Pulling his Stetson low on his forehead, Longarm ducked back under the window, crossed the front porch, and edged along the house until he came to a back door, which he was able to open without a hitch. He drew his gun and stepped into the kitchen, then tiptoed forward until he stopped less than ten feet from Ned Rowe and his card-playing friends.
"And I'll raise you twenty dollars," Ned challenged.
"Then I'll call you!"
Ned won with three jacks, but Longarm hardly paid the game a moment's thought. What was most interesting was that the three men were betting with a stack of what appeared to be railroad stock certificates. The type that had been stolen during the train wreck.
"Hands up!" Longarm called, stepping into the room with his gun in his fist. "You're all under arrest!"
Ned Rowe's jaw dropped, and he jumped to his feet throwing his hands overhead. But the other pair, not knowing Longarm was a federal marshal and a dead shot, made the mistake of going for their guns.
Longarm's Colt bucked solidly in his fist, and an outlaw crashed over backward with a bullet through his heart. The second man was very fast, and actually cleared leather before Longarm's slug ripped into his shoulder and spun him completely around. The man cried out and his Colt skidded from his grasp.
"Ned," Longarm said, "you want to reach across with your left hand and yank your gun from its holster, then drop it to the floor."
"Jeezus!" Ned choked, trying to smile. "It's you! Deputy, I'm sure glad that you came in when you did. I was just about to..."
He started to lower his hands, but Longarm yelled, "Keep your mouth shut and your hands high, Ned!"
"What the hell is the matter with you?" Ned cried. "We was just playing cards. And you spooked Fergus and Johnny! You didn't need to shoot them!"
Longarm removed Ned's gun. "Keep your hands over your head and turn around."
"I don't know why you're doing this!" Ned said angrily. "I've tried to help you every bit I can since you came to Laramie. I even figured to get some leads for you out here."
"I'll bet," Longarm said drily.
"Well, I was! These boys are outlaws! I figured that they'd know who was responsible for that train wreck."
"So you just happened to start playing poker using stolen railroad stock certificates as money. Is that it?"
"That's what we were using?" Ned managed a grin. "Hell, Deputy, I didn't know what they was! I swear that I never learned to read."
Longarm didn't believe a word of that. He went over to examine the wounded man, who was writhing around on the floor clasping his riddled shoulder.
"Settle down," Longarm said, mustering up all the sympathy he felt was warranted for a man who'd tried to shoot him.
"Jeezus but you're a cold-blooded bastard!" Ned exclaimed, staring at the dead man. "You killed Johnny!"
"Better him than me."
Longarm turned his attention back to Fergus. "Here, he said, pulling out a handkerchief and punching it against the wound hard enough to make the outlaw bellow with pain. "Plug it up and hope the bleeding quits before you do."
Fergus accepted the handkerchief. His hand was trembling and his face was white with fear. "Am I lung shot?"
"No."
"Am I going to die?"
"Depends," Longarm said.
Fergus stared up at him, waiting. Finally, he blurted out, "Depends on what?"
"Depends on if I'm willing to take you to the nearest town and hunt up a doctor."
Fergus pulled the handkerchief away from his wound, and his eyes widened with panic because the handkerchief was already soaked with blood. "I'm bleeding real bad!"
"I want to know who is wrecking and robbing trains," Longarm said, glancing over at Ned. "I want names."
"I don't got any names!" Fergus shouted. "I'm a damned horse thief, Marshal! I never robbed a train before!"
"Yeah?" Longarm pulled a cheroot out of his coat pocket and took his time lighting it. He blew smoke in the wounded man's face. "You can say that, but I got a feeling that you're a liar. Who derailed the train at Laramie Summit?"
"I don't know!"
Longarm grabbed Fergus by the shirtfront. "You were playing with stocks taken from that train's safe! Now don't tell me you know nothing! Not if you want help!"
But Fergus stubbornly shook his head back and forth.
"I don't think he knows anything," Ned Rowe said quietly.
Longarm took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. He focused his attention on the Laramie blacksmith. "All right," he said easily. "Let's assume he doesn't know anything. So what do you know?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. The game is over, Ned. I want to know the truth. Who's behind the train robberies?"
"I've been helping you!"
Longarm went over to the man. He pressed the barrel of his Colt to Ned's crotch.
"Mister," Longarm said, "I'm cold, hungry, and tired. Furthermore, counting the dead man on the floor, I've killed three men that have crossed me in less than two days. Killing you and letting this self-admitted horse thief bleed to death just doesn't bother me a whole hell of a lot. Give me names!"
"I don't know anything!" Ned pleaded, sweat starting to bead across his forehead.
"You're a liar, soon to be a eunuch."
"What the hell is that?"
"You know what a gelding is?"
"Sure, but..."
Longarm cocked back the hammer of his six-gun. "Figure it out for yourself, Ned."
The man's eyes bugged with terror. "Oh, please!"
"Names, dammit! I need names."
"I didn't do it! I wasn't there and neither was Fergus!"
"Maybe not," Longarm gritted. "But you were helping them somehow. You were in on the train wreck."
Ned licked his lips. "All I did was to shoe some of their horses and... and sell 'em some fresh mounts. I didn't know that they were going to send the damn train rolling down a mountainside!"
"I don't believe you," Longarm said. "Say good-bye to women, Ned!"
"All right!" Ned screamed. "I helped them set it up! But neither me nor Fergus ever rode with them. I swear it!"
Longarm had been getting the truth out of men long enough to know when they were too afraid to lie, and Ned was finally telling the truth.
"Names!"
Ned gulped. "Blake Huntington was the brains behind it and you killed him."
"What about his rich Uncle Clarence?"
"The old man didn't know a damn thing about any of it. I'm sure of that much. In secret, Blake hated his uncle. Called him a damned fool and worse."
"More names."
"Big Tom Canyon and a fella they just called Hawk. They was in on it. They're the ones that I helped. The others I saw were just faces. That's all they were, I swear it."
"I've heard of Big Tom Canyon. Who else?"
"There was someone important in Reno. I never heard his name but Blake spoke about him. He has money and he was the one that seemed to be calling the shots."
"What the hell does that mean? Be specific, damn you!"
"He's a politician. They said he was a state senator and that he made his money on the Comstock Lode, but lost most of it a couple years back on mining stocks. All I know is that he was the one that they were counting on to handle things if they went wrong."
"What about Eli Wheat?"
"They talked about helping him escape if he wasn't killed. That's all I know."
Longarm stepped back. There was a train that he still might be able to catch if he was willing to brave this damned storm and ride southwest until he intercepted the Union Pacific. But he'd have to hurry and he'd have to take this pair with him and keep them under arrest until he could find a jail along the rail line. The next one that he knew about wouldn't be until he reached Rock Springs.
"All right," Longarm said, "let's get ready to ride."
"In this weather?" Ned cried. "It's storming out there and the rain will probably turn to snow."
"How far is it to the next Union Pacific depot?"
"Hell, that's clear over at Lookout! It's a good twenty miles or more!"
"Then we'd best stop talking and get to riding," Longarm said, walking over and throwing open the front door. "Help Fergus stand up and let's move!"