Caldwell asked mildly, "Would you like to send a telegram on my agency wire, Captain? It'll be dark soon. You and your men are welcome to spend the night on my reservation."

Walthers hesitated as Longarm cast an anxious glance at the sky. The d.a.m.ned sun was getting low again. That was the trouble with soldiers. They moved like greenhorns riding snails.

He suddenly brightened and asked, "Hey, Captain? As long as you and your troopers will be riding back to Fort Douglas in the morning, what do you say to helping me transport some prisoners to the Salt Lake railroad depot? From there I'll make connections over the divide and down to Denver, and..."

"What prisoners are you talking about? Are you holding that army deserter after all?"

"No, the one we were all fighting over in Crooked Lance is dead and gone. I'm figuring on arresting the killer of Deputy Kincaid, once I tie up a few loose ends so..."

"You ask the army to help you, after the way you've thwarted me at every turn?"

"Well, it would be neighborly, and we are working for the same government, ain't we?"

"How would you like to flap your wings and lay an egg, Longarm?"

"I thought it was funnier the first time I heard it. Does that mean you won't help me?"

"I'd join the Mexican army first! As soon as my men and their mounts are rested I'm going back to Fort Douglas to file an official complaint, and you-you can go to the devil!"

"I'll tell Marshal Vail you were asking about him. You're leaving me in a bit of a bind, though. Can't deputize these Indians to transport prisoners off the reservation. Yep, it figures to be a ch.o.r.e."

For the first time since riding in, Captain Walthers looked pleased as he asked, "You don't say? My heart bleeds for you, Longarm, but I just can't reach you. I hope you sink, you--never mind. Ladies present."

The captain wheeled and rode off to find a campsite for the night as his troopers followed, some of them grinning and one corporal tipping his hat to the ladies as he swung past.

Kim Stover asked, "What was that about you making some arrests?"

Longarm looked around, as if worried about being overheard before he confided, "I'm going to have to ask a favor, ma'am. Timberline?"

"I'm listening, but I don't feel up to doing favors, either."

"Just listen before you go off half-c.o.c.ked. It's a long, hard ride back to Crooked Lance, the way we've all come. On the other hand, it's an easy downhill ride from here to Salt Lake City."

"What in thunder do I want to go to Salt Lake City for?"

"A ride, of course. Free ride on the railroad back to Bitter Creek, from where you'll be only a spit an' a holler from Crooked Lance. Wouldn't you like to save Miss Kim here, and the others, a long hard ride for home?"

"Maybe, but what's the tricky part?"

"I aim to deputize you as a U.S. Deputy's deputy. You'll get a dollar a day, vittles, and a free ride almost home in exchange for doing nothing much."

Kim Stover's eyes widened as she smiled hopefully.

Cedric Hanks said, "h.e.l.l, why not deputize me? He's only a cowboy, big as he may be! Me and Mabel are professionals!"

"I thought about it," Longarm soothed, "but my boss ain't partial to private detectives since he had a set-to with Allan Pinkerton's Secret Service, during the war. As for your wife, I've never heard of a female working for the government."

Timberline's suspicion had faded to antic.i.p.ation as he asked, "Would I get to wear a badge?"

"Not on temporary duty. As a peace officer, I'm empowered to deputize posses and such, but I won't need more'n one hand to help me herd my suspects in."

Mabel Hanks asked, "Who on earth are you talking about, Longarm? Who are you fixing to arrest?"

"Ain't sure yet," Longarm lied. "We'll work it out come morning, after the troopers and that pesky captain leave."

Longarm didn't spend the night with Dances-Humming. For one thing, he couldn't trust her. For another, he wasn't sure he should take his clothes off. He spent the night in the agency, in a spare room next to Kim Stover's. As he lay across the bed, fully dressed, he could hear the redhead moving about on the other side of the wall. Once he heard her using the chamber pot. It shouldn't have made him think of what it did, but the redhead had a nice shape and it was hard not to picture what he caught himself seeing clearly in his mind.

He knew his boast had been spread around by now. Timberline had strutted off like a rooster, feeling important, most likely. Hungry Calf's young men were watching to see if anyone tried to make a break for it.

They had instructions not to try and stop him/her. The killer-or killers--of Deputy Kincaid and that Missouri lawman were dangerous as h.e.l.l, but wouldn't get far, once they made their play.

He could hear the bedsprings under the woman in the next room. She seemed to be tossing and turning as if she found it hard to fall asleep, too. Longarm lay there, puffing his cheroot and blowing smoke rings at the ceiling as he thought about Kim Stover, mostly to keep awake.

