“That’s right.”
“Good,” Buck said, turning away and staggering toward the front door, “that’ll make it all even sweeter.”
Longarm was a decisive man, and he was pretty sure from Buck’s comment that the giant had no intention of giving up the deadly game. But without proof, there was nothing he could do, because this was a free country.
Longarm strode outside and yelled at Buck Zolliver. “If you come after me, I’ll use my gun instead of my fists! You hear me!”
Zolliver turned and Longarm’s hand automatically dropped to the butt of his six-gun. But the giant couldn’t make a play because of his now-broken right arm. Instead, he just spat blood and shook like he had the plague, only it was hatred and not a fever that was causing his huge body to quiver.
After a moment Buck turned and continued on. Longarm watched the giant disappear around a corner.
“Well,” Longarm muttered sarcastically to himself, “I sure took care of that matter like a veteran lawman.”
“Marshal?”
Longarm turned around to see the saloon owner. “Yeah?”
“My name is Terrence and I got some prime whiskey that I save just for special occasions. What you did just now was a very special occasion. Would you join me in a couple of drinks? I’d consider it an honor to drink to the man that whipped Buck Zolliver and drove him the hell outa my saloon.”
“Yeah,” Longarm said, rubbing his own aching jaw. “I’ll join you in a drink.”
Longarm was soon feeling a lot better. Not only was the whiskey as excellent as promised, but he was learning a little more about the kid named Rolf Swensen and the two women who’d also left town with Nathan Cox.
“Carole and Teresa were whores, but they were a real cut above the average,” Terrence said. “I tried like hell to get them to come to work for me behind this bar, but they wouldn’t. They chose to work in a bigger place that could pay them more. I understood, but I sure would have liked to have them working for me.”
“Did Clyde come in here before he was shot to death in the hallway?”
“Nope,” Terrence said, “he went straight to the Paradise Hotel, near as I can figure. He was a real bad one. Even worse than Buck.”
“I met their father in Cheyenne,” Longarm said. “And having met Emmett Zolliver, I can understand why those two boys were so mean.”
“Buck ain’t done with you or those others,” Terrence warned. “I can tell you that for a fact.”
“Well,” Longarm said, “I told him that I’d shoot him if he tried to follow us. I’ll not have a bushwhacker like that on my backtrail.”
“You should have broke his neck when you had the chance,” Terrence said, clucking his tongue. “Buck Zolliver is the kind of enemy that you have in your worst nightmare. I was the only witness and I damn sure would have said that you killed Buck in self-defense.”
Longarm emptied his fourth glass of whiskey. “Well,” he said, “I am sworn to uphold the law. That means bringing the guilty in for trial, not executing them, no matter how much they might deserve that fate.
Terrence nodded. He was drinking pretty fast, and Longarm could well imagine that the saloon owner was letting off a lot of pent-up rage and tension. It could not have been nice with Buck as his only customer.
“Marshal?”
“Yeah?”
“As long as I live, I’ll never see a more vicious fistfight than the one that you and Buck had a little while ago. And I’d not have believed that anyone could whip him … except maybe his own brother.”
“Buck was half drunk,” Longarm said, voicing his own thoughts on the matter. “If he’d have been completely sober, it would have been a lot rougher. Buck’s reactions were shot and his punches slow and wide. if he’d have been sober, I think I’d have had no choice but to go for my gun instead of giving him a whipping.”
“Like he gave to that cowboy named Arnie.”
“Yeah,” Longarm said, deciding that he had better return to the hotel and a very worried Diana Frank. “So long, Terrence. Thanks for the fine whiskey.”
“Anytime you’re passing through, the drinks are free in your case,” Terrence said. “And I’m not just saying that because I’m on my way to getting looped either. I mean it! As long as I own this place, if you come here, you drink free.”
Longarm smiled, but then winced with pain. “That guy sure had a punch,” he said.
“Watch out for him, Marshal. Buck will be coming after you as soon as he sobers up and can stand to ride a horse.”
Longarm supposed that was true as he walked back to the hotel and rejoined Diana, who had been soaking in a hot tub of bathwater but was now standing naked and dripping before him.
“Darling! I thought you might be dead by now! Oh,” she cried, “look what happened to your poor, battered face!”
“It’s all right,” Longarm said, glancing over the tub. I’m just a little sore and a little drunk. Help me get undressed and into that tub to soak.”
Diana helped him and then, when his chin began to dip and he started to fall asleep in the bath, she pulled him out, dried him off, and put him to bed, where he slept like the dead until ten o’clock the following morning.
Chapter 13
Since leaving Whiskey Creek on the run almost two weeks earlier, Rolf Swensen wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen from one day to the next. Nathan hadn’t recovered from his pistol-whipping, and although it was clear that he would survive, Rolf’s new friend remained dazed and disoriented. It was a frightening thing to see Nathan suffer so, and Rolf didn’t know what to do to help him. Carole and Teresa helped take care of Nathan, but neither of them knew where they were going or for what purpose save covering enough ground so that a Zolliver didn’t overtake and kill them all.
“Poor Nathan needs to see a good brain specialist,” Carole kept repeating. “A real doctor who can tell us what has happened to his mind.”
“It got scrambled,” Teresa said. “You said that Clyde pistol-whipped him real hard. Clyde was awful strong. I think Nathan’s mind was scrambled like an egg.”
“Don’t say that!” Carole protested. “Nathan will be all right. He just needs some time. He’s getting better and better every day.”
“No, he’s not,” Teresa argued. “His color is good, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m not even sure that he thinks anything.”
“Of course he does!” Carole cried. “He’s just … just confused.”
And so the pair would argue, leaving poor Rolf to wonder who was right and what was going to become of them. He had found the United States mint’s property in Nathan’s packs and was shocked to realize that his best friend was a counterfeiter and a thief, one who was probably being hunted by lawmen all over the country. Rolf had also found thousands of dollars worth of cash, mostly in hundred-dollar bills. Rolf had no doubt in his mind that they were counterfeit, although it was obvious that his friend had taken some pains to make them appear old and hard used.
As yet, Rolf had not told either of the women about his discovery. He was hoping that Nathan’s mind would clear and that his friend would take charge again and make those kinds of decisions.
“What’s the name of that little settlement up ahead?” Carole asked from the back of the buckboard, where she chose to ride beside Nathan in case he suddenly became alert and needed to speak to someone.
“I don’t know,” Rolf said. “But we must be in Arizona by now, since we already crossed the Colorado River.”
“How much did you have to pay that ferryman anyway?” Teresa asked. “He wanted a lot of money.”
“It turned out he didn’t really want that much,” Rolf said vaguely. “Not considering all these horses and the buckboard and the swiftness of the river.”
“I thought we were going to overturn for sure,” Teresa said, shaking her head as if to rid it of the memory. “I don’t mind telling you that I was terrified.”