Longarm and the Golden Goddess by Tabor Evans

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

Chapter 10

According to Dumont, the woman had left less than five minutes before Longarm returned with the rented horses. Up here in the clear, high mountain air, sounds traveled well, especially at night. Longarm called a halt once he and Dumont were well clear of the town, and he leaned forward a little in his saddle as he listened intently. After a moment, he heard the faint sound of hoofbeats.

“That way,” he said, urging his horse forward again. Dumont followed, still clutching at the saddlehorn to steady himself.

Trailing someone this way wasn’t easy, but Longarm had done it before and no doubt would again. His keen hearing made it a little less difficult. He was counting on the fact that the woman probably wasn’t stopping to listen for the telltale sounds of anyone following her. She had a definite destination in mind, and Longarm hoped she was focused on that and nothing else.

Instead of heading straight up the mountain, the woman’s route began to curve around the shoulder of the peak, skirting the big mining operations that were lit up, even at this time of night. Taking the silver out of the Comstock Lode deep under the mountain was a twenty-four-hour job.

Gradually, Longarm closed the gap between himself and Dumont and their quarry. He didn’t ease up on the pace until he could actually see the woman in the silvery sheen of moonlight that washed down over the mountains. He hung back just far enough so that if she happened to glance behind her she wouldn’t be likely to see him and Dumont.

They left the slopes of massive Mount Davidson and started along one of the many canyons that cut through the range of smaller mountains around the giant peak. There were mining camps up some of these canyons too, Longarm knew, and even some pretty respectable-sized settlements, but the canyon the woman followed was dark. The trail was choked with brush in places, and Dumont cursed under his breath as branches tore at his clothes and skin.

The canyon climbed to a pass between a couple of mountains. The woman stopped there, and Longarm caught sight of her, silhouetted against the lighter sky beyond, in time to draw rein and motion for Dumont to do likewise. They brought their mounts to a halt and watched.

Suddenly, light flared in the pass. It was small, no more than the flame of a match, but in those stygian surroundings, even the sputtering glare of a lucifer seemed bright. The woman lifted the match over her head and moved it back and forth three times before the little flame went out.

“A signal,” Longarm breathed.

“What do you mean, a sig—”

“Ssshhh.” Longarm didn’t want any more noise than necessary. He and Dumont were about two hundred yards away from the woman, he judged.

Long minutes stretched out almost painfully. Then Longarm heard hoofbeats again, coming from the other side of the pass. Someone was coming in response to the girl’s signal with the match.

Longarm would have been willing to bet it was either Harp Egan or one of the outlaw’s men.

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