Longarm - Longarm On The Fever Coast Part 7

He yawned again, snubbed out his barely smoked cheroot, and said, "I ain't sure solitary confinement makes him tougher for his pals to bust out, if that's who's been shooting at me lately. I know bread and water ain't what Doc Richards would prescribe for a recovering fever victim, if he's recovered worth s.h.i.+t. Meanwhile, as the song says, farther along we'll know more about it. If I gave you my gun do you reckon you could guard me from a.s.sa.s.sination whilst I caught at least an hour's sleep?"

Gilbert nodded, but as Longarm stood to remove his hat and gun rig told him, "You can catch three or four, if you like. They don't serve supper around here before they blow horns and lower the flag around sundown. Miss Norma ain't never got back any earlier."

He might have said more. But Longarm closed his eyes before he'd finished flopping atop the covers of the empty cot, and the next thing he knew it seemed old Ruby had forgiven him after all. So he hauled her down atop him and kissed her good before he noticed she had a far bigger left t.i.t and had pulled back mighty quickly while somewhere in the gloom young Gilbert seemed to be laughing like h.e.l.l.

Then Longarm got his bearings, smiled sheepishly up at the red-faced Norma Richards, and said, "Sorry, ma'am. I thought you were somebody else."

Norma was fl.u.s.tered. "That seems obvious! I was only bending over to feel your brow. Your Deputy Gilbert here seems well enough to laugh like a hyena, if not fit to lead a charge uphill. I just came from the brig. But they wouldn't let me in to check on Mister Baldwin. They say he's to stay locked up alone until he learns better manners. Can they do that to even a rude civilian, Custis?"

Longarm swung his boots to the floor and held out his hand to Gilbert for his gun rig as he growled, "No. But it may take some convincing. They wouldn't let me at the Winchester you stored away for me out here either. Do you reckon I could have it now?"

Gilbert chortled, "Hot d.a.m.n! Are we going to bust him out at gunpoint, pard?"

Longarm said, "Nope. I want you to stay here. Miss Norma and me are only going to feed him and take his temperature if the Coast Guard knows what's good for it."

He strapped on his gun, put on his hat, and told Norma he was ready whenever she was.

The Junoesque bacteriologist led the way, but told him she hoped he wasn't serious about armed conflict with the U.S. Coast Guard, as they strode along the veranda of the long building. He said it wasn't for him to say. It was up to them whether they wanted to let him at his own confounded federal prisoner or not.

They got to the last door down, and Norma unlocked it with a key from an ap.r.o.n pocket. It was dark inside with the sun way down in the western sky. But there was enough tiger-stripe light coming in through the jalousie shutters for him to make out his McClellan at the foot of the bedstead where she'd draped it over the rail. The walnut stock of his Winchester '73 saddle gun stood somewhat higher. So he hauled it from its boot and told her, "You'd best wait here a few minutes. If you don't hear shooting within ten, come on over to the brig. You'll know they let me in without a war."

She got between him and the door, pleading, "Please don't fight them, Custis. That horrid outlaw just isn't worth it. I'd tell you what he said to me the last time I tried to examine him, but you do seem mad enough already!"

He told her politely but firmly, "I ain't looking for no fight. I already knew Clay Baldwin was a worthless skunk. They sent me to bring him and young Gilbert back. They never said they wanted either of 'em dead. So stand aside and give me ten, like I said, if you don't want me grabbing you by that swell t.i.t again."

It worked. She crawfished out of his way, blus.h.i.+ng like a rose as she told him he was horrid. So he just strode on out, levering a round in the chamber of his Winchester as he crossed the parade with the weapon held at port.

They must have expected something like that at the guard post to the north. A chief petty officer and eight guardsmen wearing leggings, S.P. armbands, and Spencer repeaters seemed to be lined up between him and his intended goal.

Longarm stopped at easy pistol range to proclaim, "I'd be U.S. Deputy Marshal Custis Long, and I understand you're holding my own sweet federal prisoner in that brig behind YOU."

The C.P.O., who stood almost as tall and twice as wide as Longarm, replied in a politely firm tone, "We are, and that's where he's to remain until Lieutenant Flynn says different."

Longarm replied, just as firmly if not as politely, "I don't aim to take him off with me without your C.O.'s official release in writing. I only want to make sure he leaves here alive, and I understand you as much as told his attending physician to go jump in the lagoon."

The burly Coast Guard noncom chuckled wistfully and replied, "I'd be proud to go swimming with a gal built so swell. But that ain't what we suggested. We only told her the lieutenant told us the prisoner's to have one jar of water and two slices of white bread per diem, and no visitors until further notice."

