just as
Longarm had anticipated, he'd made sure that he followed the
horse with the broken shoe. It was an easy track to follow, and
Longarm was pinning all his hopes on being able to locate the
animal and then its owner. If he could just nab one of the train
robbers, he might be able to get a confession leading to the
arrest of the entire gang.
The track he had
chosen to follow, however, became obliterated at the edge of
Laramie, where it was trampled and churned under by heavy wagon
and horse traffic. Longarm sighed with resignation. He knew he
had been unrealistic in his hope that the track would be plainly
visible all the way into town, but still, he needed some break in
this case.
At the edge of
town, Longarm drew his horse to a standstill and considered his
options for a moment. Actually, there was only one--he had to
find the horse with the broken shoe before it was reshod and his
only clue was lost.
"Best go see the
town's blacksmiths," he said to himself, thinking that the train
robber had to be aware that his horse needed to be
reshod.
Unfortunately,
there were three blacksmiths operating in Laramie. Longarm made
it a Point to visit them all. The first blacksmith had just
closed his business and moved to California, but the second
blacksmith was hard at work when Longarm arrived on his sweaty
sorrel.
"Morning," he said
to the man, who was in the middle of shoeing a horse. "I'm Deputy
U.S. Marshal Custis Long. Fella up the street told me that your
name is Ned Rowe."
"Whoever he was
talks too damned much."
The horse being
shod was acting up and the blacksmith was clearly angry. "Can't
you see that I'm right in the middle of a horse that's about to
raise holy hell!"
"I can see that,"
Longarm said. "So why don't you put his foot down and step back
for a minute. I've got a couple of questions I'd like to
ask."
"You may be a
federal officer, but you don't pay my rent," the blacksmith
growled. "So if you got anything to say, say it while I'm
tacking on this shoe. I ain't got no time to waste on free talk,
DePutY."
"Mister, I don't
see how you stay in business with such a chip on your
shoulder."
The blacksmith
glared at Longarm. "If you had to shoe as many ornery horses and
mules as I do each day to make a living, you'd have better things
to do than to waste people's time. Now, I ain't seen your badge
yet."
Longarm gritted
his teeth to keep from increasing the immediate dislike he and
the blacksmith had taken to each other. He summoned up enough
patience to show the man his badge, which he did not routinely
keep on display. Like most things, Longarm had a good reason for
keeping his badge out of sight most of the time. He'd known
desperate and hunted outlaws to actually draw their guns and
shoot badge-toters without warning.
"That satisfy you,
or do I have to find your sheriff and make things
ugly?"
"Whoa!" the
blacksmith yelled, jumping back as the horse he was shoeing tried
to rear. "Goddamn you jug-headed sonofabitch!"
"You haven't got
much patience, have you?" Longarm drawled as the blacksmith
jerked on the horse's lead rope and tried to discipline it to
shoeing.
The blacksmith
took a swing at the horse, but missed and crashed to the
ground.
Suppressing a
smile, Longarm said, "Mr. Rowe, it's plain to see that the animal
is scared. Give him a few minutes to settle down and talk to him
gentle and I'll bet he'd behave himself. Save you both some
considerable wear and tear."
"Do you want to
shoe this miserable bastard?"
"Nope."
"Then what the
hell do you want?"
Longarm could see
that this man was in a bad state of mind and nothing but a fight
and a good whipping would correct Ned Rowe's poor way of
thinking. "Well, to begin with, I want to know if that horse was
brought in with a broken right shoe."
"Nope." Rowe
yanked on the horse's lead rope again. "So why are you asking
such a foolish question?"
"I'm looking for a
horse with a broken right shoe. Probably a
Longarm had anticipated, he'd made sure that he followed the
horse with the broken shoe. It was an easy track to follow, and
Longarm was pinning all his hopes on being able to locate the
animal and then its owner. If he could just nab one of the train
robbers, he might be able to get a confession leading to the
arrest of the entire gang.
The track he had
chosen to follow, however, became obliterated at the edge of
Laramie, where it was trampled and churned under by heavy wagon
and horse traffic. Longarm sighed with resignation. He knew he
had been unrealistic in his hope that the track would be plainly
visible all the way into town, but still, he needed some break in
this case.
At the edge of
town, Longarm drew his horse to a standstill and considered his
options for a moment. Actually, there was only one--he had to
find the horse with the broken shoe before it was reshod and his
only clue was lost.
"Best go see the
town's blacksmiths," he said to himself, thinking that the train
robber had to be aware that his horse needed to be
reshod.
Unfortunately,
there were three blacksmiths operating in Laramie. Longarm made
it a Point to visit them all. The first blacksmith had just
closed his business and moved to California, but the second
blacksmith was hard at work when Longarm arrived on his sweaty
sorrel.
"Morning," he said
to the man, who was in the middle of shoeing a horse. "I'm Deputy
U.S. Marshal Custis Long. Fella up the street told me that your
name is Ned Rowe."
"Whoever he was
talks too damned much."
The horse being
shod was acting up and the blacksmith was clearly angry. "Can't
you see that I'm right in the middle of a horse that's about to
raise holy hell!"
"I can see that,"
Longarm said. "So why don't you put his foot down and step back
for a minute. I've got a couple of questions I'd like to
ask."
"You may be a
federal officer, but you don't pay my rent," the blacksmith
growled. "So if you got anything to say, say it while I'm
tacking on this shoe. I ain't got no time to waste on free talk,
DePutY."
"Mister, I don't
see how you stay in business with such a chip on your
shoulder."
The blacksmith
glared at Longarm. "If you had to shoe as many ornery horses and
mules as I do each day to make a living, you'd have better things
to do than to waste people's time. Now, I ain't seen your badge
yet."
Longarm gritted
his teeth to keep from increasing the immediate dislike he and
the blacksmith had taken to each other. He summoned up enough
patience to show the man his badge, which he did not routinely
keep on display. Like most things, Longarm had a good reason for
keeping his badge out of sight most of the time. He'd known
desperate and hunted outlaws to actually draw their guns and
shoot badge-toters without warning.
"That satisfy you,
or do I have to find your sheriff and make things
ugly?"
"Whoa!" the
blacksmith yelled, jumping back as the horse he was shoeing tried
to rear. "Goddamn you jug-headed sonofabitch!"
"You haven't got
much patience, have you?" Longarm drawled as the blacksmith
jerked on the horse's lead rope and tried to discipline it to
shoeing.
The blacksmith
took a swing at the horse, but missed and crashed to the
ground.
Suppressing a
smile, Longarm said, "Mr. Rowe, it's plain to see that the animal
is scared. Give him a few minutes to settle down and talk to him
gentle and I'll bet he'd behave himself. Save you both some
considerable wear and tear."
"Do you want to
shoe this miserable bastard?"
"Nope."
"Then what the
hell do you want?"
Longarm could see
that this man was in a bad state of mind and nothing but a fight
and a good whipping would correct Ned Rowe's poor way of
thinking. "Well, to begin with, I want to know if that horse was
brought in with a broken right shoe."
"Nope." Rowe
yanked on the horse's lead rope again. "So why are you asking
such a foolish question?"
"I'm looking for a
horse with a broken right shoe. Probably a
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