"I guess that I can find it."

"Be better if you didn't, and I can't say for sure that is where they took the woman. But it makes sense. They wouldn't have gone back to Mexico without getting a ransom. From what I hear, they got less than a hundred dollars off the banker before they shot him in the gut."

"I hope he lives," Longarm said.

"Not me. I owe him two hundred dollars."

Longarm didn't have a reply to that remark, so he had Blue hold Cyclone by the bit and then he climbed on, jammed his boots deep in the stirrups, grabbed the saddle horn, and said, "Point him in the right direction and get out of our way."

The moment that Joe Blue released Cyclone, the pony jumped forward and took off like a bat out of h.e.l.l. Longarm didn't release the saddle horn until the pony finally became winded about three miles south of town.

"Well," Longarm said, pulling the horse down to a trot, "I hope that you've run the p.i.s.s and vinegar out of your system and that we can settle down and be friends. If you help me to save Miss Hathaway, I'll turn you loose so that you can run free with mustangs."

Cyclone laid his ears back and Longarm doubted that he understood, but that didn't matter. He was going to keep the Indian pony moving until he reached Ba.s.s's cabin in the trees and, after that, he wouldn't need Cyclone anymore anyway.

Chapter 7.

Longarm had a lot weighing on his mind as he rode southwest in search of Victoria Hathaway and the Ba.s.s gang. He was none too happy about having to ride an outlaw pony and wondered if he would ever get his federal money, which would have been wired and forwarded to Bernard Potter's now shuttered bank.

Oh, well, he would worry about that later. The main thing now was to locate this cabin, sneak in, and then get the drop on Hank Ba.s.s and his bunch of cutthroats. Longarm chided himself for not taking the time to find out more about the Ba.s.s gang. For example, it would have been helpful to know how many men had been in on yesterday's shootings and abduction.

It was almost sundown before he reached a fork in the road and noted a large, lightning-torched tree. Longarm gazed up a narrow, red-rocked canyon. Yes, this was where he ought to find the Ba.s.s gang. They were so brazen that they hadn't even posted a sentry to guard the mouth of the canyon.

Being on the cautious side, Longarm reined the pony into a draw and then dismounted. He tied Cyclone to a tree and then decided to take both the Winchester and the heavy but very intimidating shotgun.

"Cyclone," he warned, "don't even think about whinnying or breaking free."

In answer, Cyclone attempted to take a bite of his shoulder, but Longarm was too quick and managed to jump beyond the range of the pony's snapping teeth.

"Dammit, I may put you out of your misery when this is over," Longarm swore. "You just better hope these outlaws plug me before I plug them."

Longarm felt a little better having given the pony a piece of his mind. He checked his weapons and then began to move toward the canyon, staying low and following a dry wash that would hide his approach. The wash was heavily choked with creosote bushes and sagebrush, and it seemed to lead all the way up into the canyon. Birds flitted through the heavy shrubs, and Longarm almost stepped on a brightly colored Gila monster that opened its big jaws and slowly backed away.

He might not have even seen the guard posted up on the side of the canyon if the man hadn't lit a cigarette just as dusk fell. Longarm dropped flat and gazed up at the sentry. The man was about two hundred yards away and the fool was clearly bored to death. He was just sitting on a rock, gazing out toward the first colors of the sunset. But it would be a climb to reach him, and Longarm knew that plenty could go wrong. If he dislodged a rock, the guard would probably hear it move and then Longarm would be at a serious disadvantage being downslope and out in the open.

There was really no help for it, though. Longarm sleeved sweat from his brow and settled down to wait for complete darkness to shroud the canyon. He stretched out on a big flat rock, leaned his weapons against a bush, and admired the Arizona sunset, thinking that there were few better than the ones you got to enjoy in this southwestern territory. As for any kind of plan to rescue Miss Hathaway, he didn't give it much of a thought. Longarm had found over the years that advance planning in cases where you had no idea what to expect was most generally a waste of mental effort.

The first thing to do was to eliminate the guard up on the canyon wall. After that, he would sneak along the rim of the canyon, locate the cabin, and make his way down to it sometime after midnight when the outlaws were almost certain to be asleep. If all went well, he could get the drop on them and that would be the end of this business. However, even if everything went wrong, he had the huge scattergun; the only thing he had to really worry about was not blowing Miss Hathaway to smithereens along with Hank Ba.s.s and the rest of his gang.

When the sunset finally played out and the sky grew dark, Longarm tugged down his hat, picked up the shotgun and rifle, then started climbing. Every nerve was tingling and he was very careful where he placed his feet, but after about fifteen minutes he stopped and heard snoring.

"Thanks," he said, glancing up at the stars as he relaxed and climbed the rest of the way to the rim. There was plenty of moonlight to see the guard; the man was fast asleep. Longarm set his weapons down, unholstered his gun, and then pistol-whipped the sentry hard enough to make sure that he did not awaken for at least twelve hours.

"Consider yourself the lucky one this night," Longarm said, leaving the unconscious sentry.