Longarm said, "d.a.m.n it. n.o.body wants to visit with the son of a b.i.t.c.h. I want to question him and Doc Richards wants to take his d.a.m.n temperature!"

The C.P.O. nodded. "She already told us. We ain't trying to be mean to n.o.body, Deputy. It's just that we got orders and, well, orders are orders, see?"

Longarm said, "I got my orders too. So would you kindly order your men out of my way and unlock the d.a.m.ned door before somebody gets hurt?"

The C.P.O. laughed incredulously. "We heard they were sending a famous gunfighter of the civilian persuasion, Longarm. Do you really think you can get by my pistol and eight rifles with one saddle gun?"

Longarm shrugged modestly and said, "I got this six-gun at my side as well, and this Winchester fires fifteen times before I have to reload it. So make your point."

It got sort of quiet as the sun sank lower and a color guard came marching out across the parade behind Longarm's back. Then a distant female voice called out, "Custis! Stop that! That steam cutter just tied up out at the end of the pier and Lieutenant Flynn will be ash.o.r.e any minute!"

Longarm and the burly N.C.O. stared silently at one another for a time. Then the Coast Guardsman said, "We ain't backing down. But this does seem a dumb time to settle it the noisy way."

Longarm replied, "Great minds seem to run in the same channels. So I reckon we'll never know who'd have won, unless your lieutenant is a really dedicated a.s.shole."

To which the C.P.O. replied with a surprisingly boyish laugh, "Oh, I know who'd have won, and be it recorded it was your idea, not mine, to call Lieutenant Flynn an a.s.shole."

Some of the others were grinning in the sunset's red rays as behind him they started to lower the flag. So Longarm turned about on one heel to remove his hat and stand at attention with the c.o.c.ked Winchester down to one side, sincerely hoping he might not have to gun any of those nice kids.

CHAPTER 11.

Longarm had been braced for a seagoing version of a pompous army officer he'd knocked down one time. But Lieutenant Flynn, who'd have been a captain in the army, turned out to be a sandy-haired and politely poker-faced cuss with eyes the same shade of gray as two oysters on the half sh.e.l.l going stale.

When Norma Richards brought him over, Flynn said it was jake with him if they wanted to listen to Clay Baldwin cuss. As that C.P.O. opened up, the lieutenant said he'd have the mess attendants save his civilian guests some supper, and turned away to go eat his own.

Longarm forgave the Coast Guard a lot when he finally got in to Baldwin's solitary cell with Norma and a lamp. Clay Baldwin didn't look like an owlhoot rider wanted for murder and grand larceny. He looked like some actor made up for the part of the village idiot in his ill-fitting duds and half-sprouted beard. As they entered, Baldwin leered at Norma and asked her, "Been getting any p.r.o.nging of late, Chubby? If you ain't, I got eight inches I'd just love to have you skin for me with your tight little t.w.a.t!"

Longarm snapped, "Knock it off, Baldwin. I ain't gonna say that twice."

Baldwin grinned lewdly. "Aw, have I insulted your own play-pretty, Uncle Sam? Don't worry. I ain't greedy. You can have my sloppy seconds after I show her what a real man has to offer."

And then he was flat on his a.s.s in a far corner with a split lip as Longarm rubbed his knuckles thoughtfully and muttered, "Next time you get kicked. Guess where."

So Baldwin mentioned his b.a.l.l.s in front of a lady, and howled like a kicked pup when Longarm kicked him there as promised.

Norma gasped, "For heaven's sake, can't you see he's crazy? Don't mistreat him further on my account. You should hear what some men call me when they're delirious with fever back in town!"

Longarm said, "This one ain't feverish. He's what we call a jail house lawyer. what's misled him about what we can or can't do to a federal prisoner. Are you listening to me, you poor misled or just plain stupid rascal?"

Holding himself by the b.a.l.l.s with both legs drawn up as he lay on one side on the concrete, Baldwin whimpered, "d.a.m.n it, Longarm, you ain't allowed to torture me. It says so in the Const.i.tution!"

Longarm smiled down at him and replied, not unkindly, "Try sa.s.sing Judge d.i.c.kerson of the Denver District Court, once I get you back to him, if you'd like to see some cruel and unusual punishment. Are you ready to act like a grown man now, or would you like me to hold you down while the doc here gives you an enema for your own good?"

Norma blushed like h.e.l.l, but laughed and declared, "I think that's a grand idea, Custis. Anyone can see this wayward youth is full of s.h.i.+t!"

