"I don't think so," Longarm said, pushing past the clerk.
"Hey, you can't go in there!"
But Longarm was already "in there," pushing open the door to the private office, and surprising Martha and two older men.
"Custis!"
"I apologize for this sudden and unannounced interruption," Longarm said, "but I'm about to leave Cheyenne. Martha, I thought I ought to say good-bye."
Martha's smile died and she jumped to her feet. "You're leaving so soon?"
"I need to get on the outlaws' trail," Longarm said. "If it snows again, the tracks are lost. Every hour I delay is an hour that it will be tough to make up."
"Any idea where they might have gone?" one of the well-dressed men asked.
"No," Longarm admitted. "They seem to have the ability to vanish into thin air. They might even have dispersed in all directions. Today, given the telegraph and so many law enforcement agencies, a really smart gang comes together only when they have a stage or a train to rob."
"That would make it tough to apprehend them," the other lawyer said.
"Damned tough," Longarm agreed, not able to take his eyes off Martha, who looked beautiful and very competent in a black pleated skirt and white silk blouse.
Martha took his arm. "Gentlemen, you must excuse me for a few minutes while I say good-bye to my friend."
The lawyers did not look pleased, but nodded in agreement. "We'll be waiting, Miss Noble."
"It'll only be a moment," she replied, leading Longarm out of their office.
Once they were out on the board sidewalk, Martha slipped her arms around Longarm's waist. Tears made her eyes glisten. "It just occurred to me that I may never see you again."
"I swear that I'll return."
Her lower lip trembled. "But not to take that job or to get married."
"I can't say what I'll do for the future, Martha. All I know for sure is that I've already got a big job to do."
"You don't know anything about this bunch and you don't even know how many there are."
"I'll know more when I pick up their trail," he said. "A lot more."
Martha laid her head against his chest. "I'm scared for you, Custis. What if you get killed?"
"Then your life goes on just as it did before we met two days ago."
"It seems like we've known each other for years. I can't imagine not having known you."
Longarm hugged her tightly. "Martha, I have to go now. Stretching out a good-bye never does any good."
She released him and stepped back. "I've told Mr. Evans and Mr. Black that they can either buy me out of their partnership or bring me into the firm that my father founded as an equal partner. It seems that they're having a very difficult time with that decision, but I'm sure that they will make the right choice. You see, they both have suffered investment losses and don't have much cash on hand."
"I wish you a good start on your new life," Longarm said before kissing her and then turning on his heel and marching on down the boardwalk.
"I'll be waiting for you!" she called.
When Longarm reached the telegraph office, there was a telegram from his boss that read: GET THE BASTARDS DEAD OR ALIVE. Billy had also wired a check for two hundred dollars, which told Longarm better than words that he was supposed to stay out on the trail no matter how long it took to bring Eli Wheat and the train-robbing gang to justice.
"Your boss sounds pretty upset," the telegraph operator said. "I never got a telegraph like that before."
"Marshal Vail means business, all right," Longarm agreed.
A few minutes later he collected the cash at the bank, and then went to collect his horse. It was nearly noon before Longarm was ready to ride.
"I hope you shoot them," Bob said as Longarm mounted the sorrel. "I hope you kill every last one."
"My job is to take them alive, if possible, and bring them to trial."
"If you do that," the liveryman said, "I'll come down to Denver to watch them dance on the gallows."
"You'd be welcome," Longarm said as he reined his horse west and put it into a gallop toward the nearby Laramie Mountains.
It was late afternoon and the snow was almost gone when Longarm rode the tough sorrel gelding up to the site of the train wreck. Union Pacific crews were everywhere cleaning up debris and searching for more bodies. Jim Allen saw Longarm, and came over to greet him.
"More bodies?" Longarm asked.
"Two. I think we have them all now. It's a wonder that everyone wasn't killed."
"Yeah." Longarm glanced up the line toward the summit. "Did you see any sign of an explosion?"
"I haven't had time to look. All my attention has been down the side of this mountain. That big locomotive will rest in that gulch forever."
"Let's take a look up the track and see if we can find out why it derailed," Longarm said, reining up-slope.
He rode about two hundred yards back up the track, and dismounted to stare at the great pit where dynamite had exploded to twist the tracks like hairpins.
"Holy cow!" Allen said, catching up. "They must have used a barrel of dynamite."
"nat's right," Longarm said. "They weren't scrimping, that's for sure. And they brought a wagon along to carry off whatever they could find, including the safe in the mail car in case they couldn't blast it open."
"At least it should be easy tracking them," the railroad supervisor offered hopefully.
Longarm handed the sorrel's reins to Allen and began to study the signs. He saw boot marks and cigarette butts and plenty of horse tracks just up-slope and behind a pile of rocks.
"They didn't need to hide, but they must have been trying to get out of the weather as they waited for the train."
"I wish they'd have frozen solid," Allen spat out.
Longarm spent another fifteen minutes studying signs. There wasn't a lot to see because the snow had covered the ground, then melted, leaving everything indistinct. He wasn't even sure how many men had been involved.
"You find anything real important?" Allen asked.
"Afraid not."
"Too bad. Looks like they had a wagon that should be plenty easy to follow."
Longarm's eyes followed the wagon tracks. He was very sure that he would find the wagon abandoned somewhere up in the mountains. Furthermore, he was expecting that the tracks of the horsemen he followed would splinter into small groups.
"I've got about an hour of daylight left is all," Longarm said. "Best make use of it."
"Good luck, Deputy. I wish there was something that I could do to help you. There must be more lawmen coming."
"I prefer to work alone," Longarm said. "But you can bet that railroad detectives, Pinkerton agents, and other federal marshals are on their way. Thing of it is, I was on that train and it was my prisoner that escaped."
"Yeah," Allen said. "And it was my men and passengers that died."
Longarm tugged his Stetson low over his eyes and rode on, following the wagon and its tracks. The gang of train robbers was smart enough to travel single file in front of the wagon and its team of horses so that it was impossible to read how many there were. However, Longarm thought that he was following at least a half dozen--and perhaps many more. If there was any good news at all, it was that so many men would attract attention and be remembered by anyone who saw them--anyone, that is, who lived to report a sighting.
CHAPTER 5
As sundown fired the western sky, Longarm crested the backbone of the Laramie Mountains and began to search for a campsite. There was a cold wind sweeping through the pines, and Longarm sought a heavy stand of timber to cut the wind. At least, he thought, there was no sign of another storm on the horizon. If there had been, Longarm would have pushed on by starlight, following the tracks all night if possible.
To Longarm's surprise, the outlaws' trail led to an old, abandoned cabin where the train robbers had spent their first night. In addition to the cabin, there was a sturdy pole corral. Before penning his weary sorrel, Longarm once again searched for any bit of knowledge that would serve him in the future. The buckboard used by the gang had been left behind and it held no clues.