Longarm #429: Longarm and the Lady Lawbreaker by Tabor Evans

Author:Tabor Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2014-07-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

“Burt, you are gonna make a little noise. I want you t’ crawl up near the head of the off leader, an’ make some noise. I don’t want you to be obvious about it. I mean, not too much noise. But enough t’ be heard. Maybe unhook a trace chain an’ let it rattle some. Like I say, noise but not loud. Can you do that?” Longarm said.

“Yes, sir, I can do that, but what will you be doing?”

“I’ll be going in the other direction.”

Burt Hood raised an eyebrow, but Longarm did not elaborate on his plan. After a moment Burt asked, “Can I take the girl with me? She seems to be comforted by being close to someone.”

Longarm said, “Take her with you if you wish. Matter o’ fact it’s probably a good idea to keep her close so’s you can keep an eye on her.”

“When, um, when should I start?” Burt asked.

“Now would be fine,” Longarm said, then turning to the schoolteachers he added, “If you ladies want t’ wail a little more, now would be the time to do it. Sniffle an’ blubber all you like.”

If either heard him, they gave no sign of it. But that was all right, too, he thought. He was not counting on the schoolteachers’ help.

Longarm stayed where he was until Burt and the girl crawled out toward the front of what had been the team of four horses. He was not sure exactly what they were doing out there but he could hear . . . something. Something muffled and indistinct. Perfect.

Once the rifleman’s interest should have shifted toward the front of the dead team—or so Longarm fervented hoped it was anyway—he slipped over the drop into the arroyo the coach had climbed out of just before the ambush.

The wall of the arroyo was no more than four feet high, but that was enough to provide him with some cover from the rifleman’s bullets. More importantly, the soft, loose sand at the bottom provided him with silence.

Crouching low to avoid being seen, Longarm palmed his .45 and made his way southeast along the arroyo floor toward the unknown gunman’s hiding place.

Sixty yards on Longarm smiled as the rifleman fired once more, his muzzle flash pinpointing his position.

Moving carefully, Longarm crept within eight or ten yards from the place where he had seen that muzzle flash.

He held his Colt by the barrel long enough to wipe his palm on his trousers, then resumed his grip on the .45, took a deep breath, and stood up.

In the dim light of the stars overhead he could see a dark shape kneeling in an arroyo that intersected the cut where Longarm was hiding.

He took aim on the figure before he spoke.

“You’re under arrest, cocksucker,” he announced in a loud, firm voice. Then immediately, without waiting for a response, he added, “Stop or I’ll shoot. Hands up. Don’t move.”

He would not normally have gone through that stupid litany of instruction, but Billy Vail had said

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