So Clay Baldwin allowed he'd as soon behave more properly, and never said anything dirty as Norma took his pulse and temperature, hunkered down beside him in a way that surely made her white skirt tight across her ample but shapely behind.

Longarm waited until Norma took the thermometer out and said he didn't seem to be running a fever now, before he told the mean-eyed cuss, "I'll see you get a decent supper tonight. You'll eat the same as Gilbert and me on the way back to Denver. Whether you ride all the way in leg irons and cuffs or just cuffs is up to you. For as I hope you understand by now, I treat a prisoner no better or no worse than he asks me to."

Baldwin said sullenly he'd only been funning and didn't want to stand trial back in Colorado all busted up. So Longarm nodded and said, "Bueno. Neither you nor Deputy Gilbert will be called upon to do much more than sit as we work our way home by boat and train. So let's hope Gilbert's as frisky as you come morning, and we might be on our way."

When Baldwin didn't argue, Longarm added, "One more thing, though. I've been having repeated problems with some pals of yours, Clay. Hamp G.o.dwynn and Squint Reynolds are both dead."

Baldwin stared thoughtfully up at Longarm, shrugged, and asked, "Am I supposed to cry? Never heard of either of 'em. You say you gunned 'em?"

"Only Reynolds," Longarm modestly replied. "A Ranger got G.o.dwynn up to Corpus Christi. I don't care how you feel about anyone out there in the dark. My point is that should anyone make any try at taking you away from Gilbert and me on the way out of here, you have my word you'll be among the first to die. Doc Richards here can a.s.sure you a really determined cuss can get off more than one good shot with a bullet in his heart. Ain't that right, Doc?"

Norma swallowed and declared, "Some people can remain conscious for as long as four minutes after heart failure. Don't hold me to how rational anyone might feel full of bullets!"

Longarm smiled grimly and said, "There you go, Clay. A bright boy like you ought to see the odds are better in court than in the company of a mighty unrational but highly annoyed cuss holding a gun on you!"

Baldwin wiped his b.l.o.o.d.y lip with the back of one sleeve as he insisted, "I don't know what you're jawing about. I told the boys I might have herded some stock out for parts unknown if I didn't come back with some money poco tiempo. You know I got double-crossed and turned over to the law. I don't know which way the others rode. We planned to split up with just such a conversation as this one in mind. I couldn't find a one of 'em now if I rode out after 'em myself. But I will say I'd be surprised to find any of 'em anywheres near Escondrijo now!"

Longarm said, "I might take your word on that if you could explain what you meant by a double cross. Are you saying you had reason to feel Pryce & Doyle might be in the market for stolen beef?"

Baldwin snorted, "Why, no, I always sell stolen property where I suspect they might call the law on me! Of course I was told that meat-packing outfit sent cold-storage meat to market with neither hides nor brands in evidence! But when I sashayed in to talk money with that prissy Mister Doyle... h.e.l.l, Longarm, you know the rest of my sad story."

Longarm said, "No, I don't. You never said who told you Pryce & Doyle bought stolen beef on the hoof. Would you care to illuminate me on that?"

Baldwin hesitated and then said, "Well, lots of greasers are called... Chino. So I reckon it won't hurt to admit it was one of the boys I met here in Texas, the lying son of a never mind."

Longarm c.o.c.ked a brow and demanded, "Chino, or might it have been Gordo? I've a good reason to ask."

But Baldwin insisted he'd heard Pryce & Doyle peddled stolen beef from another drifter called Chino, and he was right about that being a common enough Mex nickname. So Longarm turned to Norma and suggested they go see about some supper. But she insisted on hauling out some gauze and hunkering down by the prisoner again, observing that his lip should have stopped bleeding by this time if it meant to without any help. So Baldwin allowed, and Longarm agreed, she wasn't such a bad old gal after all.

She was curious as well, asking question after question as they supped together alone in the wardroom after she'd paid another call on young Gilbert and declared him weak but likely on his way to recovery.

As they supped on officer's fare, in this case steak and mashed potatoes with cabbage, Longarm answered her questions until he got tired of talking in circles. "Sure he did," Miss Norma. The man's dishonest by definition. Hardly anyone else knew I was on my way down here, even before that storm blew the telegraph lines down. The gunslicks I've nailed down as dead facts seem cut from the same outlaw cloth as Baldwin. There must have been more than two in his gang if they cut out enough stolen beef to matter. So that'd account for some leftover and even more cowardly sniping."

She poured some canned cream in her coffee, asking if he'd like some before she mentioned that Mexican angle again.

