Read Online Longarm and the Train Robbers by Tabor Evans - Free Book Online

federal officer who might
show them up as incompetent working in their
jurisdiction.
    "Keep an eye out
and feed my horse well," Longarm said, untying his
saddlebags.
    "You can count on
Jimmie," the blacksmith said cheerfully.  "I got the best eyes in
Laramie when it comes to a horse's feet."
    Longarm believed
the man, and he had a hunch that if the horse he sought were
anywhere in Laramie, Jimmie would find it first.

CHAPTER
6
    "Sheriff
Cotton?"
    "At your service,"
the chubby man with a shiny star and boots to match said as he
eased out of his desk chair.  "But most people call me
Ike."
    "I'm Deputy U.S.
Marshal Custis Long.  I'm a federal officer working out of the
Denver office."
    Ike Cotton's smile
dimmed a little.  He sucked in his gut and puffed out his chest. 
"Take a load off your feet, Deputy.  You been in Laramie
long?"
    "No.  I just rode
in.  But I was on the train that was derailed a few days ago and
sent down the mountainside just beyond the summit."
    "I heard all about
that," Cotton said.  "Of course, I couldn't go up there and
investigate.  My own deputy quit--you aren't lookin' for a job,
are you?"
    "No."
    Cotton settled into
his overstuffed desk chair.  He was of average height,
smooth-faced, and flabby.  His hands were delicate, and his thin
blond hair was slicked against his scalp while his mustache was
waxed at the tips. With the benefit of money, Sheriff Cotton
would have been a dandy.
    "Well," Cotton
blustered, "that's too bad.  I could use an experienced deputy. 
One that knows that there is more to being a lawman than just
sitting behind a desk with your feet up in the air."
    "I'm sure you
could," Longarm said drily.
    "So," Cotton said,
buffing his badge with the cuff of his sleeve.  "What exactly can
I do for you?"
    "As you might
imagine," Longarm began, "I'm looking for the men who derailed
and robbed that Union Pacific passenger train.  I have reason to
believe that Eli Wheat--a prisoner I was transporting back to
Denver--was a member of that gang and escaped with
them."
    "Hmmm. 
Interesting.  Unfortunately, I've never met this Wheat fella, but
if you want to give me his description, I'll sure enough keep a
sharp eye peeled for him."
    Longarm was not
impressed.  "It's damned unlikely that Wheat would ride into
Laramie.  He was pretty well known and would be easily recognized
by too many people.  What I am looking for is anyone who has
caught your eye as being a stranger and having a lot of
money."
    "Well," Cotton
said, placing his boots up on his desk and lacing his fingers
behind his head, "as you know, this is a railroad town.  We get a
lot of folks passing through and some of them do have a
considerable amount of money."
    Cotton chuckled,
then winked conspiratorially.  "Money that our local gambling
halls and painted ladies take great pains to extract and invest
in our local economy.  If you know what I mean."
    "I know what you
mean," Longarm replied, deciding that this man was a complete
fool.  "Did you see any strangers enter Laramie in the last day
or two on horseback?"
    Cotton dropped his
folksy facade and put his boots on the floor.  "Now listen here,
Deputy.  Laramie is a damn busy town and I'm a busy man.  There
are no less than fifty big ranches within a hard day's ride, and
all of them are constantly sending cowboys in to raise hell or to
buy supplies.  I couldn't begin to keep my eye on the comings or
goings of all them cowboys and line riders."
    "The men I seek,"
Longarm said, thinking that Jimmie Jeter's assessment of this
incompetent sheriff had been right on the money, "would have been
riding hard-used horses and wouldn't have necessarily had the
look of cowboys."
    "If they were on
horseback, then how would a man know if they were cowboys or
not?"
    Longarm gave up. 
It was clear to him that further conversation with Sheriff Ike
Cotton would be a complete waste of time.  "Well," he said,
coming to his feet, "that's a real good question."
    Slightly