by Evans, Tabor
“Well,” Longarm said, “I guess that I will be going all the way to Carson City with you.”
“Nice to have the company on such a cold, dreary day,” the man said. “My name is Wade Talbert.”
“Custis Long.”
“I take it you’re not a freighter,” Talbert said.
“What makes you think I’m not?”
“Well, you asked me right away if we were going to slide off the road up near the Summit. A driver would know that anyone pulling up or down that grade would have to have his horses shoed with cleats and ice spikes.”
“I guess a driver would.”
They were passing through Gold Hill, which looked about half the size that it had the last time Longarm had visited. Still, there were three saloons, and every one of them was open even at this early hour in the morning. The Red Ass Café was open, and through its dirty front window Longarm saw that it was doing a good breakfast business. Two men bundled up against the cold were standing outside the door waiting for a table, and when they saw Talbert, they waved and called out a greeting.
Talbert waved back but didn’t slow.
“Are there many mines still producing in Gold Hill and Virginia City?”
“A few,” Talbert answered. “Mostly just the deepest ones with the most money to keep digging. Last I heard the Ophir was down to eight hundred and fifty feet.”
“That’s mighty deep,” Longarm said. “I imagine it’s hotter than hell down that far.”
“It is,” Talbert agreed. “The Comstock Lode Miner’s Union has it in their contract that every miner on every shift working deeper than five hundred feet gets to be given a big bucket of ice or snow. But at temperatures well over a hundred and ten degrees, they say that the ice and snow is gone in twenty or thirty minutes.”
“I don’t know how men can stand working down there at those temperatures.”
“They’re desperate people and they need jobs. Me, I’ve always been a freighter and I’ll die one. It’s a job that you can do right up to the end unless the company you work for expects you to load and unload your own wagon.“Yours doesn’t?”
“Nope. I told them that they’d better not expect it, either. I’ve had too many friends who caved in to loading and unloading every wagon they drove, and they all ended up with real bad backs that wouldn’t take the jolting of a wagon. They either have to find some lesser job or they’ll starve. But not me.”
Longarm and Wade Talbert carried on a pleasant conversation all the way off Sun Mountain and down into the high desert. By noon, they were pulling into Carson City.
“You been here before?” Talbert asked.
“Yeah, but not for a few years.”
“It hasn’t changed much,” the driver said. “Carson City is still a real nice town. My wife and I live back up in Gold Hill, but the water tastes terrible and the ground is so rocky you can’t raise so much as a tomato all summer. Too much alkali in the water and earth. That water will make you sick if you drink more than a few cups of it. We have all our drinking water brought up from Carson City. The water down here is good and comes from wells dug along the Carson River. My wife can’t wait to move down here, soon as I get another job.”
“Where is the V and T Railroad headquarters?”
“Right over there.” Talbert pointed to a big stone building near a roundhouse. “Want me to drive you right up to their door?”
“Not necessary,” Longarm told the friendly driver. “It’s warmed up enough that the ice is melting and I’ll be just fine walking.”
“Well, hope you don’t get into too much trouble,” the driver said. “Dirk and Harry have bad reputations, and I hear that they’re mean and deadly fighters. That’s why I didn’t get off this wagon when Dirk started cussin’ me out at the Summit, even though he was clearly in the wrong. No sense in gettin’ your ass carved up or stomped in the snow over nothin’ that important, is there?”
“Nope,” Longarm said, “no sense at all.”
“I ain’t afraid of any man, but I got a wife to take care of and we’re expecting our first child this spring. That’s why I let that man cuss me out so bad.”
“You did the right thing, Talbert. A man has to walk away from a fight sometimes when others depend on his health for their livelihood.”
“Well I’m glad to hear you say that ’cause I’ve been chafin’ some at lettin’ another man insult me and do at me so bad.”
“Maybe I can set things right for you,” Longarm said. “I’m all alone and don’t have a wife and a baby coming to worry about.”
“Well, don’t do nothin’ stupid on my account,” Talbert offered. “I feel bad enough about backin’ down, and I’d feel even worse if I thought what I told you got you killed or hurt real bad.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I hope so. Just . . . just be careful if you try to collect money from either of ’em or have a bone to pick,” Talbert warned. “You’re big and strong . . . but so are they.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Longarm climbed down from the buckboard and headed toward the railroad’s headquarters. He unbuttoned the buttons on his overcoat and removed his gloves, folded them, and stuffed them into his coat pocket. If he suddenly came upon the Raney brothers, he would draw his weapon and arrest them on the spot. If they resisted and wanted a fight, he’d not hesitate to put them in the ground six feet under the ice, mud, and snow.
If he did that, Wade Talbert sure wouldn’t have to worry about them if he got a better job hauling timbers for the V&T Railroad.
Chapter 21
“So you’re lookin’ for Dirk Pierce and Harold York, huh?” the older man in the V&T Railroad headquarters said suspiciously.
“That’s right.”
“What for?”