He only had to hike about a half mile before he saw a little one-room cabin. The outlaws were sitting outdoors around a blazing campfire. Longarm counted four. He tried but was unable to identify Victoria Hathaway and decided that she might be locked in the cabin.

"So what do you do now?" he asked himself. "Wait until late like you planned, or circle down in behind that cabin and try to sneak inside and rescue the woman? If you could get her out of harm's way, then you'd have a h.e.l.l of a lot less to worry about."

That approach made a lot of sense to Longarm. His main objective was to get the woman to safety. After that, he would deal with the Ba.s.s gang. And frankly, with the old ten-gauge double-barreled shotgun coupled with the all-important element of surprise, Longarm figured the odds were yet in his favor.

He hiked about a mile before finding a good trail that would take him down behind the cabin. Thanks to the moonlight, it wasn't too difficult, and Longarm could plainly hear outlaw laughter. Once, he thought he also heard Victoria's voice crying out from the cabin, but he was not certain until he reached its back wall and then heard her sobs and the l.u.s.ting grunts of one of the outlaws. There was a window but it was caked with dust. Longarm used the sleeve of his coat to rub a little clearing in the window so that he could look inside. A candle flickered but it gave off enough light so that Longarm could see one of the outlaws rutting on top of Victoria. The pig hadn't even bothered to remove his pants but had instead just dragged them down around his boot tops and was now completely lost in his pa.s.sion.

Rage filled Longarm and he moved swiftly around to the corner of the cabin. The campfire was only about thirty feet from the front door, but Longarm knew he had no choice but to try to get inside. Taking a deep breath and knowing that he could not handle both the Winchester and the shotgun at the same time, Longarm placed his rifle down, then slipped around the corner and into the cabin, almost certain that he would have to shoot the outlaw and then fight his way back outside.

The outlaw was still lost in his pa.s.sion. Grunting and thrusting powerfully into poor Victoria, he would not have heard a train had it roared right through the cabin. All that Longarm had to do was walk over to the bed and mash his brains with the heavy b.u.t.t of his shotgun. The man's entire body quivered and stiffened, then he went limp. Longarm knew that he had killed this one and it didn't bother him in the least. He grabbed the man by the back of his dirty shirt and dragged him off Victoria Hathaway, then bent down and clamped his hand over her mouth before she could even think about screaming.

"Victoria," he whispered, "it's me! Marshal Custis Long. Do you understand?"

The young woman was so battered and shaken that she attempted to claw his eyes out. Longarm had quite a struggle before he got her calmed down enough to think straight.

"Victoria, I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning close to her ear. "These dirty sons a b.i.t.c.hes are going to pay for this, I swear they will! But you've got to do as I say or we both may die. There's still four outside."

She began to cry again and hugged his neck with all of her strength. Longarm wanted to comfort her, but there wasn't time. Another outlaw might come in for his turn at any moment.

"Victoria," he said, holding her tight, "what happened here isn't your faulta"it's their's and they're going to pay for it with their lives. But I need you out of harm's way before the shooting starts. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she said in a hushed voice. "Can I kill them too?"

"No. I want you to try and get out of here. If I am killed, there is a trail behind this cabin that leads up to the canyon's rim. Once on top, head down canyon and you'll discover an unconscious guard. Take his weapons and then keep moving as fast as you can. About a mile away, you'll find my pony. Ride him back to Prescott."

"I can't leave you!"

Longarm felt her fingernails bite into his shoulder. "Please! Let me stay and help! I owe them!"

There was so much venom and anger in the woman's voice that Longarm didn't have the heart to deny her wish. "All right. Here," he said, helping Victoria dress before handing her the rifle and saying, "I need to knowa"have you ever fired one of these before?"

"You bet I have!"

"Good. It's loaded and ready for action. Just aim and pull the trigger."

"I'm going to kill Hank Ba.s.s!"

Longarm went back to the cabin door and pushed it open a crack. "Can you point him out for me?"

Victoria would have collapsed on her way to the door if Longarm hadn't caught and supported her. Easing it open a crack, he said, "Which one is he?" She stared for several moments, then said, "I a I don't think that he's out there!"

"Are you sure?"

Victoria looked again. "Yes," she said in a dead voice. "He's not among them."

"Where could he have gone?"

"I don't know. Maybe just to check the horses or relieve himself."

"We'll wait a few minutes," Longarm decided. "I don't want him to come barging in and put a bullet through us."

Victoria sagged against Longarm's chest, and he could feel her shaking. He held her close and smoothed her hair.

"How is Bernard?" she asked when she could get the words out.

"He's a goner," Longarm had to tell her. "The bank is closed and everyone is upset."

Victoria began to cry, so Longarm held her even tighter. "Are you sure you don't want to try and get out of here before the fireworks?"

"No!"

"Then you've got to get a grip on yourself," Longarm told her. "Just as soon as Hank Ba.s.s rejoins those men, we're going to end their little party once and for all. And no matter what, if they won't surrender, I'm going to shoot Ba.s.s first."

But even as Longarm was making this solemn pledge, one of the outlaws came to his feet, glanced at the cabin door, and then rubbed his crotch in a way that caused the others to burst into coa.r.s.e laughter.

