Read Online Longarm 245: Longarm and the Vanishing Virgin by Tabor Evans - Free Book Online Page B

didn’t know the answer to that. He would go as far as the job took him. He said, “I’ll see that they get back to you, don’t worry about that.”
    â€œIf you don’t, the fella who owns this place will have the law on you.”
    â€œI am the law, old-timer,” Longarm told him. “U.S. deputy marshal out of Denver.”
    â€œYou don’t say. Well, in that case, I’ll give you the special guv‘mint rate, which is the exact same as ever’body else pays.” The old man named a price. Longarm thought it was a little steep, but he didn’t have time for haggling either.
    â€œDone,” he said. He hefted the McClellan saddle. “I’ve got my own saddle, but I’ll need blankets and harness.”
    â€œI’ll fetch ’em from the tack room. You goin’ to put the hosses over in the hotel corral till you get ready to leave?”
    â€œI’m not staying at the hotel,” Longarm said regretfully. “I’m riding out as soon as I find a store where I can rustle up some supplies.”
    â€œLord, you must be in an all-fired hurry.”
    â€œLet’s just get these horses ready to travel,” suggested Longarm.
    Ten minutes later, the price having been paid and the saddle put on the buckskin mare, Longarm rode out of the stable leading the lineback dun. The old man called after him, “If you’re lookin’ for supplies, go on down the street to Mc-Greevey’s. My brother runs it.”
    â€œMuch obliged,” Longarm told him. Now the old man could go back to his dime novel.
    Longarm had no trouble finding McGreevey’s Emporium, and a short, stout, bald-headed, pink-cheeked man with a high-pitched voice was inside behind the counter. He greeted Longarm by saying, “Howdy, mister. What can I do you for?”
    â€œI’m riding down to Tucumcari. Need supplies for the trip.”
    â€œWell, let’s see, what’ll you need to fix you right up?” The man started gathering up staples, including a small side of bacon and some beans and flour and sugar and salt.
    Longarm said, “Don’t forget the Arbuckle‘s, and throw in a couple of airtights with peaches in ’em. And a couple with tomatoes too.” As long as he was going to be doing some hard riding, he might as well eat good along the way.
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Longarm paid for the supplies and hefted the burlap bags in which the storekeeper placed them. Outside, he tied the bags together and slung them over the back of the dun, which didn’t take kindly to being used as a pack animal. The horse showed his disapproval by twisting his head and nipping at Longarm’s shoulder. Longarm stepped back quickly, just in time to avoid the slashing teeth.
    â€œKeep it up and I’ll introduce that thick skull of yours to the butt of my gun,” Longarm muttered. The dun didn’t seem impressed by the threat, probably with good reason. If Longarm clouted him over the head, it would probably just break the gun butt.
    Longarm swung up into the saddle and followed Raton’s main street until it left the settlement and turned into a southbound road. The trail paralleled the railroad tracks for a couple of miles through a broad valley in the Sangre de Cristos, then forked with one branch continuing to follow the railroad toward Santa Fe while the other veered off to the southeast. That was the stage road to Tucumcari, Longarm knew. He took a firm grip on the reins of the dun that he was leading and heeled the buckskin mare into a fast trot.
    The mountains fell away behind him as he rode over a broad, open plain. That prairie stretched a long way, clear over into the Texas Panhandle until it dropped off at the edge of the Cap Rock. The country Longarm was heading into was pretty much lawless; most of the big ranchers in this part of New Mexico Territory had established themselves by rustling raids over the line into Texas.