There was a soft tap on his door. Longarm frowned and rolled quietly to his feet. He slid over to the door and asked, "Yeah?"

A man's voice said, "It's Captain Walthers. I'd like a word with you."

Longarm muttered, "s.h.i.t," and opened the door.

The army man didn't come in. He said, "Some of those hands were talking to my troopers by the fire. What's going on here, now?"

"You mean Timberline helping me transport a prisoner or two? You already said you wouldn't do it."

"I don't owe you spit, but I'll admit I'm curious. Do you really have anything nailed down, or are you trying to bluff someone into making a break for it?"

"I owe you an apology. You ain't as dumb as you seem. I didn't think it was possible, anyway."

"I figured you were bluffing. Unless your suspect's awfully dumb, he'll figure it out as well. There's hardly a chance of getting away from here. Anybody can see that. You let the Mountie get away with our prisoner because you weren't expecting it. By now, you'll have your Utes watching every route out of the reservation, won't you?"

More to pa.s.s the time than in any hope of learning anything, Longarm said, "Maybe the one, or ones, I'm after ain't as smart as you and me."

"It's not my mission, but I've put a few things together. Your friend, Kincaid, had worked in Missouri, as had the other missing lawman and the old man who apparently came to help Cotton Younger. That means your man is from Missouri, probably well-known there. He had to kill the three of them because they might have recognized him on sight."

"You aiming to help me, or are we just jawing?"

"Unless you can nail a prisoner with a military charge, I have no authority to help you. Cotton Younger was the only possible member of the James-Younger gang wanted on an army warrant, and thanks to you, his corpse is halfway to Canada by now!"

"You do go by the book, don't you? It's no wonder Cotton Younger deserted your old army. It's gotten chickens.h.i.t as h.e.l.l since I was in the service. 'Course, in those days we were fighting, not lookin' up rules and regulations. It's been nice talking to you, Captain."

He closed the door softly in Walthers's face. While he wanted to annoy the captain, he didn't intend to disturb the lady next door.

He chuckled as he heard the angry boot-heels stamping off. If he couldn't use the infernal soldiers, at least he might get rid of 'em by rawhiding their leader every chance he got.

He sat on the bed and pondered whether to get some sleep or not. The Indians would awaken him if anything important happened. He knew he might have a hard day ahead of him, too.

A tiny beam of light caught his eye. He saw that it came from a c.h.i.n.k in the pine panelling between the rooms. He shrugged. She was likely under the covers, anyway. He lay back and tried to doze, but sleep refused to come. He muttered, "What the h.e.l.l, curious is curious."

He got up and tiptoed to the wall, putting an eye to the peephole. He was almost too late. Kim Stover had just turned from the dressing table and was headed back for the bed, stark naked. Longarm held his breath as she crossed the room and snuffed the light before getting under the quilts. Then he went back to his own bed, grinning. He'd been right as rain. She was red-haired all over.

The army column rode out just after breakfast, taking their own sweet time, as always. Hungry Calf found Longarm eating beans by the pony line and said, "n.o.body left last night. What does my brother think this means?"

"Means I was wrong, or that I'm up against somebody smarter than I figured. Are your young men watching the soldiers?"

"Of course. It is fun to scout them from the rimrock. Just like the old days. Both you and Agent Caldwell said it would be a bad thing to attack them. Could we just frighten them a little?"

"No. I just want to know when they're clean off the reservation and out of my hair. I'd like to have that snoopy captain at least half a day's ride away from me before I make my next move."

"We will do it, but the way you white men do things is very boring. Do you always take so much time to take an enemy at a disadvantage?"

"Some of us do. Lucky for us, your fows never got the hang of it."

"If you know who you're after, why don't you just kill him?"

"Like you said, our ways are boring. I have to be able to prove my suspicions in a court of law. Sometimes, when a bad white man is very clever, he refuses to fight. He just says he didn't do it. Then I have to get twelve other white men to see if he lies."

"Can't you choose these twelve from among your friends?"

"Not supposed to. How long a ride is it to Salt Lake City, maybe with some kicking and fussing along the way?"

"Two days, as white men ride. Maybe three, with trouble. The big town you speak of is sixty, maybe seventy of your miles."

"Good roads?"

"Yes. Wide wagon trace. Plenty water. Easy riding. Just far. Didn't you ride that way, the last time you were here after bad white men?"

"No, took the hard way home. That's how I knew about that hold-out in the oil shale country. With all the folks and the fooling about, I'll figure on a seventy-two hour ride. It's gonna be a tricky b.i.t.c.h, but I'll manage."

