"Well, I did. When you took on Spud and the boys that day you showed up, I put you down in my book as a gunslick on the owlhoot trail. But after I'd thought a bit, that didn't make sense. If you was on the dodge, you'd've laid low, not called no notice to yourself."
Longarm wasn't going to waste the man's loquaciousness. He threw the logical question. "After that, how'd you tab me?"
"I didn't, till now. You had me plumb puzzled. Right now, though, it's popped into my mind you might just be a land agent for one of the big railroads. I keep hearin' there's two or three of'em that wants to run a line down to the Gulf. If you're interested in land, but not in ranchin', that's all the reason I can see."
Longarm wasn't too surprised at Tucker's conclusion. Everywhere in the West, railroads were adding lines to supplement their major routes, and right-of-way agents were thick. Dropping his voice, he said, "I won't say yes or no. But suppose I was, now. Think you might help me pick up some land on the quiet?"
"You're damn right, I can! What I say is law, anywheres inside of a hundred miles of here." Tucker looked around. "Listen, this ain't the place to talk about a deal, Custis. Let's go back to the office. The boys are all out, keepin' an eye on the fiesta. We can talk private there."
* * *
In the sheriff's office, with the outer door closed, Tucker shouted, "Wahonta! Bring the whiskey bottle and some glasses!" When the Apache girl came in with a half-filled bottle and some thick tumblers, he told her brusquely, "Now, go tend to whatever it is you're doin'. We got business to talk."
Longarm's eyes followed the girl as she left. Tucker noticed him watching her. He said, "Maybe she don't look like much to you, but that little 'Pache gal's the sweetest piece of ass I run into in a long time. A-course, I broke her in right. I was the first man ever rode her. She wasn't but only fourteen when I bought her off the resettlement camp south of here, a couple years ago."
"She's a right nice-looking girl," Longarm commented neutrally.
Tucker had poured, now he passed Longarm a glass across the desk. "Now, then. Like I told you, I'm the law here — sheriff, judge, and jury. When I say frog, people jumps. I can get whatever land you're after, Custis, water and mineral rights throwed in. You call the tune, I make 'em play it." He waited for Longarm to take the bait, and when no response followed he added, "Understand, now, I'd look to git a little something for my trouble. A sort of commission, we could call it."
"We could call it that," Longarm agreed. "But I got a better deal than that."
"I'm listenin'."
"Let's just suppose I was after land for a railroad right-of-way. Think you could push the price I'd pay down low enough so I could double what I'd charge the railroad? That way, we'd have a real big piece of cash to split up between us."
Tucker grinned. "That'd be easier'n pissin' in a dishpan. I can set my own price on what land you'd want. And there's ways to fix up deeds and papers so the railroad never would catch on."
"I know all about deeds and papers," Longarm said. "There's one thing that bothers me, though. How about your boys? Spud and Lefty and Ralston, would you have to cut them in on the deal?"
"Hell, no! I let them pick up what they can, cut 'em in on my deals when I feel like it, but you can leave them to me to handle." Tucker splashed more whiskey into his glass.
Longarm said, picking his words carefully, "Meaning no offense, Sheriff, but are you including Spud in that? I guess you heard I had a little run-in with him in the saloon last night, after you told him everything was supposed to be nice and friendly."
"Well, I hadn't heard, but you got to remember, Spud's hotheaded. He's got a real quick temper."
"I noticed that yesterday. Times I wondered if you had him on a real tight halter. He was just about sassing you."
Tucker nodded, his blubbery lips twisted angrily. "I ain't forgot that, Custis." He thought for a moment. "Look here now. You've laid it out straight with me, I'll do the same with you. Spud's been gettin' uppity of late. I got a hunch he's feelin' too big for his britches. Gittin' idees, if you follow me."
Longarm nodded. "Like taking things over, here in Los Perros? "
"Somethin' like that," Tucker agreed unhappily. He drained his glass and refilled it. "Listen, Spud was just a lard-ass boy when I talked Quantrill into lettin' him ride with us. And I put him in as my segundo when I took over here. I made him, and I can bust him."
"Suppose you can't?"
Tucker winked across the desk. "You recall I told you I had you tabbed for a gunslick at first? One reason I let you off so light, let you stick around, is so I could watch and see if you might be a man who could he'p me handle Spud, when the time's right."
Longarm leaned back in his chair. "Well, now. I could handle him, but whether I would handle him, that'd depend." He decided it was time to get on another track. When Tucker sobered up, he'd remember their talk, and might just regret it. He asked, "How'd you get to be boss man here, anyhow? I bet it took some doing."
"Sure it did, and here's how I done it." Tucker slapped the heavy ivory-handled Schneider & Glasswick revolver that hung from his gunbelt. The old-fashioned pistol had caught Longarm's eye the day before. He'd noticed it had been modified to handle cartridge loads, and had wondered why the sheriff still carried such an outdated weapon when new Colts were so cheap and plentiful.
Tucker continued, "I used this as free as I had to, just like I did in the war. This is the same gun Quantrill give me, you know that? Had it worked over, but I still hold to it. Maybe because it's the gun I killed my first man with."
Longarm saw that the sheriff was growing maudlin. It was time to cut off their talk. He said, "You let me think about what you've told me. We'll get down to cases later on."
"Wait a minute! Have we got a deal, or haven't we?"
"Maybe. I got to sleep on it. My tail'd be in a worse crack than yours would, if what we was doing leaked out."
"Don't worry about that." Tucker slapped his holster again. "I can shut up anybody that starts to give us trouble."
"I still want to think about it some. We'll talk some more tomorrow. " Longarm stood up. "You going back to watch the fiesta? "
"No. I think I'll just stay here and lay up with Wahonta for a while." As Longarm went to the door, Tucker said, "One more thing, Custis. If we get in this deal, it wouldn't do for us to act too friendly. Them railroads swing a lot of steam. If they get a hint there's somethin' funny going on, they might even get them damn federal marshals in here to check up on us."
"Sure. I'll keep that in mind." Longarm opened the door and waved. "Enjoy yourself, Sheriff. We'll talk about things tomorrow. "
Walking back to the plaza, Longarm took stock. He was beginning to make tracks to where he wanted to be. He'd found what was pretty sure to be the crossing of the new Laredo Loop, and his hunch was that it would somehow lead him to Nate Webster's frail. He was getting on terms with Tucker that should open the frail leading to information about Captain Hill and the 10th Cavalry deserters. Best of all, just by keeping quiet and letting Tucker's crooked imagination do his work for him, Longarm had repaired the damage done by his impulsive move in stopping the whipping the day he'd arrived in Los Perros. On the bad side, his snap decision to keep his real identity covered might hinder him from asking too many open questions. In a place like Los Perros, there'd be gossip aplenty. Everybody in town probably knew what was going on, and they'd be leery of answering questions put by a man who had no authority to do so. Still, in very little time, he'd made a pretty fair start, good enough for him to take the evening off and spend a little time at the fiesta with Lita. He had mixed feelings about Lita. There were times when she seemed to be little more than a child, and times when a woman showed through. Maybe how he'd act would depend on which side of her showed up strongest when the time came, if it came.