we will start amongst you. I promise you that you will not gain a thing by being brave or revengeful. We are holding all the cards.”
With that, Longarm dismounted and dropped the reins of his horse. The dun would ground-rein and would stand in that position so long as his reins were touching the ground. Longarm cocked the hammer of his Winchester and started forward with the gun at the ready. Across the way, he could see Fisher doing the same. Wounded horses were still neighing and screaming.
Longarm said, “Anybody that is wounded, hold up your hand if you can. If you can’t, make a sound of some kind.”
As he watched, four hands went up and he heard a couple of whimpers. He slowly moved through the men from the eastern side, and Fisher came from the west. It was an ugly sight. Horses and mounts were ripped apart in some cases. Others were simply shot. Now and again, he saw a man with an entire limb missing. It was as gory a sight as he believed he had ever seen in his long years of law enforcement.
Longarm said, “All right, are there any among you that can walk or crawl? If so, I want you to crawl toward the west toward those tracks. I want you to do it now.”
As he watched, three men, two of them crawling and one of them limping, made their way toward Fisher. Longarm said, “When you get clear of this bunch, I want you to lay down face flat on the ground with your legs spread and your arms extended.”
Fisher said, “I’ve got to start killing these wounded horses. I can’t stand listening to them much longer.”
“All right, you do it. I’ll stand watch over the men.”
Methodically, one by one, Fisher moved among the wounded animals, shooting each one squarely in the head. Little by little, the distressing noise from the animals subsided.
Longarm was about to take a step further into the midst of the men when he saw a man who appeared dead, lying on his stomach, slowly work a revolver out from under his chest, sighting on Fisher. Without pause, Longarm flung the carbine to his shoulder, aimed at the back of the man’s head, which was only fifteen yards off, and then fired, There was a loud thunk and the man heaved up in the air and then fell flat.
Furiously, Longarm yelled at them, “That sound you just heard was the sound of a fool getting shot. Any more of you want to be heroes? I’ll drag the next one of you sonofabitches that tries that behind my horse for ten miles before I shoot him.”
Finally, all the dead were counted and all the wounded had been either helped or carried clear of the rest. There were eighteen raiders in all, five wounded and thirteen dead.
Off in the distance, Longarm could barely see the head of the engine of the train half hidden from view behind a butte. He could see puffs of smoke rising from the stack. He said to his friend, “Fish, we’ve got to get these men some help. They need to be carried into Springer where they can see a doctor. Why don’t you ride on over there and tell the engineer to bring the train up. Then get some of the workmen to load these wounded men onto those flatcars and bring them back into Springer.”
It took a long half hour for Fisher to ride to the train, for the engineer to bring his two flatbed cars up to the end of the rails, and for the workmen to get down and carry the wounded men back to the train. Longarm looked at his watch anxiously. It was after one in the afternoon, and he and Fisher were at least ten miles from the Oklahoma border where they were supposed to meet the Gallagher brothers. As far as he was concerned, the meeting was still on, and as far as he was concerned, that meeting was the cause of the slaughter that had just taken place.
When the wounded were taken aboard and the train was about ready to pull out, Longarm rode over and signaled to the engineer to come to him. He had decided on the engineer as the best man to be trusted with his suspicions. He told the engineer what he thought: that somewhere in the camp of the Silverado Mining Company was a spy for the Gallaghers who rode out and notified them whenever there was to be work done on the track. The engineer scratched his head and looked surprised.
Then the engineer said, “You know, that makes a hell of a lot of sense. Every time we’ve tried to work this last month, no matter what day we tried to work or what hour, no matter how many days we skipped, they’d always come down on us about four-five hours after we got cranked UP.”