Tabor Evans - Longarm on the Border

"Shut up, Spud!" Tucker ordered for the second time. "Bad feelin's between you and him is one thing. But if them rurales wants Custis bad enough to cross the river to git him, they're goin' to be in a mood to tear this town apart."

Spud obviously hadn't thought of this. He scratched his head. "Well, Ed, what d'you think we better do?"

"We better be ready to stand 'em off. Them rurales don't much listen to reason, unless there's guns backin' it up."

"For this worthless chawbacon? I tell you one thing, I don't aim to stick my neck out to save his!" Spud blustered.

"It ain't Custis worryin' me," Tucker said. "We put a lot of time into settin' ourselves up here. I don't aim to see it busted up. It ain't Custis we'd be helpin', man! It's us!"

"No, by God!" Spud shot back. "We don't have to fight them greasers! All we got to do is grab Custis and hand him over!"

"You figure to do the grabbing, Spud?" Longarm's voice was mild, almost casual. He might have been asking the deputy about the weather.

Lita's voice called again from the jail, "Coos-tees? Why you don' come help me? I don' feel so good."

Longarm took a half-step toward the jail door.

"Custis!" Spud yelled, "I warned you!"

As he spoke, the deputy's hand swooped for his revolver. He almost reached it before Longarm's Colt barked once. Spud crumpled. As he folded to the floor, Flo screamed and Tucker half rose from his chair.

"I'd sit right back down, Tucker, if I was you." Longarm's voice was suddenly as steely as his eyes.

"Jesus God!" Tucker breathed. He sagged back into his chair. "I thought Spud had a fast gun hand!"

Flo hadn't screamed after her first involuntary cry. Her eyes were fixed on the deputy's body. She said, disbelief in her voice, "You — you killed him!"

"He needed it," Longarm told her. To get Flo busy and keep her mind off the shooting, he said, "Do me a favor, Flo. Go back to the jail and see if that girl needs help. Tucker, where's the keys kept?"

"On — on a peg just inside the door."

Longarm continued, "If she's been beat up, get hold of that Apache girl we passed on the way in. Wahonta's her name. She'll get hot water and cloths and whatever else you need."

"You mean that man you shot was beating a helpless girl?" Flo asked.

"You heard him admit it."

"Well! If that's the kind he was, I'm glad you shot him!" Flo bounced across the room with long indignant steps and disappeared into the jail.

Longarm said to Tucker, "Well, make up your mind, man! Damn it, time's getting short!"

While Tucker was still grappling with his indecision, Ralston burst through the door. Miles Baskin was right behind him.

"Fellow run in the saloon," Ralston panted. "Said there was shooting here when he passed by!" He saw Spud's body. "Who done it, Ed?"

"Custis. But it was a square facedown. Spud wasn't fast enough."

Ralston looked at Longarm, who presented a face from which all expression had been carefully removed. After a moment, the deputy said, "Can't say I'm surprised. Spud didn't bother to keep it a secret that he was after you."

"A man's a fool to carry grudges," Longarm said by the way of a reply. "Sometimes they get in the way of his good sense."

Tucker said to Baskin, "Miles, I'm real glad you're here. Custis tells me we're due for some trouble."

Without appearing to be interested, Longarm took careful note of the interchange between Tucker and Baskin. It wasn't yet time to let the saloonkeeper know that Lefty had involved him in the rustling ring as well as tagging him as Tucker's secret boss. Getting the ground cleared for Webster and Hill to get safely across the river and setting up a defense against Ramos's men was the first order of business.

"What kind of trouble?" Baskin asked. "And how do I come into it? You're the sheriff, Ed. You're supposed to handle trouble."

"This is a sorta special kind," Tucker explained. "Custis got crossways of the rurales while he was across the river. There's a bunch of 'em ridin' here to take him back, he says."

"Well? Why tell me?" Baskin asked impatiently. He seemed to be bothered by the sight of Spud's body; he kept looking at it and then glancing away quickly.

"You don't understand, Miles!" Tucker's voice now carried a note of pleading. "If the rurales bust in here, they won't stop till they find Custis, and if they don't find him right off, they'll rip Los Perros from asshole to appetite. And then the army'll be in, and maybe the Rangers, and maybe federal marshals. It'll be one big stinkin' mess!"

"Um. I see what you're driving at," Baskin nodded with a frown. "Well, the answer's pretty damn plain, Ed. Arrest Custis and hand him over to the greasers. Then they'll go home and leave us alone."

"That's what Spud said," Longarm remarked quietly.

Baskin gulped. He looked again at the dead deputy, then at Longarm. He made no reply to Longarm's comment.

As though the saloonkeeper hadn't spoken, the sheriff told him, "Custis wants us to get some men together and keep the rurales on their side of the river."

"What men?" Baskin demanded.

Without giving Tucker a chance to reply, Longarm said, "You, for one, Baskin. I expect you can handle a gun well enough for a job like this. And we'll want everybody you've got working for you in the saloon: barkeeps, card dealers, swampies, everybody."

"Why should I put my people in danger?" Baskin challenged him.

"Maybe to save their own skins, Baskin. And yours, of course. You see, the sheriff's only got one deputy now, with Lefty gone and Spud dead. He's going to have to deputize a lot of men for this."

"Well, let him," Baskin bridled.

"You understand that if the sheriff deputizes a man who refuses to take on the job, that fellow goes to jail." Longarm was drawling his words out slowly now, and Baskin was beginning to get angry.

"Fine. That's where they belong."

"Glad you think so." Longarm turned to Tucker. "Sheriff, you can start by deputizing me and Baskin, here. Then, if he balks at being sworn in, I'll arrest him for you."

Tucker had already started to rise from his chair when Baskin's angry bellow froze him. "Ed! Why in hell are you letting this man take things over? You know, I've got a good mind~"

Tucker interrupted. "Now, Miles, don't say anything you might be sorry for. Custis ain't running things. I am."

"See that you do, then!" Baskin snorted.

Longarm suggested, "The sheriff might make you a deal, Baskin. If I was in his place, I would. Maybe if you let him have the men that work for you, he'll let you off from being deputized."

"Now that's fair enough, Miles," Tucker said. "How about it?"

Grudgingly, Baskin nodded. "If it'll get this fellow off my back, I'll send my crew over."

"With guns," Longarm stipulated. "I expect you got enough that your bouncer's took off drunks or that you've took in trade for drinks, to fit 'em out."

"All right, damn it! I'll see they've got weapons," Baskin growled. Then he said to Tucker, "Ed, I'll talk to you about all this later on!" He stamped out of the office.

"Well, there's the start of your posse," Longarm said to the sheriff. "Now if you and Ralston can round up a few more~"

Tucker was still too stunned to reply. Ralston answered, "Oh, we can find enough men, Custis. Guns, that's another thing."

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, you see, to cut down on gunplay and general meanness, we grabbed all the guns from the people a few years ago."

"And left your damn town wide open to any crew of gunmen who might ride by? Well, I've got three rifles and pistols and shells for 'em on that horse outside. You can start with those. And I'd guess the sheriff can dig up a few more, somewhere."

"I — I guess I can. We saved a few of the best ones," Tucker volunteered. "You go round up some men, Ralston. I better stay and swear in Miles's people, when they come over."