Victoria climbed into the saddle, and Longarm released Cyclone's ear and then swung up behind her. He grabbed the reins and then he gave the little bay demon its head. As always, Cyclone took off running like a scalded cat, heading straight south for Wickenburg.

Chapter 8.

By the time that Longarm and Victoria rode double into Wickenburg, the hour was growing late and even Cyclone was stumbling with weariness.

"I'll get us rooms at the Trevor House," Longarm said as he helped Victoria down. "Would you also like me to summon a doctor?"

"Heavens no!"

"Are you sure?" Longarm asked, knowing full well the savagery that Victoria must have endured at the hands of the Ba.s.s gang.

"Yes," she said, straightening her dress. "What I really want is a hot bath, a bottle of cognac, and a good night's sleep. This whole thing has been a nightmare."

"You're going to have to talk about it to someone," Longarm told her. "You have any close lady friends in Wickenburg?"

"I do a and I will." Victoria started to turn away. "And, Custis?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure that Bernard is dead?"

"No. But I would imagine so."

"And he only offered a hundred dollars reward for my safe return?"

Longarm heard the now familiar tremor in Victoria's voice. "I'm sure that he offered much more. Don't dwell on it. I'll ask around about your fiance and, if no one knows his condition, we'll wire Prescott first thing in the morning."

"Thank you. Will you be coming in soon?"

"Yeah," Longarm said. "But first, I need to get some answers of my own."

"About that old prospector friend, Jimmy c.o.x?"

"That's right. And about Hank Ba.s.s. He may have come here after he escaped the canyon last night. I'd say there's a reasonable chance that he might even be found drowning *his sorrows in one of the local watering holes."

"You be very careful."

"I will," Longarm said. "And there's the matter of this money that we found in the cabin. I'm going to put it in the bank tomorrow morning after I deduct some travel money. I'll let someone else sort things out later."

Victoria studied Cyclone. "He really did quite well, you know."

"He's an outlaw," Longarm said. "But I did promise to give him his freedom if he behaved."

"You're turning him loose?"

"d.a.m.n right I am," Longarm said. "Best thing to do before he kills someone."

Longarm did exactly what he'd promised. After leaving Victoria in front of the hotel, he rode the ill-tempered but bighearted Cyclone out to the end of town, unsaddled then unbridled him and set him free. The pony surprised him by not immediately bolting away in a dead run. It turned its ugly head and stared at him in the moonlight, as if asking what would happen next.

"You're free! Get the h.e.l.l out of here and stay away from anything that walks on two legs."

Cyclone snorted and then wheeled about to vanish into the deepening night. Longarm knew that he would never see the little outlaw again and that was just fine.

The saloons were full and roaring. Longarm had always found them to be excellent sources of information. Also, he felt in need of strong spirits, but not too strong just in case he really did run into Hank Ba.s.s. But that would be too easy and, so far, nothing on this trip was turning out easy. What Longarm most wanted to know was the whereabouts of Jimmy c.o.x. And that's why, after tossing his saddle, bridle, and blanket just inside the door of the Sawdust Saloon, he headed straight for the bar and sidled up against a wizened old prospector.

"Evening," Longarm said with a disarming smile. "Can I buy you a drink?"

The prospector eyed him suspiciously. "Now, why in the h.e.l.l would you want to do that?"

"Maybe I don't like to drink alone."

"And maybe you're stuffed full of horses.h.i.t," the prospector said.

"Yeah," Longarm admitted, "maybe some of that too. I'd still like to buy you a drink and take a load off my feet."

"Then buy us a bottle," the old prospector said. "That way, we won't have to keep getting up for refills. And, at the same time, I promise that I'll be the best d.a.m.n listener you ever drank with."

Longarm almost laughed. He ordered a bottle of whiskey and then led the way through the saloon's noisy crowd to an empty table near the back of the room. He took a seat with his back to the wall where he could keep an eye on things.

"My name is Custis," he said, uncorking the bottle, then filling two gla.s.ses.

"Name is Eli," the prospector replied as he raised his gla.s.s. "And I do like whiskey! Even bad whiskey."

Longarm returned the token salute and they emptied their gla.s.ses. The whiskey was dreadful but Longarm managed to keep from choking, although his eyes began to water and it felt like he'd swallowed a shovelful of sulfur.

"Whew!" Eli breathed. "This is sure to take away all a man's woes."

"For a while at least," Longarm agreed. "I take it that you are a prospector."

"Yep. And if you're looking for someone to grubstake, you couldn't do better'n me. I been roamin' around this miserable desert country for almost thirty years. Keepin' one step ahead of the Apache and findin' more'n my fair share of gold."

"Is that a fact?"

"It is!" Eli shouted, vigorously nodding his head up and down. The wrinkled old prospector emptied his gla.s.s, then refilled it to the brim, leaning forward to whisper, "And I have made men smart enough to stake me rich."

"For a fact?" Longarm asked, pretending to look very impressed.

"That's right! And you could be the next."

Eli winked and took a long draft from his gla.s.s. "But I'll be honest with you, there are no guarantees. I might hit another pocket of gold on my first day out a or it could take months."

