Longarm 241: Longarm and the Colorado Counterfeiter (14 page)

Longarm came even with the bunkhouses. They were still dark, and there was not a sound. He pulled the mare up to listen. Again, there was nothing. He decided, with the main house only about a quarter of a mile further on, that it was time for him to go ahead on foot. He hated to walk in his high-heeled boots, but it was better than getting shot out of the saddle.

The moon had dropped down until it had finally disappeared behind the last crag of mountains. There was a faint afterglow in the sky, but the darkness was almost as complete as it would get. Longarm eased his leg over the back of the saddle, hearing the creak of the leather in the quiet night. He continued on until he dismounted. He dropped the reins of the mare, and then took a few steps forward and holding his rifle at the ready, peered carefully into the dark gloom of the night that lay ahead of him. There was no sign of light anywhere, not even in the big house.

He stepped out, moving slowly but carefully. He passed the first of the bunkhouses, and then the second. There was a space, and then beyond that was a small barn. There was a bigger one behind that. He was looking for movement. He saw none. He kept walking slowly, carefully, ever alert, the rifle ready in his hands. It was ready to fire from the hip or throw to his shoulder. Ahead now were nothing but a small stone house and then the big castlelike structure of Ashton's. He walked toward the small stone house, made to seem small only in comparison to the size of Ashton's place. He wondered if the one-story house, if it was that, was where they actually did the counterfeiting, where the plates and the paper and whatnot were stored. It didn't seem to have any windows in it that he could see, though he wasn't close enough in the dark to be able to really tell. There could have been windows that were curtained over that he wasn't able to see. He directed his steps, turning to his left and heading toward the smaller house. It was all brick, no wooden framework on it as there was on Ashton's house.

Not a light showed from the building. He doubted there was anyone there. Likely, it had been the home of one of the foreman. Maybe it still was. Maybe that foreman was still in there. If that was the case, Longarm couldn't afford to pass the place and have it to his back when he was trying to enter Ashton's house.

He stopped for a moment to reach around and adjust his gun belt. When he dismounted, he had taken the trouble to take out his spare revolver and stick it in the back waistline of his pants. It was uncomfortable and awkward and weighed down on his gun belt, but though a spare gun was something you might never need, if you did, you might need it awful bad. You never knew when you might get into a shooting fix where the six you were carrying in your revolver was one bullet too short. Then you really wanted that second gun. But a .44-caliber revolver was a heavy piece of business, and he had to get it resettled before he could move along.

Longarm looked at the small building, and then took a few steps to the low stone porch. There was no sign of activity inside, but he was going to have to open the door and make an examination before he could risk going on. He'd bypassed the bunkhouses, for it was clear they were deserted. He couldn't take the time to examine every outbuilding, but this little house stood so close to the castle, it would be almost at his back when he was trying to gain entry.

He stepped up on the porch, and then moved swiftly across and felt the door handle. It turned easily in his hand. It wasn't locked. He pushed it open and then stepped back out of the way, clear of the opening. Nothing happened. He stood still, trying to stifle the sound of his own breathing. After a moment, he peeked around the door frame to see what he could of the inside.

It was very difficult to see anything, for it was darker inside than it was on the outside. Stooping a little, holding the rifle in front of him, he stepped into the front part of the building. After a moment, his eyes adjusted and he could see that there were very few windows, and those that were there were covered with curtains of some kind. He moved along, taking each step carefully, sliding his boot across the floor with as little disturbance as he could manage.

He spent a full quarter of an hour in the place, and the best he could figure was that if someone lived there, they did so in only one room. That was the only place where he found a bed and a chest of drawers and some clothes in a closet. The other room seemed vacant, bare. He couldn't understand why anyone would build such a structure and only use one room. But it was certain that he wasn't going to find the answer while standing there in the dark with a rifle pointed at nothing.