He said, "No, thanks. I like mine black, and I mean to question a Mex called Gordo before our boat leaves, when and if we can book our pa.s.sage out. It works more than one way. A man running a shop next door to a meat packer might know better than most whether they were crooks or not. But why would anyone tell saddle tramps they could sell beef on the hoof there if he knew they couldn't?"

She suggested, "What if he wanted to see them arrested?"

Longarm replied, "I just said that. Only Gordo would know for certain, if he had anything at all to do with it. There's nothing I can do about that tonight. How are we coming with your mysterious plague in town, Miss Norma?"

She sighed and said, "I feel like the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland, running fast as I can to stay in one place. You were awfully sweet to put me to bed like that this morning, by the way. I felt ever so much better after just a few hours of rest and it's just as well. That naughty Ruby seems to have quit on us for reasons of her own, while that Mexican girl, Consuela, seems to be turning into a great little nurse. She's been a G.o.dsend with our Spanish-speaking victims, and we seem to be getting more of them now."

The mess attendant they'd sent to the brig with Baldwin's pork and beans came back to ask if they were ready for dessert. As soon as he went into the kitchen, Longarm said, "I've been studying on that fever going round. It reminds me of an ague they were having down Mexico way when I was tracking another owlhoot rider sort of unofficially. It was up on the central mesa in late fall. They were holding that festival they call the Day of the Dead as I recall. n.o.body I was interested in at the time came down with anything. It was just something you heard folks talking about as they ran all over town acting spooky in skull masks, eating candy skulls and such. They seemed to feel it was unusual to have chills and fever going around at such a time and place."

She sipped her weaker coffee thoughtfully, then mused, "Late autumn in such high, dry country doesn't go too well with the usual outbreaks of ague or malaria. You're certain the victims suffered alternate bouts of high fever and night sweats, followed by aches, pains, s.h.i.+vering, and feelings of utter misery?"

He nodded. "That's about the size of it. Hold it, I think they called it something like malted fever. Like I said, I had other things on my mind at the time."

Norma frowned down at her empty plate. "Malta or Mediterranean fever won't work, I'm afraid. It's true the symptoms are much the same. But you were so right about it being confined to Old Mexico."

He asked, "Is there any law saying a sick Mex suffering this Malta ague couldn't jump the border some dark and windy night to spread it up our way like the pox?"

She sighed. "There is. We've yet to isolate the exact microbe causing Malta fever, but we know it's not transmitted from one human being to another. It's a livestock plague, like hoof-and-mouth. It's endemic to Latin America, like hoof-and-mouth, and so it can stay there the same way. You know no Mexican stock is allowed north of the border unless it's been inspected a lot. The repeated inspections make it hardly worth the effort of trying to compete with beef raised on this side of the border, Custis."

He tried some black coffee. It was good. He said, "I could tell you a tale of cows crossing borders along an outlaw route called the Laredo Loop. But let's stick to real puzzles. How could a human come down with a cow ague if humans can't pa.s.s it on to one another?"

She smiled across the table at him. "From cows, of course. We're not sure how cows, goats, hogs, and other cloven-hoofed creatures pa.s.s Malta fever back and forth. But they do, at least in Mexico and the Mediterranean basin it originated in. Infected stock doesn't seem to suffer quite as much from it, which doubtless keeps it spreading throughout Latin America from some unknown port of entry. Humans somehow catch it from infected stock, and either die or slowly recover from an intermittent fever a lot like the one we've been having up this way. But it can't be Malta fever, Custis!"

He asked, "Why can't it? Because you mean to stamp your pretty foot and say so three times?"

She smiled wearily. "I see you read Alice in Wonderland too. I'll have to read up on Malta fever. At least it's possible, if you can show me someone running infected stock all the way up from Old Mexico. Cows infected with Malta fever don't run so well, and we're at least a hundred miles from the nearest crossing, right?"

Longarm nodded. "About a week's drive, not counting at least some driving to the border from further south. How do you go about catching the fever from some infected cow, Miss Norma?"

She said n.o.body knew, then gasped, "My G.o.d. Clay Baldwin did come down with some fever, after he drove some purloined stock into Escondrijo, just before the town's fever broke out!"

Longarm said, "I noticed. But everybody keeps telling us Baldwin and his boys stole the stock from somewhere closer. How are you at cross-country riding, and can you tell when a critter instead of a human being is coming down with any sort of ague?"

She replied, "I guess I ride all right. I'm not sure how you can ask a cow how it feels. I might be able to diagnose a really sick one, though. What's the plan?"

