“Fisher, you’re an irreverent sonofabitch, did you know that?”
They continued walking toward the shack. From what he was catching glimpses of, Longarm knew that he really didn’t want to look at the results of his work.
They rounded up most of the horses. A few they had to shoot. Longarm picked out the best of the lot to make the ride back to Springer. He chose a big bay mare that seemed mannerly enough and reined fairly well, although the horse was not trained to his standards. He insisted on getting his own shot-up saddle from his own dead horse, even though the saddle was nearly shot to pieces. He said, “Listen, I’ll carry this back to Denver with me. This saddletree was made especially for me to fit my butt. I’ll take it back to the saddle maker that’s been making saddles for me for twenty years and get some new leather put back on it. Those sonofabitches are not going to kill my horse and ruin my saddle at the same time. Do you realize they were trying to kill me, kill my horse, and ruin my saddle? Damn, that’s enough to make anybody angry.”
He found his carbine full of sand. That made him angry all over again, but in the end, looking at the whole picture, he had to admit to Fisher that he was pretty pleased with the way things had turned out.
They left the bodies and the parts of bodies just as they lay. They went through enough billfolds to discover that they had indeed killed the last two of the Gallagher brothers. Longarm took along their personal effects to prove that it was true.
He said, “I think we can ask Eugene to send a crew out to collect these remains. I think they’ll be glad to know that they can build their railroad now without getting any more men hurt, so they ought to be willing to do it. Anyway, we ain’t going to.”
They collected four loose horses and drove them ahead of them as they headed back to Springer. On the way, they stopped to take Jeremiah into custody. He was considerably shocked to learn that the Gallaghers’ plan hadn’t worked and that he was headed for a federal prison.
Fisher said, “I probably should have killed the sonofabitch. He ain’t got no idea what’s in store for him at the federal prison.”
Longarm grinned. “Are you trying to talk him into running, Fish?”
Jeremiah didn’t think that any of the talk was funny. He was riding with his hands tied to the saddlehorn, on lead, stripped of his hat, his boots, and his shirt. Fisher said, “I thought the boy might have a more difficult time traveling if he wasn’t carrying quite so many clothes.”
Longarm said, “That was damned thoughtful of you.”
It was a long ride to Springer, longer than Longarm had remembered taking when they came out, but they finally arrived around ten that night. He put Jeremiah in the jail with the local sheriff, and then sought out Eugene to get accommodations for himself and for Fisher for the night.
The young foreman was ecstatic at the news, and he couldn’t seem to do enough to make Longarm and Fisher comfortable. Even at that late hour, he rousted out a cook to make them a meal and insisted that they stay in the mining camp guest facilities rather than go to a hotel. He said, “We can beat any hotel in this town all hollow. What time will you be wanting to go back tomorrow, Marshal? Or if you’d like, I can put a special train on tonight and send you on back to Taos.”
Longarm said wearily, “No, thank you, Eugene. Tomorrow around ten o’clock will suit me fine. I’m not in a rush. To tell you the truth, I’m plain bone-tired. I’d like to have a good supper, some whiskey, and sleep. Then I’d like to have a good breakfast, get on the train, and go on back, and I believe Mister Fisher Lee here concurs with me. He, by the way, is the real hero of the moment.”
Fisher said, “Aw, you’re just saying that because it’s true, Longarm.”
Longarm looked at him and shook his head. “Lord, I wish I didn’t owe you so much. Now I’m going to have to put up with your sarcasm and your bragging and your know-it-all attitude for the rest of my life.”
Fisher said, “Which, the way you’re going, ain’t going to be very long.”
Chapter 10
After a late breakfast of steak and eggs, Longarm and Fisher left on the mountain train headed for Taos. They left with the thanks of Eugene and his crew and all the members of the Springer branch of the Silverado Mining Company. Their gratitude was almost embarrassing. Two of the crew had even contrived to install chairs in the stock car so that they could ride with their horses in some comfort. Eugene had, somewhere, discovered two quarts of brandy, which he gave Longarm as they were on the way out.
As the train chuffed its way out and started up into the mountains, Longarm said, “Wow, I’ve got to say, Fish, I’m glad that’s over. If I’ve never got to see another drop of nitroglycerin the rest of my life, I will be just as happy. You know, it’s a hell of a situation when a man is more afraid of his own weapons than he is of his enemy.”
Fisher asked, “Are you just now figuring that out?”
The train wound slowly over the mountains, laboring over the high passes, until it got up above the altitude where it could begin its descent into the valley where Taos was located. After that, it was a swift trip. As they rolled along, swaying and rocking, Longarm thought of Lily Gail and wondered where she would have fled to. He had plans for her that she didn’t know about. He imagined that she was going to be hard to find, but she would turn up sooner or later. After all, they had unfinished business. Fisher had seen to that with his untimely knock on the door.
Longarm felt stiff and sore. He didn’t know if it was the result of the riding, climbing the butte, riding the uncomfortable train, or spending about three weeks behind his dead horse with every muscle tensed while bullets sailed over his head and the nitroglycerin percolated under his chest. He figured maybe the time behind his horse when he was trying to draw himself up into as small a parcel as possible might have caused the aches and pains. He figured he was not getting any younger, and such ventures as he had gone through weren’t slowing down the aging process one bit.
They pulled into the yard at the mining company in Taos, and Longarm and Fisher got down while their horses were unloaded. He didn’t know what he was going to do with the bay mare, but he figured it was his to do with as he saw fit. He and Fisher split up at the rail yard, Fisher to go to his hotel, and Longarm to go see Simmons and give him a report and thank him for all the support that the mining company had given. He left Fisher with the understanding that he would see him sometime after lunch. Fisher said, “I want a bath, another meal, maybe some sleep, and then maybe I’ll be fit company.”
“Well, the bath and the meal will help, but I doubt if it will help enough. I feel like a bath myself, even though we had one last night at the railroad place in Springer. I could use a clean shirt and some clean jeans.”
“Well, I’ll see you later then.” With that, Fisher mounted his horse and rode off while Longarm stepped across the tracks, leading the bay mare in the direction of Simmons’s office. The distance was such that he normally would have gone on horseback, but he didn’t much feel like riding the Gallaghers’ horse, and besides, it felt good to stretch his legs after the cramped ride through the mountains. His mood should have been exalted. To have finally finished off the Gallaghers should have been perhaps as big an accomplishment as he had recorded to date. But something was lacking, and he rather suspected that something was the fact that he had caught them by a fluke, that if he had not gone on leave he would not have been where they could fall into his hands. But in poker, as in life, there was just no substitute for luck. What he supposed had made him the most tired was the pure fear of handling the liquid lightning. Now that it was over, he could look back and realize the chance that he had taken dealing with such a dangerous cargo with so little knowledge. He was frankly amazed that Simmons had allowed him to have it. In fact, he considered recommending to the mining engineer that in the future he be more careful who he allowed to lay hands on such undependable goods. It brought a shudder up his back as he recollected how he had transported such a commodity, how he had handled it, and how he had actually shot it with a slingshot. Well, he thought, this was one chapter in his life that should not be bandied about and become general gossip or part of the Longarm legend of tomfoolery. For that reason, he had great hopes that somehow the story would not get back to Billy Vail. Of course, he knew that somehow Billy would hear that he’d had a hand in the demise of the Gallagher brothers, but if it was possible, he was going to take every measure to make sure that Billy did not have new material with which to spur him about the head and shoulders.