Tabor Evans - Longarm on the Border

"Ah, forget it. I didn't say nothing, anyhow."

Raising his voice, Longarm called, "There's another round or two of drinks to come out of that eagle on the bar. Sing out for refills. "

He thought about Marshal Billy Vail, back in Denver, and could imagine his chief's face changing color if he was to see government expense money being spent on whiskey for a bunch of toughs in Los Perros. His thoughts were interrupted by Sheriff Tucker calling his name.

"Custis! Come on back to the office with me. I just saw Miles Baskin stick his head outa his door. He's a man you'll want to know, if you're goin' to be in town awhile."

Baskin turned out to be a somewhat colorless individual. His lean face was adorned with the walrus mustache that was the trademark of a saloonkeeper, but this was the only outstanding feature of an otherwise nondescript face. His eyes were colorless, his nose unremarkably straight, and what his lips looked like was a secret guarded by the overhanging mustache. As he hadn't been involved in the dispute that had flared in the plaza, Baskin greeted Longarm pleasantly enough.

"I don't know what brings you to Los Perros, Custis, but any new customer's welcome in my place," he said. "Hope you'll drop in often."

"I was hoping I might do better'n drop in. I see you got some rooms upstairs, and I'm going to need a place to sleep. You happen to have one vacant, or are they all full up?"

"I don't keep whores in them, if that's what you're getting at," Baskin said. "You can have your choice for two bits a night. We don't get many travelers stopping off here."

"Fine. I'll pick one out later on. I don't guess there's a livery stable in town, is there? I got a horse that's going to have to be stabled and fed."

"No," the saloonkeeper said. Then, as an afterthought, "Ed, seeing Custis is a friend of yours, why don't you let him put his animal in the corral with your spare ones?"

"Well, I~" Tucker stopped, smiled, and went on, "I guess it'd be all right. One more nag won't work old Joselito to death."

"Looks like I'm all fixed up then," Longarm said. "That calls for a drink, if you gents feel like stepping out to the bar."

"No need for that," Baskin told him. He opened a wall cabinet and took out a bottle. "I keep enough back here to take care of my friends when they drop in. What's your pleasure, Custis?"

"Maryland rye, if you got it handy."

"Just happens I do." The saloonkeeper reached in and brought out a second bottle. He put the bottles and glasses on the table that he used for a desk. "Drink up, gentlemen."

After his first sip, Longarm decided that the quality of Baskin's private stock was a lot better than that of the liquor sold over his bar. He remarked, more to fill the silence than for any other reason, "Looks like business is slack for you today."

"It's quiet," Baskin agreed. "Things will liven up tomorrow, though. Ed'll tell you that."

"Oh? What's the occasion?"

"Why, it's the big Mexican holiday," Tucker said. "Dieciseis de Septiembre, their Independence Day. They'll be swiggin' mescal and pulque and dancin' in the plaza out there till all hours. But my boys'll be on hand to keep things from gittin' too wild."

"Now, wait a minute, Ed," Baskin interjected. "Did you forget~"

Tucker said quickly, "No, damn it, Miles, I ain't forgot. We can talk about that later on."

"If you gents need to talk private business, I'll excuse myself," Longarm offered.

"It's nothin' important," the sheriff assured him. "Just a little somethin' I told Miles I'd give him a hand with." He turned back to the saloonkeeper. "And I'll take care of it, don't worry."

"You go on and settle your business," Longarm told them. "I'll step on back to the bar and finish my drink with your deputies, Sheriff."

Spud, Lefty, and Ralston were standing where he'd left them, and Longarm noticed that the ten-dollar gold piece he'd put on the bar had disappeared. The thought passed through his mind that with bar whiskey a dime a shot, the three must've done some real two-fisted drinking during the few minutes he'd been with Tucker and Baskin, but he didn't say anything. It was worth a lot more than ten dollars to him to wash away the anger the plaza incident had sparked.

He said, "Well, it looks like I'm all fixed up. Room upstairs, a place for my horse in the sheriff's corral. Now, if one of you gentlemen'll just be kind enough to show me where the corral is, I'd better unsaddle him and get settled in."

Ralston, the friendliest of the three, volunteered, "Come on, Custis. It's just a step or two. I'll show you the layout."

"I'd appreciate it."

Longarm followed Ralston out of the saloon and around the building to the sheriff's office. Tordo stood at the hitching rail. Just outside the office door, the Apache girl was wiping out the basin in which she'd brought the water to minister to Jed Morton's back. She paid no attention to the two men.

As he slipped the dapple's reins free of the rail, Longarm asked the girl, "How's the man you were tending to?"

"Him all right." Her eyes, turned to Longarm as she spoke, were jet black and opaque. "Him be sore four, five days. Not hurt bad."

"Thanks for fixing him up, Wa — Wawayna, is it?"

"Wahonta." When she corrected him, Longarm thought the girl almost smiled. She added, "You welcome," and turned to go back into the office.

Ralston warned, "Don't get no ideas about the 'Pache gal. She's private property."

"Yours?"

"No. Times when I get horny, I sorta wish she was. Well, hell, you'll find out soon enough. She's Ed's girl. So be smart and keep outa her way." They started around the building to the corral. Ralston added, "Keep outa Spud's way, too. He holds on to a mad a long time."

"But you and Lefty don't?" Longarm was loosening Tordo's saddle girth. He didn't look up from his job.

"I can't say about Lefty, but I already said I don't hold you no bad feelings because of today."

Longarm set his saddle where some others rested on the top rail of the corral, tossed his bedroll over one shoulder, his saddle-bag over the other. He chalked up his purchase of drinks for the deputies as a wise investment, one that was already paying dividends. The return he was getting from Ralston alone was making it worthwhile. He said, "You mentioned it. Don't worry about Spud. I'll be careful not to let him get behind me. Especially in the dark."

"You've got his style tagged, all right. You take the way he's trying to cut~" Suddenly, the deputy seemed to realize he was letting his mouth run away with his good sense. He stopped short.

Longarm was curious to know what he'd started to say, but decided it'd be better to wait instead of prodding. He could get the man talking again, later on. There was also a growing void in his stomach that was yelling to be filled up. He remembered that he'd had only those three buns at noon, and lunch had slipped his mind in the general ruckus.

"I'll pick up my rifle from inside, and go see about that room," he told Ralston.

"I'll walk on back with you, I guess. Nothing else to do right this minute."

Side by side they walked back to the saloon. Lefty and Spud no longer stood at the bar; except for the aproned barkeeper the place was empty. Longarm said, "Hate to leave you by yourself, Ralston. You been real helpful. I'll remember it. Right now I'm going to see if this place has got such a thing as a bathtub. I need to soak the frail dust off my hide. When I'm dirty, I feel about as mean as your friend Spud acts. See you around town, tonight or maybe tomorrow."

As he went up the stairs, Longarm could feel Ralston's questioning gaze on his back.

Chapter 6

There was still daylight in the western sky when Longarm glanced out the window of the room he'd selected. He felt a lot better now, more like going downstairs in search of food. For a dime, he'd been provided with a big wooden tub of hot water in which he'd soaked and soaped away the travel grime. He'd felt so good that he'd tipped the mozo who'd brought the tub another dime.