Longarm and the Mountain Bandit by Tabor Evans

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

Chapter 21

“Son of a bitch but it’s cold up there.”

Longarm dropped his things onto the floor of Mrs. Shreave’s common room. He didn’t even pretend to be tidy about it. He opened his coat, shucked out of it, and dropped it on top of everything else. The whole thing made a powerfully smelly heap, which he noticed now that he was in where there was a fire and folks.

Funny, but he honestly hadn’t been conscious of his stink up there on the mountain.

“I need a bath,” he said. “And food. And some clean clothes.”

Lou paused in the act of picking up after Longarm’s mess. She wrinkled her nose and sniffed, then loudly agreed. “I’m glad you said something about a bath. The rest of us will all appreciate that.” She was, fortunately, smiling when she said it, though.

“Let me have a drink first, please.”

Betty poured him a generous knock of the vile, blessed bar whiskey. Longarm tossed that back and generously allowed her to pour him another.

“Lou’s getting your bathwater now. We’ll bring the tub into your room, Marshal.”

“Thanks.”

“D’you want to wait for us to cook something for you? We have some leftover stew on the stove. It should still be warm.”

“I’ll take the stew now, thanks, and something more later.”

He’d been out for eleven days, the last three of them without anything in his belly but snowmelt water. And damn-all little for the two days before the food ran completely out.

Every day, though, he’d managed to follow the rifleman a little closer to the son of a bitch’s lair, wherever it was he went at night.

The man didn’t always go out to watch the road, but Longarm had been able to follow him far enough the second time he saw him that he was able to pick the man up again each day and then, each evening, follow him just a little way closer before losing him in the sudden mountain darkness that fell with scarcely any twilight to soften the blow.

Longarm was getting close. He felt it. And he hated having to come down to reprovision. Had to be done, though. He simply had no choice about it. Not if he wanted to have stamina enough to do anything once he found the rifleman’s nesting place.

He just flat needed some warmth and some food. And one good night’s sleep in a real bed.

Then he’d be ready to tackle grizzlies if that’s what it took. Not that he’d seen any grizzlies in this particular range. There were a hell of a lot of black bears up there, and some goats wandering about up above timberline. But no grizzlies. Thank goodness. Those fuckers were downright mean and not to be trusted.

The most dangerous game of all, though, was the quarry Longarm was tracking. Or anyway would get back to tracking tomorrow.

That, however, was tomorrow. This was today. And, oh, that bath was gonna feel fine.

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