Hungry Calf wandered off and Longarm spent the morning trying not to go out of his head from inaction. By noon, more than one of the people in White Sticks had pestered him for an idea of when he intended, for G.o.d's sake, to do something.

A little past noon he wandered over to the crowd around the cold campfire. His scouts had told him the army troops were long gone, and he saw that Kim Stover had joined her Crooked Lance friends, along with the Hankses and Timberline.

He moved into position, took a deep breath, and let half of it out as he said flatly, "Cedric Hanks and Mabel Hanks, you are under arrest. Anything you say may be used as evidence against you."

Everyone looked more than startled, but the midget leaped to his feet as if he were about to have a running fit. Mabel started to reach under her duster as Longarm's.44 came out. "Don't do it, Mabel. I'd hate to gun a lady."

Cedric gasped, "Longarm, have you been drinking, or were you always crazy? You are reaching for straws! We ain't done a thing you can fine us ten dollars for!"

The others were on their feet now, moving to either side as the little detective danced in front of Longarm, protesting his innocence.

Longarm said, "Deputy Timberline, disarm them prisoners."

The big ramrod turned and started to do so. "Hot d.a.m.n! But what are we arresting 'em for, pardner?"

"The murder of Deputy Kincaid is enough to hang 'em. We'll get the details of the other killings out of 'em in the Salt Lake City jail!"

Cedric Hanks pointed a pudgy finger at his wife and blurted, "It was her that took that shot at you in Bitter Creek, G.o.d d.a.m.n it! But we were only trying to scare you."

Mabel gasped and said, "It was his idea! I only wanted to be friendly, remember?"

"I remember it fondly, Mabel. You ware them same high heels when you smoked up the law office in Bitter Creek that night. A.30-30 is a light as well as an accurate weapon, too. I'll allow you made good time, beating me back to the hotel like that. Then you and Cedric made up that fool story about someone running down the hall when I caught him trying to sneak in for another try at me."

"Longarm, you know I had my head against that panel while you were..."

"Watch it. There are ladies present and you're talking about your wife."

"Hang it, I couldn't have overheard what I overheard unless..."

"You had your head next to my keyhole. Where did you folks bury Kincaid and the other lawman, Hanks?"

"Bury? We never laid eyes on either. We was in Bitter Creek 'til after you reached Crooked Lance. h.e.l.l, we met you on the train, halfway to Cheyenne!"

"So what? It's a short run and the trains run both ways from Bitter Creek. You were laying for me. Just like you laid for them others sent for Cotton Younger!"

"h.e.l.l, there was a whole mess of you sent! You think we'd have been dumb enough to try and stop you all?"

"No, just the smart ones. You used me to do what you aimed to do all along. I'll allow you got me to spring your friend from the Crooked Lance jail. Or if that wasn't it, you were trying to get one more lawman out of the way. We'll settle the details when we carry you before the judge."

"Longarm, you don't have a thing on us but hard feelings for some past misunderstandings. h.e.l.l, you don't even have no bodies to show that judge!"

Longarm chuckled and said, "Sure I do. I got both of yours. You mind your manners, and I'll try to deliver 'em both alive!"

CHAPTER 23.

"I feel sorry for the poor thing," Kim Stover said as she sat by Longarm on a log, a day's ride from Ouray Reservation. They'd made camp for the night at a natural clearing near a running brook of purring snow-melt from the Wasatch Mountains. The hands had built a roaring white man's fire of fallen, wind-cured timber, and the Hankses were across from Longarm and Kim Stover. The midget's left hand was handcuffed to his partner's right, for the female of the species in this instance was likely deadlier than the male.

Longarm chewed his unlit cheroot as he studied his new prisoners across the way. Then he shrugged and said, "n.o.body asked her to marry up with the little varmint, ma'am."

"Oh, I'm not feeling sorry for her! It's the poor little midget she's obviously led into a life of crime."

"n.o.body gets led into a life of crime, ma'am. Though most everyone I meet in my line of work seems to think so. Folks like to shift the guilt to others, but it won't wash. The man who murdered Lincoln had a brother who's still a fine, decent man. An actor on the New York stage. I'd say his baby brother led himself astray. Most folks do."

"I can see your job might make you cynical."

"No might about it, ma'am. It purely does!"

"Just the same, I'd say that woman was the cause of it all. She's hard as nails and twice as cold. She's been spitting at you with her eyes all day."

"She's likely riled at me for arresting her and the midget."

"There's more to it than that. A woman understands about these things. I can tell what's pa.s.sed between the two of you!"

"Oh?"