Read Online Longarm and the Train Robbers by Tabor Evans - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tabor Evans
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"Forgive me for saying so, but you
look very tired. I suppose that you've been working night and
day on that train derailment and robbery."
"Not nights,"
Longarm admitted. "But I was on that train when it went down the
mountainside. It was a miracle that any of us survived because
it was very bad."
"I heard the
locomotive rolled for half a mile."
"Not quite, but
it's there forever. Fortunately, most of the coaches were light
enough that they broke up on the mountainside instead of rolling
all the way to the bottom of the gulch. Ours caught on some
rocks or I wouldn't be here today."
"I can't imagine
anything like that," Earl said. "It must have been a
nightmare."
"It was. There
were no dead children, thank God. But there were some ladies
that died."
Earl's voice shook
with passion. "I hope you find the... murderers who committed
that terrible act."
"I'll find them,"
Longarm vowed. "In fact, I think they might even be in Laramie
right now."
"No!" Earl
whispered, leaning forward with an expression of pure
amazement.
"I mean it. Earl,
I've been a regular customer for three or four years, haven't
I?"
"Oh, yes,
sir!"
"Well, I want you
to keep a sharp eye out for rough men with fast
money."
"This isn't the
kind of a place such men would frequent, Deputy Long."
"We can't be too
sure of that. Sometimes when a man gets a lot of fast money,
they step out of their normal haunts and try to show a little
class."
"I've seen that
happen," Earl admitted. "Usually they've just gotten lucky at
cards. They rarely stay for more than one night as our guest and
they never return."
"That would be the
kind of men I'm looking for. There is one other small
thing."
Earl leaned
forward. "And that is?"
"I found this
cigarette butt in a corral up on the mountain. I can't say for
sure, but I'm confident that it was smoked by one of the train
robbers."
Longarm showed
Earl the unusual cigarette paper. "Have you ever seen anything
like it before?"
Earl did not deign
to touch the cigarette butt, but his eyebrows jerked upward and
when he glanced up at Longarm, his face was animated with
excitement. "That's a British cigarette. It's called Royal
Crown. It's rather expensive, and the tobacco is said to be of
the highest quality. You won't find a working cowboy buying
those cigarettes."
"Where can they be
bought?"
"At certain
tobacco shops. They would be sold at a tobacco shop in Cheyenne,
and there are two tobacconists who sell them in
Denver."
"I see." Longarm
studied the butt. "Look, Earl, if you see anyone smoking these
things, I want to know about it right away."
"We always have a
few guests here who smoke Royal Crown cigarettes. But I'd not
want them to be... accosted."
"I promise I'll be
discreet. They'll likely never even realize I was investigating
their whereabouts on the night that train was
wrecked."
Longarm leaned
forward across the desk. "Earl, you know that I'm not a wealthy
man but that I am generous."
"You have always
been very generous to us. You are one of my favorite guests. I
mean that in all honesty."
Longarm knew that
this was going to cost him thirty or forty dollars, but if the
broken horseshoe proved to be a dead-end trail, this was his only
hope and it was no time to be pinching pennies.
"I'll continue to
be generous," Longarm said, patting Earl's shoulder. "Now, if I
could have a room and a hot bath?"
"At once. At
once!"
Longarm dined in
the hotel that night and he ate very, very well. Buffalo steak,
sourdough bread, fresh trout sauteed in mushrooms, asparagus, and
a peach cobbler with cool, sweet cream. Longarm even allowed
himself to finish off the meal with a good cigar and two glasses
of French brandy.
"I haven't eaten
so well," he confessed to the waiter, "since I was here last.
Compliments to Chef Pierre."
"He knows it is
you, Mr. Long, and so he made everything extra
special."
"He did
indeed."
The waiter beamed,
and Longarm settled
look very tired. I suppose that you've been working night and
day on that train derailment and robbery."
"Not nights,"
Longarm admitted. "But I was on that train when it went down the
mountainside. It was a miracle that any of us survived because
it was very bad."
"I heard the
locomotive rolled for half a mile."
"Not quite, but
it's there forever. Fortunately, most of the coaches were light
enough that they broke up on the mountainside instead of rolling
all the way to the bottom of the gulch. Ours caught on some
rocks or I wouldn't be here today."
"I can't imagine
anything like that," Earl said. "It must have been a
nightmare."
"It was. There
were no dead children, thank God. But there were some ladies
that died."
Earl's voice shook
with passion. "I hope you find the... murderers who committed
that terrible act."
"I'll find them,"
Longarm vowed. "In fact, I think they might even be in Laramie
right now."
"No!" Earl
whispered, leaning forward with an expression of pure
amazement.
"I mean it. Earl,
I've been a regular customer for three or four years, haven't
I?"
"Oh, yes,
sir!"
"Well, I want you
to keep a sharp eye out for rough men with fast
money."
"This isn't the
kind of a place such men would frequent, Deputy Long."
"We can't be too
sure of that. Sometimes when a man gets a lot of fast money,
they step out of their normal haunts and try to show a little
class."
"I've seen that
happen," Earl admitted. "Usually they've just gotten lucky at
cards. They rarely stay for more than one night as our guest and
they never return."
"That would be the
kind of men I'm looking for. There is one other small
thing."
Earl leaned
forward. "And that is?"
"I found this
cigarette butt in a corral up on the mountain. I can't say for
sure, but I'm confident that it was smoked by one of the train
robbers."
Longarm showed
Earl the unusual cigarette paper. "Have you ever seen anything
like it before?"
Earl did not deign
to touch the cigarette butt, but his eyebrows jerked upward and
when he glanced up at Longarm, his face was animated with
excitement. "That's a British cigarette. It's called Royal
Crown. It's rather expensive, and the tobacco is said to be of
the highest quality. You won't find a working cowboy buying
those cigarettes."
"Where can they be
bought?"
"At certain
tobacco shops. They would be sold at a tobacco shop in Cheyenne,
and there are two tobacconists who sell them in
Denver."
"I see." Longarm
studied the butt. "Look, Earl, if you see anyone smoking these
things, I want to know about it right away."
"We always have a
few guests here who smoke Royal Crown cigarettes. But I'd not
want them to be... accosted."
"I promise I'll be
discreet. They'll likely never even realize I was investigating
their whereabouts on the night that train was
wrecked."
Longarm leaned
forward across the desk. "Earl, you know that I'm not a wealthy
man but that I am generous."
"You have always
been very generous to us. You are one of my favorite guests. I
mean that in all honesty."
Longarm knew that
this was going to cost him thirty or forty dollars, but if the
broken horseshoe proved to be a dead-end trail, this was his only
hope and it was no time to be pinching pennies.
"I'll continue to
be generous," Longarm said, patting Earl's shoulder. "Now, if I
could have a room and a hot bath?"
"At once. At
once!"
Longarm dined in
the hotel that night and he ate very, very well. Buffalo steak,
sourdough bread, fresh trout sauteed in mushrooms, asparagus, and
a peach cobbler with cool, sweet cream. Longarm even allowed
himself to finish off the meal with a good cigar and two glasses
of French brandy.
"I haven't eaten
so well," he confessed to the waiter, "since I was here last.
Compliments to Chef Pierre."
"He knows it is
you, Mr. Long, and so he made everything extra
special."
"He did
indeed."
The waiter beamed,
and Longarm settled
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