Longarm - Longarm And The Double-Barrel Blowout Part 8

"He'll be within fifty miles, one way or the other."

This news did not comfort Longarm. "All right, Eli. But if you're leading me on a dead-end trail, you're going to be real d.a.m.ned sorry."

The prospector cackled softly as he poured another drink. "Mister," he said, "I've always been sorry. I'll die sorry. Don't matter to me, though, as long as I die rich."

Longarm left the man. He collected his old saddle, blanket, and bridle at the door and visited a couple more saloons, asking if anyone had seen Hank Ba.s.s. No one had, so he wearily returned to his hotel room.

He slept long and well that night. When he awakened, Longarm dressed, shaved, and went to the telegraph office to find out about the condition of Victoria's fiance.

"Mr. Potter died of his gunshot wounds yesterday," the telegraph operator announced. "There's a funeral tomorrow morning in Prescott at ten o'clock."

"I see. Has his bank been reopened?"

"Now that I do not know."

"Thanks." Longarm had a big breakfast and then returned to his hotel to say good-bye to Victoria.

"Will you be back soon?" she asked, looking pale and shaken over the news of Bernard's death.

"I don't know," Longarm replied. "But I will return. I've still got Hank Ba.s.s to catch or kill."

Victoria lifted up on her toes. "You take good care of yourself."

"I'll try," Longarm told her.

"I'll be waiting for you to return, Custis. And a and I'll never be able to repay you for saving me up in that canyon."

Longarm grinned. "It was my pleasure. Just wish we could have made it a clean sweep. You take care, now."

"Sure," she replied.

Longarm left Victoria and went to hunt up Eli. He figured that his best chance of finding the old prospector was in the saloon where he'd left the man last night, and so that was where he began his search. But Eli wasn't there nor was he in any of the other saloons.

Longarm went hunting in the hotels and even the livery, but Eli was nowhere to be found. At least, not until he heard a man shout and emerge from an alley yelling, "Old Eli is dead! Someone cut his throat!"

Longarm bolted forward and rounded a building on a dead run. He sprinted up the alley and skidded to a halt beside Eli's stiff corpse. Someone had cut the poor old b.u.g.g.e.r's throat from ear to ear.

"Jezus!" a man croaked with revulsion. "Old Eli never had any money. Now, who in the world would do such a terrible thing?!"

"I don't know," Longarm said in a hard, flat voice, "but before I leave this country, I d.a.m.n sure mean to find out."

Chapter 9.

Longarm couldn't say for certain whether he was connected to Eli's death or not. All he knew for sure was that the old prospector had met a very sad and violent end while Longarm's own hopes of unraveling the mystery of Jimmy c.o.x had taken a major setback.

So what was he to do now? That afternoon, they had a funeral procession down the main street and Longarm followed it out to the cemetery. There weren't a lot of people in attendance, mostly prospectors and town drunks, but it was clear that they had all been Eli's good friends. One old codger, tall, proud looking, and in his sixties with a long, flowing white beard, seemed to be especially affected by Eli's death. When Eli was placed in his grave, it was this man who took a Bible out of his coat pocket, smoothed it in his big hands, and then spoke for everyone.

"As you know," he began, head bowed and hat in hand, "Eli Jones was my very best friend. I've lost two best friends lately, Eli and Jimmy c.o.x, who we all know is probably deader'n a doornail. And I don't know how G.o.d can have *em end up so badly. but I sure do want to ask Him to welcome their departed souls."

The man took a deep, shuddering breath, then continued, "Ain't none us nothin' but terrible sinners, Lord. You know that we all are. But, Lord, we ain't the kind of son of a b.i.t.c.h that cut poor Eli's throat or did away with Jimmy. Sure, we'll wh.o.r.e and get drunk every chance we have, but we ain't killers and none of us would ever hurt anyone out of spite or pleasure."

"Amen!" another miner shouted. "Tell it sweet, Preacher Dan!"

"And so, Lord, take poor Eli's soul to Your bosom and give him comfort in Your heaven. Give him good whiskey and meet, and some gold to fill his pockets. That's all any one of us could ask of You, Father in heaven. Amen."

Longarm was just as touched by the short but sincere sermon as anyone in attendance. And when a hat was pa.s.sed around to cover the cost of Eli's funeral, he contributed generously from the money he'd found hidden in Ba.s.s's canyon cabin. Afterward, everyone trudged back to Wickenburg and proceeded to get roaring drunk. Everyone, that is, except for Preacher Dan, who lingered at the cemetery.

Not wis.h.i.+ng to intrude, Longarm waited until the impressive old preacher returned to town and then intercepted him. "Excuse me, Preacher Dan," he began, "but I'd like a word with you."

The preacher stopped, and Longarm could see that his eyes were red from weeping. He had wide shoulders and must have been a fine specimen of manhood in his youth, but now those broad shoulders sagged with defeat and too many hard years.

"What do you want?" the preacher asked in a voice raspy with emotion.

"I need your help," Longarm said.

"I don't understand-"

Longarm reached into his pocket and dragged out his federal badge. "I'm a United States deputy marshal and my name is Custis Long. I came all the way from Denver to arrest Hank Ba.s.s and to find out what happened to my old friend Jimmy c.o.x. Last night, I made a bargain with Eli, who agreed to help me find Jimmy."

The preacher stared at the badge in Longarm's fist. He took a deep, ragged breath and asked, "What has this to do with me?"

"You said that Jimmy c.o.x was your other best friend. I thought, given that two of them are gone, you might want to help me find out who killed them. I can't do it without your help, Preacher."

