Youll stay right here, Henry snapped forcefully. You shall keep this key open regardless.
Yes, sir, the operator said with a weary sigh.
And I shall wait until morning to write out my answer. Perhaps by then we will have heard something from Thunderbird Canyon.
Yes, sir, the operator said with absolutely no belief in his voice.
If anything does come in
Ill find you. the operator said in a bored tone.
Right. Henry snapped the brim of his derby, spun on his heels, and marched back out onto the street feeling much better now than he had earlier.
Longarm and Smiley and Dutch should be here soon. Already he was feeling less alone.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Longarm shivered and cursed. The damned game trail went somewhere, all right. It led to a rock slide that had swept the whole damned thing away.
There was a gap of thirty or forty feet between the part of the trail he was on and the place where the trail resumed on the other side of the break. The trail was clearly visible in the moonlight. There just was no way to get to it from here. The trail carved by generations of wild sheep and goats had been wiped completely out by the rock slide.
Longarm stood and peered up and down the mountainside. There was no sight of the gunman he had been chasing, and in both directions the mountainside was barren except for loose scree. There was no place the man could have hidden. There was no way he could have gotten across the treacherously loose rock left in the wake of the slide. He was not up here.
With some more muttered cussing, Longarm turned and began retracing his steps along the abandoned game trail. He had been climbing the trail more than an hour, but he had had to move with slow caution then on the assumption that the gunman was somewhere just ahead of him. Now he hurried, trying to get back down to the ledge before the man realized that Longarm was no longer behind him and tried to double back to the safety of the town where he could lose himself in the crowd.
Longarm had never gotten a look at the son of a bitch. The man could stand next to him at a bar and Longarm would never know it. Not if the fellow reached Thunderbird Canyon.
Longarm stretched out his strides, moving as fast as he dared on the narrow trail, now and then dislodging a stone that went tumbling over the lip and clattering down the mountainside. There was no help for that, though. He had to hurry or risk losing the man.
He reached the place where the trail and ledge met in little better than half an hour. Without hesitation he turned onto the ledge in the direction he had originally been following. If he had missed the gunmanif the man had already realized that he was free to head back to town there was nothing Longarm could do about it now.
The only chance Longarm had to catch him was the hope that the gunman was still somewhere ahead of him on the ledge or wherever it led.
Very far ahead of him.
Or free and laughing behind him.
Bitter at the thought of his own miscalculation, Longarm hurried on.
Chapter Thirty-Six
You sure look like shit this morning, Marshal, young Frye said. Longarm met him at the courthouse steps as the local deputy was coming outside.
Im entitled to look like shit, Charlie. I had quite a night, and I feel like shit too.
Frye grinned, obviously unaware of the previous nights excitement. Say, Marshal, you didnt bust the window in the jail, did you?
Longarm glared at him. No damnit, I did not break your window.
I was just asking. Jeez. No need to get touchy about it. I mean, I asked that fella in the cell, but he couldnt tell me nothing.
Potter?
Frye shrugged. Yeah, I guess thats his name. You know, the dummy.
Hes still in his cell?
Sure. I was just up there. I was going to get his breakfast now. You want me to bring you something too?
Please. And, Charlie?
Yeah, Marshal.
Im sorry if I snapped at you. Its just that Ive been hiking up in the damn mountains all night long, and I expect Im feeling kinda bearish now.
Frye gave him an uncomprehending look, and Longarm realized there was no point in pursuing his frustrations with the youngster Look. I appreciate your offer of that breakfast. I really do. Thanks.
Sure thing, Marshal. Ill have em sent right up. One for you an one for the prisoner. He turned and walked toward the business district.
At least that was one thing that had gone all right. He didnt have to go hunt for Donald James Potter again.
Longarm felt of his chin. He needed a shave, but tired as he was after hunting through the mountains the entire night he would likely cut his own damn throat if he tried to shave before he got some rest. And it would take a little while before the breakfasts were delivered. While he was waiting he could see if there was any response yet from Billy Vail.
He walked down to the railroad depot. The platform was deserted, but some workmen from the mines were hauling crushed ore down ready for processing for shipment. The hoppers were full already after missing only a single days shipping schedule. Soon the owners and managers at the mines would be squawking about that.
The telegraph operator was at his desk. His work went on regardless of what the mines and the railroad might do, Longarm realized.
Good morning, Longarm said in as civil a greeting as he could manage.
Nothing good about it, the operator said. He looked like he too had had a rough night, although probably his would have been in the pursuit of pleasure instead of a sneak with a rifle.
If you say so, Longarm said with a grin. The telegraph operators eyes were so red and puffy that the sight of the man almost made Longarm feel fresh just from the comparison. On the other hand, Longarm hadnt had a chance to look in a mirror. Maybe he looked as bad, heaven forbid.
Something I can do for you, Marshal?
I wanted to see if theres been a reply to the telegram I sent yesterday.
Sorry, Marshal. Not a thing for you. Just the usual stuff for the mines.
Okay, thanks.
Longarm turned to leave, but the operator stopped him.
It probably isnt my place to be saying anything, Marshal, but you might wanta know. The county supervisors are getting plenty unhappy about you not letting the train run. That train is awful important to us.
So were those dead men and all that missing money, Longarm said coldly.
Like I said, it probably wasnt my place to speak up anyhow. I just thought you should know.
Yeah. Thanks.
Longarm left the telegraph office with yet another worry. If the mine-owning county supervisors decided to withdraw their declaration of emergency and their request for federal intervention in Thunderbird Canyon, what the hell would his legal position be?
He honestly was not sure if he could stay on the case after that or not. A judge who had six months to study law on a subjectany subjectand a whole damned army of lawyers telling him what he should rule about it, well, there just was never any way of telling what a ruling would come out to be. A deputy in the field didnt have that kind of time or expert help either one. All he could do was what he thought was right. And then half the time see his judgment shot to pieces after the fact. It was a bitch, Longarm thought, any way you looked at it.
Still, a good meal and a few hours of rest would put a better light on things. Assuming the ambusher from the night before kept to himself for a spell, that is.
Lordy, but he didnt think he had ever been on a case before that kept him so ass-dragging tired.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Longarm woke in midaftemoon to a rapping on his hotel room door. He didnt mind. Hell, he was getting used to it. And at least this time hed gotten several hours of solid sleep. Anything over fifteen minutes was beginning to seem a luxury, and there wasnt anything wrong with him now that twenty hours or so of uninterrupted sleep couldnt cure.