Tabor Evans - Longarm on the Border

"What'll it get me if I tell you?"

"It might not get you much, except save you a stretched neck."

"Well, shit! I guess I might as well. Ask ahead."

"We can save the rustling part till later," Longarm said. "But you can start by telling me about those four men I'm looking for."

"Spud's the one that'll have to tell you about them nigger bluecoats," Lefty began.

"No. You better tell me, right now!"

"Hell, I don't know where they are!"

"Make a real good guess, then. But do it now. Don't waste my time, or I might run outa patience with you."

"Well." Lefty saw he was cornered. "You know how Spud and Ed is about niggers."

"No, I don't. I might guess, but I'd rather hear you say it."

"They're old Quantrill riders, and anybody who was with him ain't exactly what you'd call a nigger lover. Spud's worse'n most, though, I guess. Anyhow, them troopers made two or three real bad mistakes. They come into Los Perros, that's number one.

They strutted into Baskin's saloon, that's number two. Then they sassed Spud, and that's number three. You ain't goin' to find them troopers, not ever, Marshal."

"You still haven't told me what Spud did."

"When they give him hard lip in the saloon, he cut one of 'em down, right then and there. He made the other one tote the body out in the brush somewheres. Don't ask me whereabouts, because Spud never told me, and I had sense enough not to ask him. Anyhow, the live one never come back."

"You're pretty sure Spud killed him, too?"

"Sure as God made little apples. He just as good as told me he did. Spud was havin' one of his mean spells right then, so I didn't wanta rile him by askin' questions."

"All right." Mentally, Longarm wrote off the two deserters. That left two men still missing. "What about Captain Hill? And the Ranger, Nate Webster?"

"They both come through Los Perros all right. The Ranger was the first one to show up, about a month before the army man. Both of 'em visited with Ed, but I don't know what they talked about. He never did tell me. Only thing I'm sure of, the Ranger was in town one day and gone the next, and the captain was, too."

"You're not exactly a gold mine of information, Lefty," Longarm observed. "You'll have to do better than that."

"So help me, Marshal, I'm tellin' you all I know. I can't tell you things I don't know, now can I?"

"You were on the inside, Lefty. Put your mind to it. I'm right sure you'll remember a few things you've forgot."

"Well~" the deputy frowned. "I did hear Ed say he'd sent the Ranger kitin' off on a wild-goose chase over the river."

"That's better. Where, over the river?"

"He didn't say where. Just Mexico, something like that."

"What about Hill? Did Tucker give him the same treatment?"

"Just about. Ed knew Spud had killed them troopers, you see. He had to get the captain outa town fast, before he could ask too many questions. So Ed made out the men had hightailed it right on through town and across the river."

"Then the captain followed the trail Tucker gave him?"

"Well, you couldn't call it a trail. He didn't aim the bluecoat in any special direction, the way I got it. And that's all I know, Marshal. It's God's own truth, that's all I can tell you!"

"It all hangs together," Longarm nodded. "And I don't think you're a good enough liar to make up a yarn like that, Lefty."

"If you was to string me up right here and now, I couldn't tell you no more," Lefty said fervently.

"All right. Let's get to this rustling business. Looks to me like you and your friend Sanchez are waiting for a bunch of hands to come and drive this herd on south. Is that right?"

Sanchez spoke for the first time since he'd disclaimed any more knowledge of English. "Este hijo de puta, Esquivel! Es su tacha!"

Longarm asked Sanchez, "Who's Esquivel?" When the man didn't answer, he said to Lefty, "I don't need to be told that, I guess. I'd say Esquivel's the fellow that was supposed to be here to meet you, ain't he? To take the herd on south?"

Lefty nodded. "Yeah. Him and his bunch was supposed to be here by sunup. Spud and our boys had to start back by then."

"What about you, Lefty? Were you going to collect Tucker's payoff here, or were you going to the headquarters place for it?"

"Lefty!" Sanchez warned. "No mandate esto!"

"Hell, Sanch, it won't hurt to tell him," Lefty said. "I was goin' along with Esquivel. It's near enough so's I could be back in Los Perros early tomorrow."

Longarm didn't comment on the deputy's remark, though it pinpointed for him the location of the rustlers' headquarters. All he'd have to do was study his map and find a spot where there was plenty of water, within a four- or five-hour ride. Instead, he asked, "How many's coming with this Esquivel hombre?"

"I don't know. Four or five, I guess. Ed didn't say."

"Then, if you~" Longarm began.

A shout from the canyon rim interrupted him. He looked around, and saw four riflemen standing, shielded by boulders, their guns leveled.

"Damn!" he snapped. "Looks like I waited too long to start us heading back to the river! That'd be your pal Esquivel!"

Sanchez started to laugh, though the effort brought a grimace of pain to his face. "You a fool to waste time, gringo! Now it is you who will get el tiro, not me!"

Longarm looked at the opposite rim of the canyon. Two more men were posted there, rifles covering the camp. His own Winchester was leaning against the rock where he'd put it when he heated the coffee. He estimated his chance of surviving if he tried for it, and gave up the idea. Suicide wasn't in his plans.

A horseman appeared behind the men on the south rim of the canyon. Motioning them to follow him, he walked his horse down the slope. When he'd gotten close enough for Longarm and the others to see him clearly, Sanchez let out a despairing moan.

"Sangre de la Virgen! No es Esquivel! Ahora todos tomen el tiro! Ellos son rurales!"

Chapter 11

When he heard Sanchez's words, Longarm felt better about everything. The rurales, the Mexican Federal Rural Police, occupied a position similar to that of the federal marshals in the United States. They operated out of a number of strategically located field headquarters scattered throughout Mexico, and answered only to the national government. He watched the mounted rurales approach with the feeling that after he'd identified himself and explained everything, they'd give him what help was needed to capture the rustier force that was now on its way and long overdue.

Lefty said in a whisper, "God a-mighty, Marshal! If Sanchez is right, we're in trouble up to our assholes now!"

"You and Sanchez, maybe. There ain't no way that bunch your man Esquivel's bringing along can stand up to these fellows."

"Is that how you figure?" Lefty shook his head, and with a sincerity that Longarm knew couldn't be put on, said, "Don't fool yourself for a minute. They won't help you. Shit, they won't like you because you're a gringo and in Mexico. I tell you, the only thing the rurales gives a fuck about is the rurales."

"What're you driving at, Lefty? They're federal police; so am I, only from another country. If you're trying to spook me, get me to help you outa this jackpot by telling them you and me are working together, you're about to be disappointed."

"You ever run up against the rurales before?"

"Sure. About four years ago, when I come down here on another case. They were real helpful. I tagged 'em as a pretty good outfit."

"Four years ago, they was. That's before Diaz got to be boss of Mexico again. The rurales is his boys now, just like me and Spud and the rest of our bunch is Ed Tucker's men. And if you think he's a bad one, you don't know what bad is, yet."