Several times he’d almost had Davis trapped in a hand when he, Longarm, knew that he had the best cards. But each time something had warned Davis, and he had dropped out before the final bet. And in the same way, Longarm had eluded the net that Austin Davis had several times spread for him. Still, it seemed that, once again, Davis was going to be the big winner.
Longarm got out his watch and looked at it. It was five minutes to midnight. He stood up and shoved his roll of bills in his pocket.
Austin Davis looked up. “You leaving us? So early? Hell, it’s just the shank of the evening.”
“Glad you think so because you’re coming too.”
Davis said, “Marshal, I am right happy here.”
Longarm crooked his finger. “Get your money. Me an’ you are going to have that talk.”
“What if I ain’t ready to talk?”
Longarm shrugged. “It’s all the same to me. One way will be easier on you, that’s all. But you will be coming along.”
Davis said, “Well, since you’ve been so nice about it and all. How can I refuse an invitation so elegantly put.” He stood up and began gathering up his money. He looked around the table. “Gentlemen, if I disappear you will all remember this moment, will you not?”
One of them said, “All I know is you are leaving with most of my money. Hell, Marshal, you’re a winner too.”
Longarm looked at him. He said, “Why, hell, yes, I’m winning. That’s the point of the game, you damn fool.”
Davis said, “See, Jack? That’s why you always lose your money. You never had anyone explain the point of the game to you before.”
Longarm said, “Let’s go.”
Davis said, “Am I under arrest, Marshal?”
Longarm said, “Not yet, Davis, but the night is young.”
Chapter 4
They walked the short distance to Longarm’s hotel. Austin Davis said, “Where in hell are we going?”
“We’re going somewhere quiet to have a talk. My hotel room.”
“What if I don’t want to have a talk?”
Longarm shrugged. “Then I reckon you go on back to the poker game and find out how many kinfolks Amos Goustwhite has got and how many of them have heard about you breaking his arm.”
“Hell, I ain’t afraid of none of these cross-eyed inbred jackasses.”
“How about a couple dozen of them back-shooters and bushwhackers?”
Davis was quiet for a few steps. Then he said, “Well, I don’t reckon it will hurt to come along and hear what you’ve got to say. You got any decent whiskey?”
“I got a little of the finest Maryland whiskey made, but I ain’t going to waste it on you. I got some other been in a bottle just about as long as it’s been called whiskey. You can have some of that.”
They were about to enter the hotel when Davis said, “I always like to deal with a generous man.”
As they walked through the small lobby Longarm said, “Are you wanted?”
“By the law, no. Maybe by a few husbands. Why? What the hell difference does it make? There’s about a half a dozen or more wanted men in this county and you ain’t laid a finger on none of them. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised wasn’t one or two of them in that saloon tonight.”
Longarm was unlocking the door to his room. He shoved it open so Davis could enter and said, “What makes you think that? You referring to the Shaker bunch?”
Austin Davis went into the room and looked around. He shrugged his shoulders. “Hell, why not? From what I’ve been able to pick up they are tied mighty close to a lot of people around here.”
“Sit down,” Longarm said. He made a motion at a small round table set at one end of the room. There were three wooden chairs around it.
Longarm sat in one and Austin Davis took another. There was a half a quart of his Maryland whiskey sitting in the middle of the table along with several glasses. Longarm uncorked the bottle, took up a glass, poured it half full, and shoved it across to Davis. He did the same for himself, and they made a toast and then both took a good drink. Austin Davis looked at his glass and said, “If this is green whiskey, then I want to know where I can buy a whole bunch of it.”
Longarm lounged back in his chair. “I made a mistake. I forgot I left the good stuff out.”
Davis took another drink and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Well, out with it, Marshal. I know you ain’t giving this whiskey away to folks who irritate you for no good reason.”
“Who said you irritate me?”
“I got eyes. Besides, I irritate most folks.” He chuckled. “I don’t know why, though. I’m just trying to get along.”
Longarm sipped at his whiskey, studying Davis over the rim of his glass. He needed some help from someone with a very special talent, and this insolent man who was so cocksure, and probably with good reason, just might be what he was looking for. “Davis,” he said, “it is hard to tell when you are bluffing. I noticed that in the poker game. You do it well.”
“Do what well?”
“Keep the other players off balance. You make it so they never feel quite comfortable about what you are up to.”
“Ain’t that the point?”
“You that good away from the poker table?”
Davis took a sip of whiskey and set his glass down. “I’m alive, ain’t I?”
“Where you from?”
Davis shrugged. “Oh, different places. I move around a lot. I guess if you could say one area, it would be the border.” He glanced up at Longarm. “You know the border. A place of sunny climes filled with shady characters.”
“Any one place?”
Davis stiffled a yawn. “‘Scuse me. Oh, not really. I guess if I was pressed I’d say Del Rio, but what is true today might not be true tomorrow. You got any reason for this big interest you are taking in me?”
“Maybe. What the hell you doing way off up here, hundred and fifty miles from Del Rio. At least.”
Davis shrugged. “Maybe I wasn’t in Del Rio when I started this way. Maybe I was closer.”
“That still don’t tell me what you are doing here.”
Davis finished his drink and set his empty glass on the table. Longarm shoved the bottle over to him and watched while he refilled his glass.
Davis took the time to take a sip of his new drink before speaking. “What makes that your business?” he said.
“The fact that there is an outlaw gang operating around here and a man in town to act as their eyes and ears would be handy. You’re a stranger. Best I can figure it, you came to town about two days after I did.”
Austin Davis laughed. “Three, if you want to be accurate about the matter.”
“All right, three then. Now what brings you to these parts? I can’t see much here would interest a man such as yourself.”
Davis gave him a quick look. “Hold on there. What do you mean, ‘a man such as yourself? Exactly how have you got me pegged?”
Longarm pursed his lips. After a moment’s thought he said, “Well, you ain’t exactly a working cowboy. And ain’t nobody going to mistake you for a preacher. A fool looking to get killed might think you are on the soft side. You ain’t short of coin. You are either a gambler or a man who uses a gun for something other than sporting purposes. So answer the question.”
Davis laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair.
“I reckon, to be exact about the matter, you could say I’m down here to do a little gleaning.”
Longarm frowned. “Gleaning? How is that?”
Austin Davis leaned forward and took up his glass. He had another drink and then stared at the amber-colored whiskey. “‘Bout a couple of weeks ago,” he said, “I was up from the border. Hanging around in Kimble County, near Junction City. Of course I’d been hearing about these goings-on for at least a year, this foolishness in Mason County. I’d been meaning to look into it, and then I heard you were here.” He gave Longarm the flicker of a smile. “Didn’t know you was famous, did you, Marshal Long. Longarm. The long arm of the law.”