Longarm had realized many years ago that there were some people that you liked at first sight and others that irritated you the moment you met them. This pompous little man fit in the latter category. But nevertheless he ground his teeth and managed to say, “I’ve got some past business to settle with them.”
The man was short and bald, with little wire-rimmed spectacles and a little red bobbin for a nose. “Look,” he said, sizing Longarm up. “If you’re the law, then I want you to know right off that we don’t have anything to do with their behavior outside this job. We don’t ask ’em much about their past, and we don’t promise them any rose garden for their future. All that we care about here is if they are honest, hardworking, and can do the job that we hire ’em for.”
“Is that it?” Longarm managed to ask.
“Is what it?”
“The speech you just gave. I was wondering if I had to listen to any more of your company-line bullshit.”
The V&T man flushed with anger. “I don’t much care for your attitude, mister. You come in here and take up my valuable time and then you get smart-assed with me.”
Longarm reached out with both hands and grabbed the man’s prominent ears. He twisted them hard enough that the man squealed in pain, and when he tried to pull back, Longarm yanked his face up close.
“Listen, you self-important little turd. I’m the law all right, and I’ve tracked those two men all the way from Denver. Their names aren’t Pierce and York; they are brothers named Dirk and Harold Raney. But the most important thing you need to know is that if you don’t answer my questions, I’m going to twist your big ears around so that you’ll permanently only hear from behind.”
“Ouch! Oh, gawd! Let me go! Please! Help!”
There were other men in the office, but Longarm had acted so quickly they were all stunned and frozen with indecision.
“Answer my question!” Longarm hissed.
“They’re on the job hauling timber out of the foothills!” the man cried. “They make one trip a da
y!”
“When are they due back?”
“By four or five o’clock!”
Longarm released the man and planted his hands on the counter. “I’ll wait for them right here,” he decided. “You have any problem with that?”
“Gosh no, not me!”
“Good. I’ll take that seat over there by the potbellied stove. A cup of coffee would be appreciated.”
The man rubbed his red ears and in a petulant voice asked, “Are you a Pinkerton man or a federal marshal, and what did they do?”
“They killed a woman and a policeman in Baltimore,” Longarm said. “And I’m damn sure they killed a man in Rawlins and probably a lot more that I don’t know about.”
“Oh my gawd!”
“Coffee,” Longarm growled. “Black and strong.”
“Yes, sir!”
Longarm took a chair and accepted a cup of coffee, which was good and hot. He wondered what was going on up in Virginia City with Milly Ott and faulted himself for not at least leaving her a note. She was a good woman, and the idea of accepting Mayor Plummer’s five thousand dollars reward money and hooking up with the woman on a permanent basis was starting to nibble at his mind. A man could do a lot worse than to change his life by marrying such a pretty and loving woman and getting a ten-thousand-dollar start to boot.
Yep, a man could do a whole hell of a lot worse, Longarm thought as he sipped coffee and reached for a newspaper that was folded close at hand.
• • •
Milly Ott wasn’t prepared to wake up alone. She had slept very late, and now she hurried to get dressed and go downstairs, where she expected Custis would be waiting for her. Today would be a very important day . . . probably the most important in her entire life.
Today they would find and kill the Raney brothers and then send a telegraph to Mayor Plummer in Denver apprising him of that fact and asking that their respective five thousand dollars in reward money be sent by telegram to either Reno, Virginia City, or perhaps Carson City. Mayor Plummer would no doubt insist on proof of the deaths of the Raney brothers, but Milly had already figured that one out.
They would get a local judge to certify that the Raney brothers were indeed dead. If necessary, they would find the local mayor and any other officials that Mayor Plummer might require before he was satisfied that his long quest for restitution had been satisfied.
“Milly!”
She was in the hotel lobby and turned to see Brian Ballard coming to meet her. “Good morning,” he said.
“I’m afraid that I’ve really overslept this morning,” she told him. “Have you seen Custis around?”
“No, but someone else saw him leave very early this morning.”
“To go to breakfast?”
“No,” Brian said, “he was last seen boarding a buckboard headed over the Summit.”
“Oh my gawd! He went after the Raney brothers all on his own!”
Brian Ballard saw her look of shock and consternation. “What’s wrong? Is there something that I can help you with?”
Milly took a deep breath. “I need coffee and something to eat,” she said. “Brian, what I’m about to tell you is going to be confidential and important. Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course.”
“Then let’s go find some breakfast . . . or I suppose lunch is more to the hour . . . and I’ll tell you everything.”
“I’m at your service,” he said, taking her arm.
• • •
Thirty minutes later they were seated in a Virginia City café, and Milly told her new young friend from Seattle all about the Raney brothers and about Mayor Plummer and his badly wounded son back in Denver.
“I made Marshal Long . . . who by the way gave up his badge but admits that he is still a federal marshal with that authority . . . bring me here to find and help him either kill or arrest the Raney brothers.”
“But you just said that the mayor wants them dead.”
