Longarm and the Shoshoni silver

Chapter 1

The question was whether Blue Tooth Tanner spoke true or false when he said he wasn't hungry after fifteen hours aboard the westbound Burlington overnight train in the custody of Deputy U.S. Marshal Custis Long of the Denver Federal District.

Lx)ngarm, as he was better known to friend and foe alike, knew just how he felt about the fair grub and genuine Arbuckle coffee they'd be serving up ahead in the dining car most any time now. For they'd both missed dinner back yonder in Chicago Town the previous evening because of all the paperwork it took to transfer a convicted road agent with homicidal tendencies from one court's jurisdiction to a more serious one. And they both had slept past breakfast aboard the train that morning.

Longarm's pocket watch and the way the autumn sun was glsiring down at the monotonous tawny prairie they were crossing were in total agreement that it was time for someone to be sounding the dining car chimes in the corridor outside their stuffy private compartment. Figuring on most any minute now, Longarm rose to his considerable height, even in low-heeled army boots, to see what he could do about his public image before exposing it to the snooty glances of the mostly greenhorn public a good old boy was likely to encounter on a train to Denver, which was getting

mighty fancy since they'd turned the old Cherry Creek gold fields into an official state capital.

Staring morosely at his lean, tanned self in that full-length mirror mounted on the compartment door, Longarm adjusted his limp shoestring tie. They'd made him wear it with a whole damned suit on official visits like this one ever since President Hayes and his Lemonade Lucy had made it to the White House with all those promises to tidy things up after the hell-for-leather Grant Administration.

The suit, of course, was a rough tobacco brown tweed that an active gent could act up in without it showing much. The free-swinging tails of the frock coat kept the Colt .44-40 he still had to pack, cross-draw, along with handcuffs and such, from disturbing dudes unduly in passing. He naturally kept his federal badge, identification, and back-up derringer completely out of sight until such times as he might have call to show them.

Few greenhorns noticed his spurless stovepipe boots under the cuffs of his snugly tailored pants. This far east, the broad-brimmed snuff-brown Stetson he wore telescoped in the High Plains style drew amused or confused glances now and again. But Longarm didn't care. Government regulations called for a hat and tie on duty in town. It didn't say what sort of hat.

Adjusting his Stetson cavalry-style, as if getting ready for an inspection by Miss Lemonade Lucy Hayes in the flesh, Longarm told his prisoner, "I ain't more anxious than yourself to get stared at in the dining car, old son. But this train won't get us into more discreet surroundings this side of sundown, Lord willing and the trestles all stay up. So there's two ways we can work her. Them handcuffs you have on won't attract too much notice if we put a flannel blanket over 'em from my possibles roll, as if you maybe had the ague and needed a lap robe whilst you eat."

"I ain't about to walk the length of this blamed train chained up like some wild beast!" the prisoner shouted.

raising his cuffed wrists to shake both fists at Longarm. "I'd rather starve!"

To which Longarm firmly replied, although not unkindly, "Speak for yourself. I'm hungry as a bitch wolf, and you were a wild beast when you shot that schoolmarm as you tore out of the Castle Rock Post Office."

Tanner said, "Aw, I was only trying to scare folks. I swear I never aimed at that gal coming outten a shop across the way. First time I noticed she was in my line of fire was when she commenced to flop about on the walk!"

Longarm muttered dryly, "It's a caution how folks do that, once they've been gut-shot with a .45. But as I was saying before you reminded me why I'm taking you back to Colorado, there's two ways. Trail bedding ain't all I carry with me in my possibles roll when I figure to be out in the field overnight."

Stretching some, Longarm reached for the McClellan saddle he'd lashed earlier to the baggage rack above his own seat. "My boss. Marshal Billy Vail, makes me tote cruel and unusual punishments along whether I need to use 'em or not. I told you when I picked you up last night I'd as soon just gun any asshole dumb enough to run from me, next to hauling him about chained hand and foot. But fair is fair and you just said you didn't want to traipse up to the dining car with me of your own free will."

Blue Tooth Tanner eyed the massive, brutal leg-irons warily as Longarm turned to face him with them, explaining, "If I was to fit one of these around each of your ankles, with the chain back behind that steel end-brace of your seat, I'd say it would almost be safe to leave you alone in here for, oh, five minutes?"