He stood over the man. Home was finished, all right. Longarm uncocked his revolver and shoved it in his holster. He looked around. The man’s horse should be nearby. He walked a few yards into a mesquite thicket and saw a horse tied just ahead. Home had done just as he’d thought, left him clear sign in the sandy tract and then ridden off into the weeds and rocks and doubled back to a bushwhacking position. His only mistake had been he’d used a revolver instead of a rifle, and then he’d had the bad luck of Longarm’s horse spooking when it did. Although on recollection, Longarm wasn’t so sure it was luck at all. In the dim recesses of his mind he seemed to remember hearing a horse neigh just before his own horse had reacted. His horse hadn’t spooked so much as he’d tried to turn to see the horse that was calling to him. Home’s mistake had been tying his horse so close. Well, Longarm thought, all in all he wasn’t a very smart bandit.
Longarm untied the animal and led him over to where Home’s body lay.
The smell of the blood made the horse nervous, but Longarm quieted him and tied him to a bush near the body. But before he loaded Home back across his horse, he took a moment to go through both sides of Home’s saddlebags. In one he found a leather wallet that had G.W. stamped on the front. He unfolded it and found quite a lot of currency. At least more than one would expect to find in the wallet of a man like Home. There were some gold coins totaling about a hundred dollars, and nearly three times that much in paper currency. But what was of the most interest to Longarm was three checks made out to the County Line Auction Barn and signed by men he didn’t know. One was marked for “six heifers” and was for $178. Another was for $98 and was noted to be for a “saddle horse.” The third was for $226 and bore no legend as to what it had been written for. Longarm had no doubt that the checks had been stolen the day before from the auction barn. Ownsby had been particularly aggrieved that the robbers had taken checks as well as the cash. He’d said, “Hell, I can understand them taking the cash, but they scooped up the checks that folks had paid for their stock with. The checks ain’t a peck of good to them damn robbers, because they are made out to the auction barn. They couldn’t cash them at any bank in the country.
But they was still of value to me. Must have been a thousand dollars worth, and that was money I could have put to use. Hell, just because they are crooked don’t mean they have to be ignorant as well.”
Longarm put the wallet in his own saddlebags. He would consider all the money, especially the checks, as the property of the auction barn. He reckoned that Ownsby and his wife would be glad to get that much back at least.
Finally he addressed himself to the task of getting Home up and across his saddle. Home wasn’t a particularly big man, but he was deadweight.
It was with an effort that he got the man across his saddle, belly down, his hands hanging on one side, his boots on the other. Longarm had some cords in his saddlebag, and he used several lengths to tie the body securely in place. Home’s horse was still acting up, looking wall-eyed and jumping around, but Longarm calmed him and the animal gradually settled down.
He caught his own horse up, rode over to where Home’s horse was, caught up the reins, and started back toward the river. He was not sure if he should go by Hannah’s or not. It seemed a little awkward to come by bearing her dead husband, but he wanted to make sure he had the right man. He calculated he’d hide Home and his horse, go in and talk to Hannah, and if it was all right with her, get her to identify the body.
But as he came down to the river, leading Home and his horse, he saw Hannah come out the front door of her cabin and wave at him and call out. He stopped the horses in midstream and said, in a loud voice, for her to go back in the cabin. “Hannah, I got a dead body back there on that horse. You might not ought to get too close.”
But instead of retreating, she walked down toward the river. “Is it Gus Home?”
He grimaced. “I think so. I was going to get you to take a look. That is, if you wasn’t too upset.”
“Naw. I’m fine. Bring him right on up here. Hell, I don’t even know the man. He don’t mean nothing to me.”
Somewhat reluctantly Longarm urged his horse forward, cleared the river, and stepped out onto the ground in front of the cabin. Hannah was still about forty yards off. She waited while he rode slowly to her. When she was still ten yards distant, he stopped his horse and dismounted. As she started forward, he put up his hand and stopped her.
He said, “I didn’t want to kill him, Hannah. He got in the first shot. Bullet hit my saddlehorn as you can see. I didn’t have much chance to do other than what I did.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know anything about such matters. Bring him on up here.”
Silently he led both horses forward and then stopped. With Hannah following him he went back to the trailing horse, took Gus Home by the hair, and lifted his head so Hannah could see him clearly. Longarm said, “Well?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that be the man I married.”
“Gus Home?” He was still bothered by the G.W. stamped on the wallet.
She shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know what his name really was. That was the one he give. But my sisters say a lot of them bandits got two or three names.”
Longarm looked at her closely. “You ain’t the least bit sorry he is dead?”
She laughed girlishly. “Gonna make Paw happy. Means he can sell me again. I guess this makes me a widow, huh?”
Longarm shook his head in some amazement. “Yeah, I reckon you could say that.”
She smoothed the front of her dress and looked up at Longarm. Her voice was a little husky when she said, “I’m mighty glad you didn’t get hurt none.”
“So am I,” he said.
She said, “You about ready to come in now? Now that you’ve got your work done?”
It took him so off balance he didn’t know what to say for a moment. Finally he stammered out something about taking the body into town.
She gave him an innocent look. “Why?”
“Why?” He didn’t know what to say. He finally replied, “Hannah, there are laws. I have just killed this man. I’ve got to get him into the undertaker’s office and notify the authorities. It’s the law.”
“But you’re the law.”
“Look here, I need to get this man into town and get a tintype made of him. I assume this here town has got a photographer’s shop?”
“I reckon. But you promised me you’d show up for supper yesterday and you never come.”
“Hannah, honey…” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t you reckon I was dying to do just that? But that gang held up the auction barn yesterday and I had to go out there. By the time I was finished it was good and late.” He started to tell her about Bodenheimer, but decided to hold his tongue. “Didn’t you hear about the auction barn? That it was robbed?”
She shook her head. “Naw, I never hear anything out here ‘less somebody comes by. But I wouldn’t have cared nohow. All I cared about was you showing me what you said you would. That’s why I don’t want you going off now.”
“But Hannah, I got to. I want to get a picture of this man and show it around. There’s a chance he ain’t even Gus Home.”
“I reckon I ought to know if it is Gus Home or not. Hell, I married him, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but men have been known to change their names. Outlaws especially. You just said so. I need to get this body on into town.”
She stamped her foot. “Now Marshal, you tie them horses up over there in the shade of them chinaberry trees and come on in the house.”
Longarm took off his hat and wiped his brow with his forearm. For lack of something better to say, he said, “Hell, Hannah, it’s Sunday.”