The big man had ice-blue eyes, so sad that Longarm wondered what awful suffering he had endured in this world.

"Marshal, I'm very sorry, but I can't help you," he finally decided aloud.

"If you don't, Eli's murderer will never be found. You see, I'm pretty sure he was killed because someone learned that he was going to help me find Jimmy c.o.x."

"I doubt that."

"The man was broke," Longarm said. "He had nothing to steal. As far as I could tell, the only thing he had of value was the knowledge of where to start looking for Jimmy."

"Pure speculation, Marshal."

"When it comes to murder, I'm a good speculator, Preacher. And I need your help."

"In what way could I possibly be of a.s.sistance?"

"if you three were close friends, then you must know where Jimmy c.o.x vanished. You're the only hope I have of saving him."

"I'm sure that it's too late for that."

Longarm's jaw muscles corded. "But what if you are wrong?! What if Jimmy is still alive and is being held hostage while someone tries to learn the whereabouts of that Spanish treasure in gold coins?!" When the man didn't answer, Longarm said, "Preacher, are you really willing to take that chance? Or, put in another way, to take away what might be Jimmy's only chance to live?"

"No," the man whispered, "I'm not. What do you propose?"

"I propose that you lead me to Jimmy c.o.x. Or at least to the vicinity of where he told you he discovered those gold coins."

Preacher Dan pulled on his long white beard. "You seem very, very sure that I can do this."

"You're a man of faith," Longarm said. "I could hear faith in your words as you spoke over Eli's grave."

"I have faith that the Lord will judge those who have murdered my friends. I have no faith in you, Marshal. Or in any other man."

"Look," Longarm said, desperate to find the words that would win this deeply religious but stubborn man over to his side, "Eli didn't want to help me either, until I told him that there is a real possibility that Jimmy c.o.x is still alive, still being held captive until he either dies or breaks and tells where to find that treasure."

"How do you know this?"

"I know it," Longarm said, "because he sent me a newspaper and a note asking for help. That's why I came all the way to this Arizona Territory. And that's why I'm not going away until I either save Jimmy or give him a proper burial like Eli just received. But to do that, I need your help."

"Very well," Preacher Dan said after a long deliberation. "You shall have it to the extent that I can give it. But I warn you, I will not be a part or a party to vengeance. "Vengeance is mine alone, sayeth the Lord.'"

"Yeah, I've heard that, but I've also heard "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,' Preacher. But don't worry. I wouldn't think of asking you to take up arms against rapists and murderers. Or to save either of our lives if we are walking into our own graves."

"I don't fear death. Do you?"

"Yes," Longarm said, "I sure do. But then, I don't have your faith either."

"Perhaps it will grow as we go off into the desert."

"Perhaps."

The preacher frowned. "Do you have an outfit suitable for the desert country?"

"No, but I have the money to buy one."

"Just as good. Give me the money and I'll buy what you need for the journey we must take."

Longarm handed Preacher Dan the money.

"There," the man said, at last managing a smile. "You have just shown your first great act of faith in giving this money to a stranger."

"You aren't going to run out on me," Longarm replied. "And I'm not going to let you out of my sight."

The smile died. "Then you don't have any faith in me."

"I have faith in you," Longarm said, pivoting around and gazing back toward Wickenburg. "I also have a very strong belief that we are being watched right now by the man that cut Eli's throat last night. And that's why we're sticking close together until we leave this town."

The preacher's own eyes followed Longarm's back to town. He seemed lost in some deep inner dilemma, but he finally dipped his chin in a.s.sent and led the way to Wickenburg's largest general store, where they would outfit themselves for what Longarm was convinced would be a real ordeal.

Chapter 10.

Longarm and the preacher named Dan rode out of Wickenburg headed southwest into the desert country.

"These are good horses," Longarm said as they rode along. "Better'n a man can usually expect when he rents out of a livery."

"I own the livery," Dan said, looking a little embarra.s.sed. "Along with a few other local businesses."

Longarm was amazed. To look at Dan, you'd think he was a pauper. "You do?"

"That's right," the white-bearded man replied. "You act surprised, Marshal."

"I am," Longarm admitted.

"Is that because I dress very commonly and am called a preacher?"

"Partly. Preachers aren't known to have much in the way of money."

"Yes, but their true payment is everlasting life."

"I suppose."

They rode along in silence for a while, and then the preacher added, "Marshal, you're probably curious about how I come by money."

"That's none of my business."

"But it might be instructive," Dan argued, "so I'll tell you. About five years ago, the Lord drew me to a place far out in this desert and, just to test my faith, he put me in a terrible fix. Broke my leg, lost my horse and burro, had no water, and it was far hotter than it is right now."

"Sounds like you were in a real bad fix."

"Oh, I was!"

"So what happened?"

"When I began to die," Dan answered, "instead of getting angry at G.o.d, I told Him I was grateful to be leaving this earth and going to His side. I told Him that I'd been suffering from prospector's fever all my adult life and chasing earthly riches instead of eternal riches that His kingdom offered. I told Him that, if I ever had found gold, I probably would have just squandered it on sinful thingsa"but that I was a changed man, thanks to my suffering. And then I said, "Take me, G.o.d, cause I've suffered enough, and please do it quick!'"

"Obviously, He had other plans."

"Oh, yes, He did," Dan said. "Half crazed by thirst and blinded by the sun, I staggered into a deep hole."

"A hole?"

"Yep! It was a pit, really, filled with water from some deep underground spring. I tumbled into that water and it was like being baptized in the Jordan River. Suddenly, I could see again and my pain was gone. And at the bottom of that spring I found a sack full of gold nuggets."

"That's amazing."