“Yes, because I doubt that if we brought them back to Denver for a trial, they’d be convicted and sentenced to hang. You see, we don’t have evidence that they murdered that man in Rawlins, and we don’t have anyone other than Henry Plummer to even identify them as the murderers of his mother and that policeman so long ago. And that is why the mayor really wants them tracked down and shot.”
“What a story. And you think that Custis Long has gone after them this morning?”
“I’m sure of it. The Raney brothers were supposed to be working for a freighting company in Gold Hill. That must be where Custis went to find and I hope to kill them.”
“Then we should go there.”
“Yes,” Milly said, finishing her breakfast, “we should at once. Would you mind hiring someone to deliver us down to Gold Hill?”
Brian Ballard nodded, but his expression was troubled. Noticing it, Milly said, “I see that I’ve badly upset you with my confession. I’m sorry. You’ve come all the way from Seattle to the Comstock Lode to evaluate your mine’s potential for profit, and I’m here to try to see that two murderers are caught and killed.”
Brian Ballard swallowed hard and stared down at his napkin for a moment. “Milly, now that you’ve been so totally honest with me, I have a confession of my own to make.”
“I . . .”
He took a deep breath. “The truth of it is that I don’t even have the money to hire us a conveyance down to Gold Hill.”
“What!”
“I’m almost dead broke,” he said quietly.
“But what about the Asian import business and your investor friends and . . .”
“I do have a little import business in Seattle, but it barely affords me a living. And the reason I’ve scrimped and saved up for the last few years and bought all the expensive clothes that I’m wearing is that I did inherit some mining stock and I was desperately hoping . . . gambling really . . . that it was still worth several thousand dollars.”
“Well, isn’t it?”
“No,” he said. “Last night I went to a saloon and asked about the Sentinel Mine, and I was told that it was abandoned years ago and all of its equipment was sold to debtors for pennies on the dollar. The mine is just an open pit now, used by the city as a dump for refuse. The Sentinel Mine is closed and will never be reopened.”
Milly groaned. “So your stock is . . .”
“Not worth the paper it’s printed upon,” Brian said sadly. “In fact, I was told that there are still creditors hoping to recoup some of their investments and that I would be wise to leave Virginia City before they caught wind that I was here in town.”
“So you’re penniless?”
“Nearly. I have about six dollars, and I was wise enough to have bought a round-trip ticket back to Seattle. But other than that and my small business and a little cottage that I did inherit, I’ve nothing.”
“Oh, damn,” Milly uttered. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”
“I’ll survive, and in fact I expect that if I work hard and long enough, my little import business will dramatically expand. I didn’t dare hinge all my hopes for prosperity on the Sentinel Mine. And I’m not one to go into a bottle with this Comstock Lode setback. I guess I was just hoping to get rich quick.”
Milly reached into her purse. “I’m buying our breakfast.”
“I have enough to do that,” he argued.
“No, you spent a lot of money that you couldn’t afford on Custis and me last night, and I am going to buy your breakfast.”
“Last night at dinner, I was filled with optimism and certain that the Sentinel Mine was still valuable. What foolish optimism.”
“Never you mind that,” Milly said, laying her hand on his. “You’re a fine man, and it’s clear to me that you are a gentleman who will go far in this world.”
; He looked up with hope in his blue eyes. “Do you really think so?”
“I’d bet on it,” Milly said, leaving enough money on the table. “Now, I understand that Gold Hill is less than a half mile from where we are sitting. I don’t know about you, but I’m stuffed and could use a good, brisk walk.”
“So could I.”
“Then let’s walk over the Summit to Gold Hill and just hope and pray that Custis Long has found and shot those Raney brothers dead, so that he and I can each collect a five-thousand-dollar reward.”
“That sounds like a fine idea,” Brian Ballard said, rising and offering Milly his arm.
Such a gentleman and, although not big or nearly as strong as Custis, really quite handsome, Milly thought as they set out to find Gold Hill and Custis Long.
Chapter 22
“Oh, dear gawd!” cried the V&T officer whose ears Longarm had twisted so hard. “Here they come!” He whirled around and shouted to the others in the office. “Everyone get down on the floor and stay down!”
Longarm thought that advice was probably sound as he slipped his gun out of his holster, checked it one more time, and then finished his coffee. Speaking to no one in particular, he said, “I’m going to arrest them outside so that it will be safer. Still, if the bullets start to fly, a stray could come through the front window. So everyone should stay down.”
“Can’t you just arrest them?” the man whined. “I mean, isn’t that what a lawman or a Pinkerton agent is supposed to do?”
“It never quite works out like you expect,” Longarm said, pushing back his coat and stepping outside to close the door behind him.
The Raney brothers were big and bundled up in heavy, muddy buffalo robes. They were each driving a logging wagon pulled by eight mud-spattered mules. Their loads of thick pine logs had all been trimmed but not yet peeled of their bark.
Longarm wasn’t a man to hesitate and look for the perfect moment to go into action. He slogged across the snowy yard and stopped thirty feet in front of the two approaching wagons.
