“Oh, you know half of Grant’s boys, including Grant, were never out-and-out arrested for stealing half the country. I’ll allow the old general, himself, was just a fool who trusted too many old friends after he was President for a while. President Hayes has been taking things back gentle. Just firing or transferring boys caught with their fingers in the till.”
“I know. I’ve only been allowed to arrest half the crooks I’ve run across in my travels. Crooked or honest, politicians like to sweep old scandals under the rug. I reckon stealing from the taxpayers is a trade secret. I’d better have a few more words with the Justice Department on your telegraph, though. Some of what you just told me is interesting as hell.”
Chapter 15
When he was finished at the land office, Longarm went to get his chestnut at the livery near the railroad station. He put off his intended return to the reservation when he spotted a trio of morose-looking but well-dressed Indians, hunkered on the station platform with their backs braced against the wall.
He walked over to them, flashed his federal badge, and asked, “You boys wouldn’t be the Crow policemen from the B.I.A., would you?”
The leader of the trio nodded and said, “I am Constable Dancing Pony. You must be the one who killed the crazy man who killed the man we came here to arrest.”
“I’m sorry you boys came out here for nothing,” Longarm apologized. “Since you’re headed home, can I take it you don’t suspicion any other Ghost Dance activity out at the Blackfoot reservation?”
Dancing Pony shrugged and said, “The Paiute we were after was the only one reported in the territory this summer. We are going to Pine Ridge to talk to Sitting Bull. The Sioux are more interested in Wovoka’s nonsense than the other Plains tribes. The death of Ishiwati seems to have nipped it in the bud, here. That crazy white man did a good job in killing him.”
Longarm asked, “Did you boys by any chance have a look around out there?”
“Of course. The army scout, Jason, led us over to the old homestead where the Ghost Dancer was killed. Some Blackfoot said you had buried the fool. But from what we have been told, he answers the description on our warrant, so the case is closed.”
“Maybe. I’ve got another warrant on a Blackfoot breed named Hunts Alone. He’s said to be hiding out somewhere around here.”
Dancing Pony nodded. “The scout, Jason, told us this. We did not meet every Blackfoot on the reservation. The Crow and Blackfoot are not friends. But those We met seem to be pure-bloods.”
“Did you talk to the Blackfoot policeman, Rain Crow?”
“Yes. He seems a good man, for one of them. He does not have white blood.”
“What made you think I thought he wasn’t a good man?” Longarm asked, frowning.
“He is one of your suspects, isn’t he? If I had been in your place the night the Ghost Dancer was killed, I would have said Rain Crow did it.”
“He told you about the way the signs read, huh? Lucky for Rain Crow the Wendigo turned out to be another man.”
“Yes,” the Crow agreed. “Any other lawman would have arrested Rain Crow for the killing. They told us the crazy man wore straw-filled sacking on his feet. I think that might have hidden his tracks, most places. But I don’t see how he crossed fresh dust without leaving sign. Can you tell me how he did it?”
“No, and since Mendez is dead, he can’t, either.”
Dancing Pony stared thoughtfully into Longarm’s eyes for a long, hard moment. Then he smiled thinly, and said, “You intend to write a few loose ends off, then?”
Longarm ignored what seemed to be a leading question, saying, “You have the power to arrest any Indian for murder, Dancing Pony. Do you intend to take Rain Crow in for some serious questioning in the near future?”
The Indian chuckled and answered, “No. If somebody took advantage of the other murders to get rid of a dangerous troublemaker, even if I could prove it, I don’t think I would want to. If one of our people would only kill that damned Wovoka, before he stirs up more trouble.”
“I see we’re in agreement on some things, then. I’d say that the Wendigo was just one clever son of a bitch, wouldn’t you?”
Dancing Pony studied Longarm for a time before he said, “You have a good heart for a white man. We shall remember your name.” Then he added, “Since the case is closed, will you be leaving with us on the train?”
“Not hardly. I still haven’t caught the man I was sent up here about.” He might have added that he hadn’t really closed the books on the Wendigo, either, but he didn’t. Other lawmen tended to get in the way sometimes, since his own methods were inclined occasionally to bend the rules.
Saying goodbye to the Indians, Longarm got his mount from the livery and rode out to the reservation. As he tethered the chestnut behind the agency, Prudence Lee came out of her own place and motioned him over with a worried look.
Longarm joined her in the shade of her back porch, touched the brim of his Stetson, and said, “Ma’am? You look like you’ve just met up with a spook.”
“Calvin Durler’s out looking for you, with a gun! Thank God you didn’t meet him on the wagon trace!”
“I took a shortcut across the open prairie. What do you mean, a gun?”
“It’s that Nancy! She told him something about you and he’s half out of his head with rage! I only heard the loud parts when they were shouting about it half an hour or so ago, but she seems to have said you, uh you know.”
Longarm swore under his breath and said, “I never. I reckon you must suspicion it too, huh?”
Prudence shook her head emphatically. “No. If I thought she was telling the truth I’d let him shoot you. I told you she was going crazy. What are you going to do about it?”
Longarm shrugged and said, “Nan will have been watching from her back window the same as you, so she knows I’m here. Cal will ride clean into Switchback and they’ll tell him I rode out. We’d best go inside your place.”
“You’re welcome to hide with me, of course, but if I could have a talk with Nan before he gets back-“
“No. I want you where I can keep an eye on you. I’ve run into crazy-jealous husbands before, and there’s only one way you can handle them.”
“Good heavens! You don’t mean to kill the poor boy!”
“Not if I can keep him from killing me some other way.”
“Oh, my God, I shouldn’t have told you! I can’t have a dead man on my conscience!” Prudence cried in dismay.
“Well, had you left me in smiling ignorance you might have had two. He’d have had the clean drop on me, and since I don’t take kindly to getting shot, I’d have likely gone down shooting back. Let’s go inside while I study my next move.”
“Can’t you just ride out?” Prudence asked.
“Nope. Ain’t finished hereabouts. Oh, I could hide out for a day or so, but it’d make my job tedious, and in the end, he’d likely catch up with me when I wasn’t set for a showdown. I think it’s best we get it over with as soon as possible.”
He led her inside and started piling furniture against the wall facing the agency next door, saying, “I hope he doesn’t just start shooting through the wall when Nan tells him I’m in here, but you never know. When we see him coming, I want you flat on the floor behind this stuff.”
“Oh, my God, I don’t believe this is happening! I must be having a bad dream! You can’t mean it, Longarm! You can’t just ambush that poor boy like this!”
“Miss Prudence,” he said, laying a firm hand on her shoulder, “I ain’t all that happy about it myself. You do as I say and I’ll do what I have to. He’ll be coming back before the sun sinks enough to matter.”
Longarm was right. It was an hour before sunset when Calvin Durler rode in at a lope, his pony lathered and his face red with rage. He swung out of the saddle with a double-barreled shotgun in his free hand and ran into his own house, shouting.