He went back out through the door, stepping into the night. It seemed almost light after the gloom of the interior of the stone building. Now, he began to walk toward Ashton's castle. He was coming up on the side. He could see that there was a long, low stone wall that surrounded the immediate property, at least on his side of the house. If he recollected correctly from his first visit, he had passed through sort of an opening. The wall wasn't very tall, perhaps three feet or three and a half. It wouldn't keep anybody out.

Longarm walked slowly toward the house, studying its every aspect, wondering how he was going to get in without shooting out a lock. He was about ten yards from the low wall when he heard a dry little chuckle. He snapped his eyes to the left. There, standing just behind the wall and just behind a little post that was conveniently placed, was Early. The man chuckled again. He was holding a shotgun pointed directly at Longarm. Longarm had instinctively jerked his rifle up, but now he held it very still.

Early said, “Well, I see you've come back to pay us another visit, Mr.... is it Long? I don't recollect exactly. It's Long or Lang or something like that.”

Longarm didn't say anything. He watched the man with the shotgun. He was at a bad range to face a double-barreled shotgun. There was no way he could whip his rifle around before Early could let him have both barrels.

Early chuckled again. “Well, let's just call you Mr. Long. We're glad to welcome you back, Mr. Long, though I can't quite understand what your business is here. You keep coming around telling us you are in the horse business, but Mr. Ashton didn't think so.”

Longarm said, “What is this all about, Early? What do you mean, pointing that shotgun at me?”

Early laughed delightedly. “Mr. Long, you are quite the cutup, aren't you? Here you are on our property at four o'clock in the morning with a rifle in your hands, and you want to know why I am pointing a shotgun at you? Don't you reckon you can guess the answer to that one?”

Longarm said with a little edge in his voice, “If I'm disturbing anybody, I can always leave.”

Early said, “Oh, I reckon you're going to be leaving, Mr. Long. I have very little doubt about that. I'm just amazed, though, that you have come to trade horses in the middle of the night. That is what you've come for, is it not? To sell us some horses?”

Longarm was watching the man steadily, his mind frantically trying to think of something he could do. “I'm here doing whatever you think I'm doing. Early.”

“By the way, you wouldn't know anything about dynamite, would you?”

“I heard it will blow you up if you're not careful,” Longarm said.

It made Early laugh again. “Oh, and by the way, I think it would be a lot better if you'd put that rifle down on the ground. Just let the stock rest on the ground and then just turn the barrel loose. Do you reckon you can do that, Mr. Long? This shotgun is awful heavy and it's pulling against my finger. You know how that will make a shotgun go off—your finger right there on the trigger and your finger getting heavy.”

Longarm said quickly, “I'm dropping my rifle.”

He let his carbine go until it dropped flat. It made a dull sound on the hardpan of the yard just short of the castle fence. Early said, “Now, that's right handsome of you, Mr. Long. Gives me a more secure feeling, if you take my meaning. I'm not really happy having a man of what I reckon your caliber might be holding a rifle that close to me, especially at this hour of the morning and with no other help around.”

Longarm said, “You don't look like you'd need any help.”

“Yeah, but I think you've figured out it would be better if everybody left. Was that you, Mr. Long, celebrating the Fourth of July a little early this year by setting off those dynamite charges up yonder? You know, you spooked some of the boys right bad. It was a good plan. But it didn't allow for one thing. You still had to come and you still had to get by me and you have to get to Mr. Ashton. Now, I don't know what it is that you're after, but I think we're going in the house here in a minute and talk about it. I think we're going to get you tied down in a chair somehow where we can have a real good conversation. What do you think about that, Mr. Long?”

Longarm knew one thing for certain. He was never going in that house at the point of a shotgun. Once they got him inside with a gun on him, he was as good as finished. Once they got him roped and tied down, he was definitely finished. A man could only take so much pain, and after a while, he would probably tell them nearly anything they wanted to know. He'd make up what he could, but eventually, they would just keep on because they had nothing to lose until he was whistling like the wind. He said, “Mr. Early, you are acting mighty suspicious. What do you folks have to hide here? I thought Mr. Ashton was just a rich, eccentric man who didn't like folks coming around and who liked his privacy. Do you all have something that you're doing here, that you're hiding?”

