The two men went outside into the night.
It was a funny thing, but the mountain air that a little while ago had seemed so clean and invigorating now felt only cold and faintly depressing to Long.
There was no sign of the chief deputy in the quiet office when Longarm and Markham got there. The drunk had managed to crawl onto the bare, wooden slats of one of the cots in his cell and was sleeping off his excesses. His nose was somewhat out of position, and the lower part of his face was a mask of dried blood from where he had hit the floor when the deputy jugged him, but he seemed relatively unharmed.
Markham took his seat behind the desk and knitted his fingers together on the front of his vest. No propping of feet for him.
He was a fine-looking figure of a man, Longarm realized. Distinguished, even dignified looking. He looked every inch a bright and capable wielder of law and authority.
Now, sir, what is so urgent that you must take me away from my evening relaxations?
Relaxations. Was that what it was called in Idaho? Where Longarm came from there were other names for it. But no matter. Right now there were other fish to fry.
Longarm searched his coat pockets to find first his badge and then the duplicate copy of the telegram from Fort Smith, Arkansas, that had started this whole thing. He showed both to Markham.
Ah. Oh, yes. Mmmm. Markham examined both the badge and the telegraph form with care, then returned them to their owner. Now I understand.
Do you?
Of course. Naturally I do, Marshal. And naturally I will be glad to cooperate with you in every way possible.
Markham smiled, and Longarm felt relief flood through him. After meeting the sheriffs choice for a chief deputy and, honestly, knowing something now about the place where the elected sheriff here chose to spend his free time Longarm had been getting damn well worried about the likelihood of success here against the White Hoods. Markham, though, seemed entirely willing to help. The first hurdle had been cleared.
Thanks, Sheriff. Longarm crossed his legs and pulled out a cheroot.
It wasnt midnight yet, and the two of them had fourteen, fifteen hours to work out the details of how this one was going to go. And when they were done, by damn, the White Hoods would be broken and on their way to well-deserved prison terms.
Yes, by damn, Longarm thought, things were coming along very nicely for a change.
Chapter Fourteen
Henry removed his spectacles, took a freshly washed but unironed handkerchief from his hip pocket, and carefully cleaned and polished the lenses of the glasses. It was something to do. Something better than screaming and throwing things, which was what he truly wanted to do right now.
He turned toward the conductor, who was sipping hot coffee and thumbing through the pages of a dog-eared Police Gazette. Cant you
Sorry, govnor. Not till the order comes through. He pointed needlessly toward the signal box, which still showed the damnable red flipper for the damnable train waiting endlessly on the damnable siding. The freight Henry had saved all of an hour and three quarters by taking the westbound freight out of Cheyenne instead of waiting for the through passengerhad been sitting on the siding for five hours now, waiting for God knew what. The westbound passenger had swept by them several hours before, and still the freight sat immobile on the siding, and no amount of persuasion or threatening or cursing could convince the crew to violate their orders and get the freight moving west again.
But
Sorry, govnor. We dont move until we get our green signal. You know that.
Henry chafed and champed, but he knew it would do no good whatsoever.
That signal could be broken, he said at one point.
If it is, the conductor said patiently, therell be a repair crew along by an by. He turned another page and leaned down to inspect more closely an advertisement that promised a cure for baldness. I wonder if this really works. They have testamonials. See? Surely they couldnt lie about a thing like that. Not in print, surely. I wond
Cant you send someone at least to look at the box? See if the thing is working properly? Or you could wire ahead to Rock Springs to verify the stop order. Cant you do at least that much?
The conductor gave him a dirty look and went back to his perusal of the advertisement.
Henry turned to face the flimsy wall of the caboose, doubled up a fist, and hammered the wall hard enough to make the thin slats vibrate along the full length of the sooty crew car.
That wont do you any good, Marshal, a brakeman said patiently. Were stuck here until they tell us different.
The knowledge did not make Henry feel better in the slightest. Groaning aloud, he spun about and began once again to pace back and forth along the length of the narrow aisle of his damnable prison.
Chapter Fifteen
Longarm pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed at his eyes, but the relief was more imagined than real. His head was throbbing, and he felt like his skull might burst at any moment. Another drink of Markhams horrible bourbon might help, although that too would be an illusion of comfort and not the real thing. What he really needed was twelve hours of sleep.
The ride from Snake Creek to Meade Park trying to beat the departure of the Thunderbird Run
the trip up here and a blessed few hours of sleep
now he and the distinguished-looking but unbelievably stupid sheriff had been up all the damned night again arguing over details of how they were supposed to trap and capture one of the slickest damn robbery gangs to come down the pike since Bert the Poet.
Jesus!
Markhams entire force consisted of himself, Chief Deputy Roland Mayeswho Longarm wouldnt trust to wipe his own ass correctlyand a Deputy Charlie Frye, who looked to be fifteen, and a damned innocent fifteen at that. The kid was a skinny little bit of a thing with biceps like twigs and no armament more serious than a whittling knife. Longarm suspected that no one in town would trust the boy with an actual firearm. And Longarm couldnt blame them. If he was given a revolver to carry he likely wouldnt be strong enough to lift and aim the thing.
Look, Longarm said again, repeating territory often covered through the predawn hours, there is no way this local force of yours is going to have enough firepower to make the White Hoods do any more than laugh when you jump out to face them. We have to get some help from the mine security people. We just have to, thats all.
Now, damnit, Marshal Long, the sheriff had not been invited to address Longarm by nickname, you told me yourself, right up front, that this has to be a job with inside connections. Otherwise, why try and take the train here. It has to be an inside operation, and there has to be some plan for the getaway that we havent discovered yet. Although, of course, we shall as soon as we have some of those gents in our cells. Then, sir, we shall get the truth out of them.
And I am telling you, Sheriff, that four guns
Three, Markham interrupted. My forte is administration, actually. But three men properly placed and properly armed can cow any group of sneak thieves. I am convinced of this.
Markham seemed quite unperturbed by the thought of sending Longarm and two useless yokels after the whole damned White Hood outfit when that train arrived in just a few hours.
What did disturb him, Longarm was convinced, was the idea of sharing the glory with any private force of mine security guards. The man would rather risk losing the White Hoods than share the political benefit of the capture. There was no point in asking it outright, of course, but Longarm would be willing to bet his next years pay that someone heading one of the mine security forces was hoping to challenge Paul Markham come the next elections.