As Devereaux led him inside Longarm remarked, "I can see how your C.O. would be anxious about channels and such after that storm along this coast, But that reminds me of something I was meaning to ask you all. Studying the map along my way up here from Brownsville, I noticed that big old Padre Island off to the east blocks this part of your big lagoon from the open gulf So vessels putting in from the high seas can only enter the long lagoon well north of here."
The officer of the day motioned Longarm to a wicker chair by the big oak desk he was holding down for his superior and dinged a bell on it as he agreed. "Corpus Christi Pass. What's your question?"
Longarm replied, "What you're doing down here instead of up yonder, where you might be able to guard this big lagoon better, no offense."
Devereaux said, "None taken. You're not the first landsman who's asked me about that. We're not the Navy. We're the Coast Guard. Our mission here is to maintain channel buoys through a stretch of shifting grounds and watch for shifty smaller vessels than the Navy might be worried about. You've no idea how many places there are for smugglers or even pirates to put in along an almost deserted coast facing a monstrous sheltered lagoon!"
Longarm didn't have to answer for the moment as an orderly the lieutenant had obviously sent for refreshments when Longarm had been crossing the parade ground came in with a tray. As he put it on the desk and popped to attention, Longarm saw he'd brought a fifth of Bombay gin, a soda-water syphon, and a couple of tall glasses packed to their brims with chopped ice. Longarm didn't notice the small pill box before Devereaux dismissed the orderly and picked it up, saying "The British Navy's found it pays to stick to gin and tonic in the tropics. But quinine seems an acquired taste, so..."
"I only take medicine when I'm feeling poorly," Longarm said. "I ain't so sure about that ice either, this close to Old Mexico and the bellyaches that go with unboiled water down this way."
Devereaux smiled as he poured tall drinks, with and without the tonic, saying, "We get our ice at cost from Pryce & Doyle in town. They've assured us they boil all the water they put in their ice machine. As a matter of fact they furnish shops and even homes in Escondrijo with the clean modern ice they manufacture as a sideline to their meat packing."
Longarm reached for his own glass as he said, "I've seen their imposing packing plant. I'll take your word they know what they're up to down this way. What I really came out here to talk about was U.S. Deputy Marshall Gilbert and our federal prisoner, Clay Baldwin. I understand you've got 'em both out here?"
Devereaux nodded. "Young Gilbert's in our sick bay, on orders of that federal germ chaser, Miss Richards. He seems to be feeling better, but Miss Richards says he's to stay in bed until she feels sure he won't run another fever, and she ought to know."
Longarm nodded, sipped the drink cautiously, tired as he already felt, and said, "I heard you've had some of that fever out this way as well. Where are you holding Baldwin, in your brig?"
Devereaux sounded reasonable as ever as he replied, "We've gotten off much lighter than they have in town. The skipper thinks it might be because of our more healthful location. Baldwin's being held in solitary confinement on bread and water, pending your arrival."
That didn't sound so reasonable to Longarm. The tall deputy put his barely tasted drink down and rose to his considerable height as he grimly asked, "After a bout of a killing fever? Who ordered a diet of piss and punk for my sick prisoner?"
Devereaux sighed. "Don't look at me. Lieutenant Flynn ordered him placed in solitary confinement after Baldwin called him a seagoing sissy who sat down to piss."
Longarm smiled thinly at the picture. "I'll have him in leg irons if he talks that way to me on the way back to Colorado. In the meanwhile, the man's been dangerously sick and I want him at least on a cot with some solid grub in him. I'm going to have to borrow a government mount off you, which I'll naturally sign for, and it's my understanding I'll find my own Winchester, saddle, and possibles out here, where Doc Richards had 'em brought from town."
Devereaux looked unhappy. "I'm afraid we can't let you into the quarters set aside for Miss Richards before she comes back from that fever ward she's set up in town. She usually has supper out here in the officers' mess just after retreat."
Longarm nodded. "I want her to look at both Gilbert and our prisoner before I carry either into town in any case. So let's get back to getting Baldwin out of that solitary cell and wrapping him around some solid rations!"
Devereaux almost pleaded, "I can't! Lieutenant Flynn left me here to see his standing orders were carried out, not to countermand them in his absence! He'd have me before the mast for mutiny! You have to understand that Lieutenant Flynn runs a taut ship here!"
The collections of whitewashed buildings in a glorified sandbox wasn't Longarm's notion of any ship, but he saw the position the kid was in. So he asked when the ferocious Lieutenant Flynn was expected back, and when Devereaux said likely by sundown, Longarm said, "Reckon Baldwin and my old McClellan can last that long without me. I'd like to see Deputy Gilbert now."
The lieutenant rang that bell on the desk some more, and that orderly came in looking taut as ever. Devereaux told the enlisted man to show their guest to the sick bay. So it only took a few minutes, and then Longarm was alone with the pale but cheerful enough Rod Gilbert from his own outfit.
Gilbert was barely out of his teens, but according to Billy Vail, a high school graduate as well as a good shot. The department had sure gotten fancy since President Hayes had started cleaning up the federal establishment old Free and Easy Grant had left all covered with cigar ash, informal hiring practices, and graft.
Longarm sat on the steel sprung cot next to Gilbert's, noting the two of them seemed to have the eight-cot sick bay all to themselves. So as soon as he asked Gilbert how he felt he said, "They told me at least a few old boys out here came down with the same mysterious fever, Rod. So what are you doing out here alone?"
Gilbert said, "That lady sawbones, Miss Norma, wanted to carry me in to her fever ward with the rest of 'em. I said I had to stay out here and guard our prisoner. So she allowed it might be all right, seeing she's been eating and sleeping out this way."
Longarm found himself fighting back a yawn as he growled, "You ain't been guarding Baldwin worth shit if you've let 'em put a sick man on piss and punk just for sassing a fool officer! Did you know about that by the way?"
Gilbert nodded soberly. "I told 'em they had no right to punish a civilian outlaw for busting their Coast Guard rules. But they said I'd placed Baldwin under Coast Guard discipline when I asked 'em to hold him in their brig for me, and damn it, I don't know where they've hid my boots and side arm!"
Longarm yawned wider and said, "I want Doc Richards to look at you before the three of us shoot our way out of here. Lord, I don't know why I feel so sleepy this afternoon. When you say they, are you jawing about they in general, or that Lieutenant Flynn they all seem so scared of for some reason?"
Gilbert said, "They got plenty of reason to be scared of Flynn. He don't yell like Billy Vail. One strike and you're out with that old boy. He's been polite enough to me, I got to say, but they do say he goes by the book and you'd best pay heed to every comma if you want to keep wearing your rating around here. They say he sends 'em to the brig if they forget to cross a T or dot an I."