Longarm and the Stagecoach Robbers by Tabor Evans

right. But it will be a few days before he is up and around again.”
    Longarm stepped closer. “What happened?”
    The doctor gave him a wary look. “It’s all right, Doc,” Charlie said. “He’s a deputy United States marshal. You can tell him. And tell me, too.”
    â€œIt was before the prizefight last evening,” the doctor said. “Will was visiting, uh, he was visiting . . .”
    â€œIt’s all right, Doc. I know all about Maybelle’s and that Will likes to visit there sometimes.”
    â€œYes, well, Will was at Maybelle’s just like you guessed, and he got into an argument. Not much of an argument the way I heard it. The other party pulled out a pistol and shot Will in the leg. He lost a lot of blood, but he will recover. It will be a few days before he can get out of bed, I think, and then he will be on crutches for a few weeks.”
    â€œOh, Lord,” Charlie said, turning pale. “Without Will . . .” She stood up straighter and braced herself. “I’ll just have to do it all myself. But, oh, I don’t know how to drive a team at all, much less a four-horse hitch.”
    â€œI know the route,” Longarm said quickly. “I can drive until he gets upright again.”
    She gave him the sort of look he imagined a drowning man might give to his rescuer. “It would mean the difference between us staying in business or going under,” she said.
    â€œI want t’ be on the coach anyway in order t’ catch those mail robbers. After all, that’s what I came up here for. This just puts me in a better position t’ do my job. Now if you’ll excuse me, I got to go make up that hitch an’ bring the coach around to the front.”

Chapter 24
    It was a good thing Longarm had been paying attention when Will made up the team on those days the past week. Even so, it took him some time to sort out which horse should go where and how the various driving lines should be distributed. Finally he thought he had it right, hooked the traces, and climbed onto the top deck.
    He took a deep breath and muttered a little prayer then took up contact with the horses’ bits and shook the lines. “Hyup, boys. Hyup.”
    Damned if they didn’t move out for him just like he knew what he was doing. Fortunately the team knew enough to make up for what Longarm lacked when it came to driving a four-up. But he knew good and well that if the team had been a six-horse hitch, he would have been worse than useless up there on the driving box.
    He wheeled the coach around to the front of the Carver Express Company office and pulled to a halt there.
    â€œSorry for the delay, folks. We’ve had a little problem, but we’re all right now. Let me help you with those bags, an’ we’ll get under way,” he called down to the impatient and by now irate passengers.
    He climbed down, loaded up the luggage and a package for the Bailey postmaster, helped the passengers into the coach, then made the climb up on top again.
    Longarm tipped his hat to Charlise, who gave him a grateful look. Then he picked up the driving lines and, taking another deep breath, put the team in motion.
    He was not sure about popping the whip to get them racing out of town. It would have ruined his day—and ruined the team for their future cooperation—if he accidentally nicked an ear with the popper, so he left the whip in its socket and drove with the lines alone.
    It surprised him how much raw power was coming off those horses and being transmitted to his hands. Surprised him, too, how tiring the driving was, wearing on his shoulders and making his fingers ache.
    Come nightfall, he was going to need a stiff drink and perhaps an application of liniment. Or two. Of each.
    By the time they reached Guffey, he hoped the mail robbers would not show themselves during this trip because he was not at all certain he would be