Tabor Evans - Longarm on the Border

Webster frowned. "Trouble is, I don't know how much of a case I could make against the sheriff. Now Baskin, he's sure to go up a long time for rustling. But even if he turns evidence against Tucker, I don't know that a jury'd go hard on him, since Baskin's been his boss."

"Tell you what. You take Baskin. Let me worry about Tucker."

"Fair enough," the Ranger agreed. "But it's still you who'll call the turns."

"If that suits you, it's good enough for me. Come on." Longarm led the way back to Baskin's office. They entered without knocking. Baskin was kneeling in front of the big office safe, pulling out papers, ledgers, and money bags and stuffing them in a disorderly jumble into saddlebags that were already bulging. He leaped up when Webster and Longarm entered.

"Sorta thought you might've waited till you seen whether me or Ramos come out winner before you got ready to hightail," Longarm said mildly.

"Now, don't shoot me, Custis! If it's money you're after~"

"What the hell's he talking about?" Webster asked.

"Baskin's clock's running a little late," Longarm explained. "He's still got me tagged as a hard case on the dodge." He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open to show his marshal's badge. The saloonkeeper's jaw dropped. Longarm said, "I guess your friend the sheriff didn't introduce you to this gent here, when he passed through town before. He's Texas Ranger Nate Webster. I don't know how many federal laws you broke, Baskin, but Nate can damn sure make a good state case against you, so I'm letting him have you."

"Let's see now," Webster began. "There's rustling, which is about all I need. It'll get you a good long sentence when your part in the new Laredo Loop comes out. You don't look like you got guts enough for murder; I'd say you had your killing done by the sheriff and his boys, but you'll wind up as an accessory. And there'll be more before it's over, when Tucker starts talking."

"You don't have to wait for him to talk," Baskin said eagerly. "Just tell me what you want to know. Maybe you'll take it light on me if I~"

Webster interrupted. "I don't need you to make my case. No deal, Baskin. You'll take your chances with the rest of your bunch."

"As a favor, Nate, you might haul him with us when we go see the sheriff. Tucker still ain't caught on that this crook's kingdom he's set up has been busted to hell."

"Sure. If you're ready, we'll get on with the rat catching," Webster grinned.

With Baskin in tow, they went out the back door of the saloon and walked the few steps to the sheriff's office. Ralston was sitting behind the desk. He leaped up and ran forward when he saw Longarm, stretching out his hand.

"That was the neatest piece of gun handling I ever saw, this morning~" Something in Longarm's eyes stopped him and his grin faded away. "What's the matter?"

"That's what we come to find out," Longarm told him. "Where's the sheriff?"

"He's still back in his rooms, him and Wahonta."

"Guess you better get him out here. We got a little business that needs to be settled."

Ralston hurried through the door into the ell. Tucker hadn't been in bed, for he returned with the deputy almost immediately, fully dressed even to his ivory-handled revolver in its tooled holster.

"What the hell's so important that I get roused out before I finish my breakfast?" he demanded. He saw Baskin then, and Webster standing beside the saloonkeeper. His florid face paled, but he tried to bluff things through. "Glad to see you got back from that trip to Mexico, Ranger. I hope them tips I give you panned out."

"You might say they panned out better than I thought they would." Webster's tone was carefully neutral.

Baskin's anger had been growing faster than his fear and caution. He blurted, "Damn it, Ed! Where'd you hide out last night and this morning?"

"I felt sick, Miles," Tucker answered. "Real sick, all night. Still don't feel too spry."

"You're a fool!" Baskin snorted. "You were blind drunk last night, if I know you, which I sure as hell ought to by now! Drunk, and wallowing in bed with your Apache whore! Do you know what happened in Los Perros last night and today at daybreak?"

"Well, I guess if it'd been somethin' important, I'd've heard about it," the sheriff said defensively.

"You've got shit where your brains used to be," Baskin said contemptuously. "I guess it's partly my fault. I knew you were getting past your time, but I didn't realize you'd gone so far."

"Now, you got no right~"

"I'd say he's got every right," Longarm broke in, "seeing as he's been your boss all these years. What Baskin's trying to tell you is that you're finished, Tucker."

His pig-eyes narrowed and Tucker said, "What're you doing, Custis? Trying to take Los Perros away from me?"

"You still ain't thinking straight. First off, Custis is only the first half of my name. The rest of it's Long. I'm a deputy U.S. marshal."

"He's dealing it to you straight," Webster said, when Tucker looked to him for confirmation. "Marshal Long was sent down here to find me and Captain Hill, after you hared us off into Mexico, and for all I know, tipped off the rurales to be on the lookout for us. And I don't think the marshal would want Los Perros, even if you could hand it over to him."

"Damn you, Custis, or Long, or whatever your name is! You been trickin' me all along! You sneaky son of a bitch~"

Longarm's voice was steely as he cut Tucker short. "Mind what you say! Up to now I ain't held no personal grudge, so don't give me a reason to!"

Ralston volunteered, "The marshal outdrawed that rurale captain up on the sandspit at dawn today, Sheriff. Best gunplay I ever seen. If it was me, I'd apologize right quick."

"Well," Tucker grunted, "I guess I oughtn't've said that."

"No. You oughtn't," Longarm agreed. "I was aiming to turn you over to the Rangers with your boss~"

This time it was Tucker who interrupted. He looked at Baskin. "Is he tellin' me the truth, Miles? You standing so close by that Ranger because you're his prisoner?"

"If you hadn't been such a constipated jackass, you'd've seen that first thing!" Baskin shot back. "And it's mostly your fault. I'm going to see that you spend just as many years in jail as I do!"

"You didn't let me finish what I started to say," Longarm went on, his voice almost casual. "Now, the Rangers could stand you up alongside of Baskin in a Texas court, but you might just get off too light. When you flapjawed at me, I decided you need a good, long sentence, so I'm taking you in on federal charges."

"You got no federal charges against me!" Tucker blustered. "I was real careful not to get crossways of that damn Reconstruction gov'mint we got now!

Once it come out I rode with Quantrill~"

"They'd put you away for life, wouldn't they?" Longarm asked.

"They damn sure would, and you know it! That's why I was so careful~"

Again Longarm interrupted. "You wasn't careful enough. That Apache girl, now. She's a federal ward, like any other reservation Indian. She can't consent to lay up with no man, white or Indian, till she's legally married to him."

"You can't~"

Longarm went on as though he hadn't been interrupted. "But that's not the worst I'll charge you with, Tucker. You confessed to me that you bought that girl. Now, there's an amendment to the U.S. Constitution that makes buying a human being a federal crime. That's the big charge they'll keep you in jail for." He turned to Webster. "Sorry to take him away from you, Nate, but~"

Something in the Ranger's eyes alerted Longarm. He whirled as he drew and faced Tucker just as the sheriff's hand closed over the ivory grips of his pistol. Longarm's slug went to Tucker's heart.

In the silence that followed the shot and the thud when Tucker hit the floor, Webster said, low, in Longarm's ear, "You really think he'd've gotten life for monkeying with that Indian girl, Marshal?"