Longarm and the Train Robbers (18 page)

"What's the
address?"

"It's one hundred
and five."

"Ought to be in
the next block," Longarm announced.  "After we get you
introduced, we'll see about getting you settled into a
respectable hotel or ladies' boardinghouse, and then I'd better
hunt up Marshal Denton.  If we don't shoot each other on sight, I
guess we'll probably reach some kind of an
understanding."

"We're both going
to be very busy in the coming days," Veronica warned him.  "I'm
going to be the best teacher in this whole town.  Every bit of my
energy will be used to get started on the right foot."

"I'm sure you'll
be a huge success."

"I mean to be,"
Veronica said with obvious determination.  "It will take some
getting used to living out in the West, but I'm going to do
everything I can to adjust.  I've already fallen in love with
those magnificent Sierra Nevada Mountains."

"They are
beautiful," Longarm said, glancing up at the line of snowcapped
peaks just a few miles to the west.

"And so, we may
not have a chance to see each other very much for a while.  I
know all your energy will be directed toward catching that train
gang."

"It sure will,"
Longarm agreed, "but when things settle down I'll come back to
the school and look you up.  We can go visit Lake Tahoe on a
Sunday."

"It's a date," she
said, "and..."

Longarm frowned,
and his eyes followed Veronica's to the boarded-up Washoe
School.  It was a dilapidated wood-frame building with peeling
paint and a brokendown picket fence.  There was a note tacked to
the door, and Longarm immediately sensed that the school was
closed.

"I'd better read
the note," Veronica said quietly as she stepped away from
Longarm.

He felt awful, and
wished there was something that he could do or say. But there
wasn't, and so he just waited and watched the bags while Veronica
went up and read the note.

She read it for a
long time and when she finally returned, there were tears running
down her cheeks.  "it went broke," she told Longarm when she came
to his side.  "The note said that the bank repossessed Washoe
School and all its property in default of unpaid mortgage
payments."

"Damn," Longarm
muttered.

Veronica gulped. 
"I don't even have enough money for a train ticket back to
Iowa!"

"Calm down,"
Longarm said.  "I can advance you the fare."

"But I don't want
to go back to Iowa!"

"Then I can help
you find a decent place to room until you can find another
job."

"But what if I
can't find one?"

"You will,"
Longarm assured her, though he had no idea what he was talking
about.  But Veronica looked so devastated that he added, "Why, a
good schoolteacher is as prized in Nevada as squirrel
eggs!"

"Squirrels don't
lay eggs," she sniffled.

He used the cuff
of his sleeve to dry her cheeks.  "I know.  That's why they're
prized."

Veronica tried to
laugh, but failed miserably.  "Come on," Longarm said. "I know a
lady who will take you into her home.  She's a fine person and
you'll be welcome until we can figure out exactly what you want
to do."

"I'm worried about
you losing your job.  You should be doing something better than
squiring me around."

"Mrs. Appleton
lives just a few blocks away.  She's a widow with a great and
generous heart.  You'll love her and she'll enjoy your
company."

"You are such a
sweet, dear man," Veronica said, kissing his cheek.  "I don't
know how I can ever repay your kindness."

"Oh, I imagine
that I'll think of something," he said with a happy
smile.

Betsy Appleton had
been a madam for many years, but Longarm did not think he ought
to mention that.  She'd been very successful, saved some money,
and invested a good deal more.  She lived in a huge Victorian
home on Fourth Street, not far from the Truckee River.  It was a
beautiful home, but Betsy had a soft spot for abandoned cats,
dogs, and girls in just that order.  The last time Longarm had
visited Betsy, the old gal had had twenty-three cats and seven
dogs, none of them housebroken.

"What's that
smell?" Veronica asked as they mounted Betsy Appleton's huge
veranda.

"Aw, she keeps a
few cats and dogs inside."

This fact was
vociferously confirmed a moment after Longarm knocked.  All the
dogs and cats set up a deafening chorus.

"I'm not sure
about this," Veronica said with growing apprehension.

"You don't even
notice the noise or smell after a few hours," Longarm assured
her.  "And Betsy sure could use some help feeding and cleaning up
after them."

"Custis!"

Veronica would
have turned and bolted away, except that Longarm grabbed and held
her until Betsy opened her door.

"Custis!"

"Betsy, darlin',"
he said, stepping up to give the sweet old gal a big hug and kiss
on the cheek.

"And who is this
lovely child?"

"Miss Veronica
Greenwald, and she needs a little help right now, Betsy. Do you
think she could stay until she finds a teaching job?"

Betsy was now in
her sixties, but her skin was creamy smooth and her eyes were
bright and trusting.  "Why, of course!  I'm sure that she'll love
the children."

As they walked
into the parlor, Betsy's "children" swarmed all around them.  Big
dogs.  Little dogs.  Pretty dogs.  But mainly mangy dogs. 
Barking and yapping, with the cats in the background meowing.  It
was a real menagerie, and the odor of cat and dog droppings was
almost overpowering.

"Of course she'll
love your children, Betsy!" Longarm exclaimed, feeling
light-headed in the closed room.  "Why, Veronica was just telling
me as we walked over here how much she loved animals."

"What a kind
soul!"  Betsy looked at Veronica.  "What a dear heart you are. 
We shall become very good friends."

"I'm sure,"
Veronica said as a big, black dog began to lick her ankles,
causing her to jump about like a car pet flea.

"Well, I have to
run," Longarm hollered over the noise.  "But I'll be back before
you know it."

"Custis!"

Longarm could not
bear to see Veronica's desperate expression, so he whirled and
ran.  He told himself that at least Veronica would be safe with
Betsy Appleton, and might even be able to establish some control
over the animals and housebreak them.