"I understand." Longarm took another drink. "What about finding me some Spanish gold?"

Eli had started to raise his gla.s.s, but now he thumped it down hard. "Ain't no d.a.m.ned Spanish gold! Are you just another one of them greedy sons a b.i.t.c.hes that read that newspaper article about the old liar, Jimmy c.o.x?"

"I did," Longarm decided to admit. "The article said that Jimmy paid off his debts with Spanish coins."

"So what?!" Eli shouted loud enough to turn heads. "You want to know the truth behind that story?"

"Sure." Longarm poured Eli another two fingers of the awful whiskey and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, Jimmy c.o.x is a friend of mine and a while he's a good man, he's also a terrible liar."

"Is that a fact?"

"It is! He had fallen on real hard times. Couldn't get n.o.body to grubstake him *cause he hadn't found so much as a thimbleful of gold for years. So what does he up and do?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"He concocts this crazy story about finding Spanish gold!"

"But there are plenty of witnesses who say that he paid all his medical bills with Spanish gold coins."

"Yeah, yeah, but a well, I expect he found *em down in Mexico or something and just h.o.a.rded enough of *em over the years so that he could cause a stir." Eli wagged his head back and forth. "It was all a hoax!

And d.a.m.ned if it probably didn't get old Jimmy killed."

Longarm leaned forward over the table. "So you think he's dead?"

"I don't know," Eli admitted. "No one has seen Jimmy for months. But old desert dogs like us can disappear for long periods of time so a well, it's hard to say if he is alive or dead. All I do know for sure is that a lot of greedy sons a b.i.t.c.hes are hunting for him. And, if he was found, then I'm sure they must have tortured Jimmy for the location of that Spanish treasure. He'd either have had to tell them or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else they'd have killed him. I expect that they probably did either way."

Longarm emptied his gla.s.s. "I'm an old friend of Jimmy's," he admitted.

"Sure you are!"

"No, it's true! Jimmy saved my life a few years ago, and I've come to try and return the favor."

"Well," Eli said, "I expect that you are way late. Like I said, Jimmy was havin' hard times, and I believe he just made up the whole story. Could be he even got someone to give him those Spanish coins so they could work the local folks into a frenzy and start another gold rush. That kind of thing does a lot for the local businessmen, you know."

"I see your point," Longarm said, "but it just doesn't sound like the kind of thing that Jimmy c.o.x would do. I mean, his word was his bond. He was a little crazy and difficult to be around sometimes, but he wasn't the kind to pull off that type of complicated hoax."

Eli shrugged. "Then someone else talked him into it. I dunno. But I'll guarantee you it was a hoax and one that I figure backfired and got old Jimmy plugged."

"Help me to find him," Longarm whispered. "Help me to get to the bottom of his disappearance."

"No," Eli said grabbing the bottle and starting to rise. "It's too d.a.m.n dangerous."

Longarm clamped his hand on the prospector's wrist. "I need your help and I'm willing to pay for it."

Eli relaxed, then slumped back down in his chair. "So," he said, "you do have money. What are you, a rancher or someone important?"

"No," Longarm said. "Anyway, the reasons why I want to find Jimmy are good and they don't include murdering him for some Spanish coins. I really do owe the man my life, and I mean to repay him at any cost."

"I need a good grubstake," Eli said. "A real good grubstake."

"Which would cost?"

"About a hundred dollars ought to be enough."

"I've got that much money being wired to me from Denver," Longarm said. "Thing of it is, the money was sent to Prescott and is probably resting in the bank."

"So we can go get it!"

"Maybe," Longarm said, not wishing to go into the business of the Prescott bank's being closed because of a death. Better, he decided, to just use some of the recovered cash he'd gotten before torching the Ba.s.s gang's cabin.

"Listen, Eli, I'll get the money somehow. The thing that's important is that you have some idea of where to start looking for my friend. It's big country out there, and I don't have any time to waste."

"I have a fair idea where he was heading when he left town the last time," Eli admitted.

"Good! Then we can leave tomorrow."

"We can leave when you get your money and grubstake us," Eli corrected. "Tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, it don't matter to me."

"Well," Longarm said, "it matters to me. Jimmy c.o.x may be suffering torture right now."

"Or singing with a harp in heaven or howling in h.e.l.l," Eli added.

"Yeah, that too," Longarm replied. "Tomorrow then?"

"You leavin' me with this bottle still half full?"

"I am," Longarm said. "I'm leaving while I've still got a stomach and I suggest that you do the same."

Eli chuckled. "I been drinkin' this and worse for forty years and I'm healthy as a horse. Guess that I'll finish this bottle."

"I'll get the money and meet you here tomorrow morning," Longarm told the man. "Just be sober enough to buy what we need and leave."

"You got a horse?"

"No."

"Good," Eli said. "We'll walk. Better buy yourself some extra heavy boots."

"No," Longarm said, "you walk if that's your style. I'm buying or renting a horse."

"Suit yourself, but he'll have a d.a.m.ned hard go of it out there on the desert without food nor water."

Longarm scowled. Maybe, he thought, he had better forget about a horse after all. "How far do you think we'll have to go to find Jimmy?"