“Well, Mr. Long, I don't know that we need to discuss that much. In fact, I'll tell you what we ought to be doing right now. We ought to be getting in the house. Let's do that by you putting your hands right straight up in the air right now, Mr. Long.”

Longarm put his hands slowly up to his hips. He said, “I'm not so sure that I'm comfortable with my arms up in the air. I've got a shoulder bothering me.” While he was talking, he was easing his right hand around his back, enclosing it on the butt of his spare revolver.

Early said, “Mr. Long, I'm going to give you to the count of three to get your hands up in the air. I might ought to tell you that I count by twos—”

At that instant, Longarm launched himself forward in a dive, jerking out the revolver as he went. In the air, he heard the boom of the shotgun and felt the wind of the pellets going over his head. There had been only one barrel. He had his gun up now, and just before he hit the ground, he thumbed off a shot at Early, seeing the bullet taking the man in the chest. The man staggered backward. Longarm hit the ground, pulling back the hammer again. This time, he raised up slightly and fired off a second shot, hitting almost the same spot as the first one.

Early was a bigger man than Longarm had noticed the first time around, but he was also wearing a big leather coat against the cool mountain night air. He staggered back another step after the second shot, but he was still holding the shotgun. Longarm got to his knees, holding the revolver on the big man. Early was struggling. Longarm could see the effort in his face as he brought the shotgun up to his face to fire the other barrel. Just as he almost got it above the level of the wall, Longarm shot him a third time, dead center in the chest. This time, the man staggered back three steps and fell over. He fell heavily, landing with a thud. Longarm got up and walked over to the wall, his .44 cocked and held out in front of him, pointing at where the big dark figure of Early lay on the ground.

Longarm stepped over the low stone wall and walked near to where the man was lying. He kicked the shotgun a little further away. He was amazed to see that the man with three heavy slugs in his chest was still breathing. Early said, “Wha ... Who ... are...”

Longarm said, “Does it really matter, Mr. Early, who I am? You're going fast, so I reckon you don't need to know all that bad. You just made a bad mistake. You should have shot me when you had the chance.”

He hadn't finished speaking when Early closed his eyes and stopped breathing. Longarm jumped back across the wall to retrieve his rifle. He took a moment to reload the empty chambers of the spare gun he had been using. He stuck it back inside his waistband at the small of his back. It was a position that seemed to work out fairly well.

Longarm took a long moment to study the big stone mansion in front of him. He knew that the shots would have been heard, but he doubted that it would make much difference. He was certain that Early had come out of the mansion when he'd been aware of Longarm's presence. Now, he was fairly certain that Ashton was alert and was preparing for his entrance. The only question was how could he best get into the castle and get at him? He wondered if Ashton had any idea what Longarm was doing and what he was after. He wondered if Ashton thought of him as someone investigating the counterfeiting. If he did, then the odds were that he would already be destroying the evidence.

But for some reason, Longarm didn't think that that was the case. Rather, Longarm figured that Ashton had him pegged as a robber, a man who had come to take some of Ashton's wealth. Longarm hadn't played the game the way a law officer would, and he didn't believe that Ashton would expect one lone United States marshal to try to infiltrate his fortress. And he certainly wouldn't have expected a federal marshal to use the methods that Longarm had used, blowing up the sides of his mountains, and especially shooting down his men. No, he had to figure that Longarm was a desperado who was after some gold or cash and didn't much care how he got it.

The one thing Longarm couldn't know for certain was whether there were any other gunmen in the house. He'd been told that there was no one else left but the women and Early. Of course, Early was no longer in the game. But Longarm doubted that Ashton could face him one against one. For that reason, he was going to be especially careful.