Longarm and the Four Corners Gang by Tabor Evans

Author:Tabor Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

Chapter 10

That afternoon Longarm and Lucy were spotted by five mounted Indians who suddenly altered their direction and came galloping forward.

“They’re all carrying rifles,” Longarm said tight-lipped as he watched the Indians charge across the dry valley they’d been following. “I’m afraid that this could be big trouble.”

Lucy’s eyes dropped to her shotgun. “Shall we arm ourselves?”

“Yes,” Longarm said, unwilling to trust his life to the Indians.

He slipped his Winchester out of his saddle boot while Lucy did the same with her shotgun.

“The last thing we want to do is go to war with this bunch,” he told her. “So let’s just see if we can have a nice, friendly little conversation and then go our separate ways in peace.”

“Do you really think they’ll let us go without paying?”

“No, but if the price isn’t too high, we’ll give in to their request.”

“We won’t give up our guns, will we?”

“Of course not! Just don’t panic and open fire, even if it appears that they mean to kill us.”

The five Indians rode scrubby ponies, and although Longarm was uncertain, he guessed that they were Navajo. This was their land, and Longarm had heard that Navajo wore silver and turquoise jewelry like this bunch and were considered to be excellent horsemen.

Longarm raised the Winchester’s barrel so that it was pointing slightly over their heads. He also positioned his six-gun for a fast draw before taking a deep, relaxing breath. The five Indians drew their sweaty horses to a halt only a few dozen yards away and, for several tense minutes, did nothing more than glare.

“Hello, there!” Longarm called to break the mounting tension. “We come in peace.”

No response.

“I’m a United States Deputy Marshal.”

Still no response.

“This isn’t starting off too good,” Molly whispered. “Have you got any more clever openings?”

“Me Indian agent!”

This caused the Navajo to go into a hurried conference, and soon one detached from the rest and rode forward. He was blocky and dressed in white man’s clothes with a blue bandanna tied around his head. His most notable feature was a wicked knife or saber scar that furrowed the crown of his nose.

“You Indian agent?”

“Not exactly, but I’ve made friends with a few of them,” Longarm said, talking fast. “There was Joe Beeker over in Wyoming and Clyde Evans with Mescalero Apache, but they both retired or else got fired, I’m not sure which. And I knew John Alexander, now he was with the Comanche over in the Kansas area.”

The Navajo scowled with confusion as Longarm babbled on at Molly. Looking disgusted, he pointed to Molly and barked, “Woman for trade?”

Longarm kept his eyes glued on the horseman and said, “She is my woman and not for trade. Do you have good woman, too?”

The Indian’s scowl deepened, and he gave no answer.

“Are you boys Navajo?” Longarm asked with a corn-eating smile.

The horseman dipped his chin.

“That’s good, because I’m looking for Yancy Hooker. Where can we find him and his gang?”

“Navajo need guns and horses.”

“So do we,” Longarm replied with the silly smile pasted on his face.

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