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Authors: Tabor Evans
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mollified
by this response, Cotton relaxed. "How can I help you, Deputy?
I don't like other lawmen nosin' around in my town, but we are in
the same line of work and we have to help each other."
"That's the way I
see it."
"So what do you
know?" Cotton asked point-blank.
"Not a damn
thing," Longarm said. "I followed the outlaws to Laramie
and-"
Cotton's double
chins sagged. "They rode into my town?"
"Yes."
"How many?" Cotton
exclaimed, almost falling out of his desk chair.
"I couldn't
exactly say." Longarm frowned. "Somewhere between six and a
dozen would be my guess."
"I'd have noticed
them if they came here."
"They came in one
and two at a time to avoid your notice," Longarm explained,
saying what should have been obvious. "And for all I know, they
might already have left the same way."
Cotton sighed with
audible relief. "I sure hope so."
"I don't," Longarm
said. "I hope they're here to the last man so that I can track
them down."
"How do you
propose to do that?"
"I'll just keep
looking. And I know you will too."
"But I don't even
know what to look for!" Cotton raised his hands, then let them
fall helplessly to his sides. "You've got to give me something
to work with."
"Look closely at
every stranger," Longarm said. "See if their horses are wearing
local brands or not. Ask them what ranches they are working.
Find out if they're known by people hereabouts or are judged by
the townspeople to be newcomers. And try to see if they've got
any money."
"Cowboys coming
into Laramie always have money to spend."
"Yeah, I'm sure
that they do," Longarm said, "but these boys will have quite a
lot of money."
"How much did they
get?"
"All the U.P.
would say was that there was several thousand dollars cash in
their mail car safe. There may also have been other valuables
and documents. Sheriff, my advice is that, if anyone tries to
cash in jewelry, stocks, or such, let me know."
"I sure will!"
The sheriff licked his lips and wrung his hands. "You know how
poor the pay is for a lawman--especially on the local
level."
"No one forced you
to take the job.
"No one else
wanted the job for fifty dollars a month!" Cotton looked away
for a moment, beat the anger out of his voice, and said, "What's
the reward money like on these train robbers, and particularly
this Eli Wheat fella?"
"It's not been
posted yet, but I imagine there is already at least a hundred
dollar reward posted on Eli."
"Well, I'll sure
be on the lookout for them," the sheriff said brightly. "And we
should keep in close touch."
"I'll stop by at
least once a day," Longarm said, though he knew that this sheriff
would be pumping him for information and not gather a shred of
his own. "I'm staying at the Outpost Hotel."
"Nice place! Best
in town. I eat in their dining room on every payday." The
sheriff dredged up a sad and slightly hopeful smile. "That's
only once a month, but to tell you the truth, I'd give anything
to eat there more often."
Longarm ignored
the thinly veiled hint at a free meal and headed out the door.
"I'm sure they like having you just as often as possible, Sheriff
Cotton."
He checked into
the Outpost Hotel, which mostly catered to the big game hunters
that came to the West to kill trophy-sized buffalo, elk, moose,
and grizzly bear. The Outpost Hotel was the finest establishment
in Laramie, and beyond the means of a federal officer, but
Longarm was dirty and tired, had spent too much time on the
trail, and was in no mood to save the government money. Besides,
the Outpost would send his expense vouchers into Marshal Vail's
office, allowing Longarm to hang onto his travel expense money in
case of an emergency. That was why he stayed there whenever he
was passing through town.
"Hello, Deputy
Long," the tall, elegant proprietor said with genuine warmth.
"Welcome back!"
"Thank you, Earl.
I just wish that the circumstances weren't so grim."
Earl pushed the
register book at Longarm.
by this response, Cotton relaxed. "How can I help you, Deputy?
I don't like other lawmen nosin' around in my town, but we are in
the same line of work and we have to help each other."
"That's the way I
see it."
"So what do you
know?" Cotton asked point-blank.
"Not a damn
thing," Longarm said. "I followed the outlaws to Laramie
and-"
Cotton's double
chins sagged. "They rode into my town?"
"Yes."
"How many?" Cotton
exclaimed, almost falling out of his desk chair.
"I couldn't
exactly say." Longarm frowned. "Somewhere between six and a
dozen would be my guess."
"I'd have noticed
them if they came here."
"They came in one
and two at a time to avoid your notice," Longarm explained,
saying what should have been obvious. "And for all I know, they
might already have left the same way."
Cotton sighed with
audible relief. "I sure hope so."
"I don't," Longarm
said. "I hope they're here to the last man so that I can track
them down."
"How do you
propose to do that?"
"I'll just keep
looking. And I know you will too."
"But I don't even
know what to look for!" Cotton raised his hands, then let them
fall helplessly to his sides. "You've got to give me something
to work with."
"Look closely at
every stranger," Longarm said. "See if their horses are wearing
local brands or not. Ask them what ranches they are working.
Find out if they're known by people hereabouts or are judged by
the townspeople to be newcomers. And try to see if they've got
any money."
"Cowboys coming
into Laramie always have money to spend."
"Yeah, I'm sure
that they do," Longarm said, "but these boys will have quite a
lot of money."
"How much did they
get?"
"All the U.P.
would say was that there was several thousand dollars cash in
their mail car safe. There may also have been other valuables
and documents. Sheriff, my advice is that, if anyone tries to
cash in jewelry, stocks, or such, let me know."
"I sure will!"
The sheriff licked his lips and wrung his hands. "You know how
poor the pay is for a lawman--especially on the local
level."
"No one forced you
to take the job.
"No one else
wanted the job for fifty dollars a month!" Cotton looked away
for a moment, beat the anger out of his voice, and said, "What's
the reward money like on these train robbers, and particularly
this Eli Wheat fella?"
"It's not been
posted yet, but I imagine there is already at least a hundred
dollar reward posted on Eli."
"Well, I'll sure
be on the lookout for them," the sheriff said brightly. "And we
should keep in close touch."
"I'll stop by at
least once a day," Longarm said, though he knew that this sheriff
would be pumping him for information and not gather a shred of
his own. "I'm staying at the Outpost Hotel."
"Nice place! Best
in town. I eat in their dining room on every payday." The
sheriff dredged up a sad and slightly hopeful smile. "That's
only once a month, but to tell you the truth, I'd give anything
to eat there more often."
Longarm ignored
the thinly veiled hint at a free meal and headed out the door.
"I'm sure they like having you just as often as possible, Sheriff
Cotton."
He checked into
the Outpost Hotel, which mostly catered to the big game hunters
that came to the West to kill trophy-sized buffalo, elk, moose,
and grizzly bear. The Outpost Hotel was the finest establishment
in Laramie, and beyond the means of a federal officer, but
Longarm was dirty and tired, had spent too much time on the
trail, and was in no mood to save the government money. Besides,
the Outpost would send his expense vouchers into Marshal Vail's
office, allowing Longarm to hang onto his travel expense money in
case of an emergency. That was why he stayed there whenever he
was passing through town.
"Hello, Deputy
Long," the tall, elegant proprietor said with genuine warmth.
"Welcome back!"
"Thank you, Earl.
I just wish that the circumstances weren't so grim."
Earl pushed the
register book at Longarm.
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