He finished his coffee. "I got to arrange steamer pa.s.sage out with the telegraph wires still dead. So I'd best ride back to town early, leaving Gilbert and Baldwin out here for the time being. So seeing I got to ride anyways, I figured I'd get an early start and get there a tad later, after swinging wide across the higher cow country just to the west. I want to ask about the brands that meat packer spotted on Baldwin's stolen herd. If you'd care to tag along, you might want to ask how many cows have been feeling poorly in the last few weeks or months."

She grinned like a kid who'd been invited along to swipe apples. "I have the pony and sidesaddle I hired in the stable beyond the brig. When do we start?"

He said, "Crack of dawn. Texas rancheros either shoot at you or insist on feeding you something when you come visiting after sunrise. Show up at this hour and they're more likely to just shoot."

She rose from the table, saying, "If we aim to ride out before breakfast, we'd better turn in early. The lift I got from that nap in town is already wearing off."

He got to his own feet and they went outside. He naturally had to escort a lady across the parade ground in the gathering dusk. So Norma just took his arm without comment, and he had no call to discuss his other plans for the evening with her.

He had to ask the O.D. or somebody where they wanted him to turn in. If push came to shove, he figured he could flop in that empty cot next to Gilbert's again. He wanted to talk some more to Gilbert as well as the officers still up in the wardroom. For while a fairly clear picture was starting to form, there were still some fuzzy details some d.a.m.ned body might have some answers to.

They got back to Norma's door at the end of the officers' quarters' veranda. He didn't expect her to invite him in, and he hadn't taken her to a paid-for supper and vaudeville show. So he figured he'd better not try to kiss her good night, no matter how tempting she was smelling in the balmy night air. So he was more than surprised when it was Norma who hauled him on inside and husked, "Don't strike a match. We don't need any lamplight, and I'd as soon not have anyone gossiping about us, Custis."

Before he could ask what there might be to gossip about she was on tiptoe against him, kissing him in a far from motherly way. So there was plenty to gossip about as soon as he'd swept her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed.

But as he lowered her Junoesque form to the bedspread Longarm felt it only fair to murmur, "You did hear me say I'm fixing to pay three pa.s.sages south on the next coastal steamer, didn't you?"

She murmured back, "I did, and I'll be headed the other way as soon as they repair the telegraph and I can wire for a real medical team to fight that plague. Did you think I'd be this bold with any man if I thought we had time for the usual flowers, books, and candy?"

So seeing she seemed to share some of his own ideas on grabbing life's few bra.s.s rings while the merry-go-round was still going, he just helped her out of her white linens, shucked his own duds, and took her up on her fine offer.

She hissed in mingled anxiety and pleasure as he spread her big thighs and entered her tighter-than-usual but unusually hairy ring-dang-do. The nice thing about gals with big firm b.u.t.ts was that you didn't need to shove a pillow under them to ride just right in their love saddle. She seemed to think they fit together just right too. She commenced to move under him with a skill that belied her girlish remarks about never having met a man so big before. He felt no call to swear she was his first and only. So he just got an elbow under each of her plump knees and proceeded to pound her good as she moaned, "Oh, Jesus! Yes! But I'm not going to fall in love again! I'm not! I'm not! I'm just going to f.u.c.k like a rabbit till I can't f.u.c.k you anymore, you lovely f.u.c.king machine!"

But that wasn't what they were doing a half hour later, according to the orderly who reported in to Lieutenant Flynn, hit a brace, and barely managed not to grin as he said, "Begging the lieutenant's pardon, that civilian lawman you sent me to escort to his guest quarters doesn't seem to need any... of his own."

Flynn stared up from his desk thoughtfully and coldly replied, "Don't beat around the bush with me, Yeoman. Whose quarters did you find him in, if not the ones I just a.s.signed him? There's only one woman on this post and... are you sure?"

The orderly said, "Ay, ay, sir. They couldn't see me as listened through her jalousie slats to make sure. I didn't know she had company, of course, before I heard them in pa.s.sing as I was searching for that deputy as the lieutenant ordered."

Flynn smiled slightly, a rare sight in the yeoman's experience, and asked, "You're certain she hadn't just invited him in for, say, a nightcap, Yeoman?"

His informant said simply, "Begging the lieutenant's pardon, it sounded like she was sucking him off. Would the lieutenant like me to call out the guard now?"

Flynn shook his sandy head without hesitation and purred, "Belay that. They're both civilians, albeit both federal employees. So why don't we give them all the rope they want, and report them to their own superiors as soon as those d.a.m.ned wires are back up."