In any event,
Veronica would have plenty of Betsy's "children" to
teach.

CHAPTER
15

Longarm found
Marshal Bill Denton's office, and checked to make sure that his
gun was resting easy in its holster before he entered.

Denton wasn't in
sight, but there was a young deputy on duty, and when he saw
Longarm stroll through the door he paled.

"Hello there,
young fella!" Longarm flashed his badge.  "Deputy Marshal Custis
Long from the Denver office.  And what would your name
be?"

The deputy, who
had been reclining in an office chair, jumped to his feet, hand
moving toward his six-gun.

"Whoa!" Longarm
called, his own gun flashing up to draw a bead on the man.  "Now
what the hell is the matter with you?  Haven't we got enough
trouble with train robbers without trying to shoot each
other?"

The deputy
gulped.  He was a tall, gangly fella with peach fuzz on his
pimpled cheeks and a protruding Adam's apple that was bobbing up
and down with fear.

"Yes,
sir!"

"Well, then, sit
back down and let's get acquainted," Longarm said, returning his
six-gun to its holster and resting his Winchester against a
wall.  "Where is Marshal Denton?"

"He's in the
hospital, Mr. Long!  You beat the shit out of him and when he
fell off that loading dock, he screwed up his back."

"Damn," Longarm
said, "I am genuinely sorry about that.  I hope he isn't froze up
or anything."

"No, he's not
froze but he's in some pain.  Doctor says you also broke his nose
and cracked his jaw.  He's going to be out of commission for a
couple of months."

"Damn," Longarm
repeated.  "I didn't realize that he'd taken that fight so
hard."

"What fight?  From
what I hear, he never got in a punch.  And believe me, no one has
ever whipped Marshal Denton in a fair fight."

"There isn't such
a thing as a 'fair fight,' " Longarm said.  "I'll bet you that
Marshal Denton has pistol-whipped plenty of men or dropped them
with a single punch."

"Yeah, sure!  But
he's the marshal!"

"He was in serious
need of a lesson in manners," Longarm said.  "You see, we're all
in this together.  And unless a man who wears the badge proves
himself incompetent or corrupt, there's an unspoken rule that we
treat each other with courtesy and respect.  Your marshal broke
that rule, and when he laid his hand on me, I had little choice
but to teach him a hard, hard lesson."

"Well, he's going
to kill you when he can get up and walk."

Longarm clucked
his tongue.  "I don't know how men like Denton ever last in
government service.  And as for 'killing me,' well, I'll just
face that if and when it happens."

"It'll
happen."

"Maybe."  Longarm
sat down heavily.  "I always thought that a man should not worry
too much about the future.  Most of our fears never materialize.
Those that do aren't ever as bad as we expect them to
be."

Longarm smiled
disarmingly.  "Now, what is your name?"

"Deputy Ronald
Dudley."

"Glad to meet you,
Ron.  We have our work cut out for us on this railroad case. 
Have you been up to Donner Pass to see the damage?"

"No.  The marshal
told me that he was going to go up there with you, but ... well,
he won't be even getting out of the hospital for a
while."

"the man should
have been up there hours after the wreck, looking for clues or
leads."

"Reno is a pretty
wild town, Mr. Long."

"Custis.  You call
me Custis."

"Yes, sir.  Well,
Custis, there are just the two of us and this is a tough
town."

"No tougher than
Rock Springs or Cheyenne and they only have one lawman." Longarm
frowned.  "Ron, we need to get up to Donner Pass first thing. 
When does the next train leave?"

"In about fifteen
minutes.  It's the same one that you rode in on.  It's still got
to get over the hump before it ends its run in
Sacramento."

Longarm was hungry
and tired, but he knew that he could not afford to delay this
trip for even a day.  "Grab your coat and let's go,
Ron.

"I can't leave
here now!  There's no one else to keep a lid on this town! Why,
what if someone robbed the bank?  Or there was a
murder?"

"If it happens, it
happens and we'll just have to take care of it when we
return."

"Dammit!  I just
can't go!"

Longarm could see
that the young man was determined to remain at his desk no matter
what.  "All right," he said, "I'll go on up myself and see if
there is anything left worth noting.  Have you had any snow or
rain since the derailment?"

"One storm came
through and dropped a few inches of snow."

"Well, then, I'm
probably wasting my time even going up there, but I'd better do
it anyway.  I'll leave my bags here since I haven't had time to
check into a room."

"They'll be
safe."

"I wonder,"
Longarm said, making it clear that he was not the least bit
impressed with the deputy.

As he started out
the door on his way back to the train, Ron called out, "There's a
railroad official handling the investigation from their side of
things.  He is definitely the man you want to talk
to!"

Longarm stopped in
the doorway and turned.  "What's his name and where can I find
him?"

"His name is Bruce
Pettibone.  I never even met the man, but I'm told he can be
found at Donner Pass or else at the railroad's western
headquarters in Sacramento."

"Thanks," Longarm
said.

"Will you report
what you found?"  Ron smiled weakly.  "Marshal Denton is going to
want to know what you're up to."

"Why?  So he can
back-shoot me when he's able to crawl out of his hospital
bed?"

"He's a better man
than that," Ron said defensively.  "You two just got off on the
wrong foot."

"No," Longarm
corrected, "I offered him my hand in friendship and cooperation
and he looked at me like some kind of bug.  He didn't ask me to
come with him, he ordered me.  Men like your boss never seem to
learn that you get along better in life when you treat people as
equals.  Wouldn't you agree, Deputy Dudley?"

Ron blushed and
dipped his pointy chin.