"Think I've got another itch for that woman that I'm going to take care of right now!"

Longarm stepped in front of Victoria and his words were deadly. "I don't think so, you raping son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

The man's jaw dropped in amazement, and he was ridiculously slow in making a stab for his gun. Longarm pulled one of the triggers of the shotgun and it exploded like a Civil War cannon. The outlaw with the "itch" was lifted completely off the ground and nearly torn apart by the blast. Longarm shifted the barrels and fired again, and two more of the outlaws were knocked down like wheat in a high wind.

Victoria shot the last one. Her rifle thundered and the man took the bullet in the groin. He screamed, grabbed himself, and then began to writhe around in the dirt. Longarm knew that the man didn't have a chance of surviving the wound. He hurried over to him, knelt on one knee, and shouted, "Where's Ba.s.s?!"

The dying outlaw tried to speak but instead died in a pool of his own blood.

A bullet out of the dark clipped Longarm's rib cage, and he spun around just in time to see a mounted horseman fire again before galloping away.

"That's Hank Ba.s.s!" Victoria cried.

Longarm ran to the corral, and the already spooky horses began to mill about in fear. They could probably smell the gunpowder and blood and a.s.sociated it with past frightening experiences.

"Whoa!" Longarm called.

But the outlaw horses were crazed and nearly trampled Longarm as they bolted through the open gate and went flying down the canyon after Hank Ba.s.s.

"Dammit!" Longarm shouted in angry frustration before getting a hold of himself and realizing that, even though Hank Ba.s.s had escaped, everything had turned out quite well. Hank Ba.s.s might still be free, but now he was alone and on the run.

Longarm dragged the bodies into the cabin and found some blankets. He wrapped Victoria up like a baby and held her close. Neither of them slept a wink, but when the sun finally peeked over the canyon's rim, Longarm was pleased to see that the young woman was composed.

"What are we going to do now?" Victoria asked.

"I'll inspect the cabin for any bounty that they haven't yet spent in Mexico," he replied. "After that, I'll just set the d.a.m.n thing on fire and cremate the lot of them."

"You can do that?"

"There's no law in Prescott that could take over the case, and I doubt that any citizens would want to come clear down here and bury these men out of the kindness of their hearts."

"Yeah," she said, taking Longarm's hand, then gazing up into his eyes and saying, "I thought a lot about you last night, Custis. I owe you my life but a"

Victoria broke down and began to cry, so Longarm put his arms around her awhile until she regained her composure. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Everyone will know what these animals did to me."

"Oh, I don't know if a"

"Yes, they will! And, if there were any doubts, Ba.s.s will brag and tell them."

Longarm supposed she was right. Most everyone would a.s.sume that a pretty young woman abducted by a band of cutthroats and outlaws would most likely be violated in the most unspeakable manner. Imaginations would run wild.

"What am I going to do, Custis?!"

"You're going to have to be very strong," he said, knowing how feeble this advice would sound but unable to think of anything better to say. "You did nothing wrong. If there is sin, it's on their unholy souls, not yours."

She nodded, chin quivering. "But a"

"Victoria," he interrupted, "I don't know you real well, but we became quite close on the train, didn't we?"

"Very close."

"Then my advice would be that, unless you have some compelling reason to remain in Prescott, you should relocate. Just go someplace new and give yourself a little time and s.p.a.ce to heal. Maybe you'll come back, but maybe not. Either way, time will heal."

"You sound like a man who speaks from experience."

"I do," he said, not wishing to elaborate on the many sorrows in his own past.

Victoria was quiet for a time and then she said, "Could we get this over with and leave this evil place?"

"Sure." Longarm left her by their dying campfire and went into the cabin. He searched it thoroughly and did find a big coffee can filled with stolen money and jewelry. Taking it outside, he said, "Hold this while I finish up this foul business."

He went back inside and found matches, then dropped them on the floor and the bed. The straw mattress erupted in flames and Longarm hurried outside. This wasn't being done strictly according to the law book, but there was no reason for an inquest or to waste good taxpayer time and money giving sc.u.m like those inside a proper burial. And if some do-gooder objected, he or she could collect their charred bones and inter them in a grave and have a little ceremony. But they'd do so at their time and expense. When the fire was raging, Longarm took Victoria's arm and they walked slowly back down the canyon. When they reached its mouth, they turned north toward Prescott.

"I almost hope that Hank Ba.s.s spotted my horse," he remarked as they trudged along.

"But why?! If that happened last night, we'll be afoot."

"Yeah," Longarm conceded, "but there is also a fair chance that Cyclone just might have either stomped or bitten him to death."

Victoria looked up at him with a curious expression, so Longarm added, "When you see Cyclone, you'll understand.

"Oh." Victoria said nothing more until they climbed down in a gully and saw that the ugly little pony was still alive and waiting.

"Stand back," Longarm warned, dodging a hoof and then leaping forward to grab Cyclone by the halter and twist his ear until the pony quivered with pain. "Now, get on his back!"

"Are you-"

"Hurry!"