Longarm and the Yuma Prison (14 page)

Finally, the trial was almost over. Judge Peter Hamilton, the Yuma jury, and dozens of spectators had packed the baking courtroom and intently listened to a muddy-faced but determined Loretta describe how Tom Ray had acted in self-defense.

“They drew first and they were cheating him and that pair of poor miners,” she said. “In my opinion, Mr. Tom Ray should have been awarded a
medal
instead of sent to prison.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, mopping their sweaty faces. Tom Ray was smiling from ear to ear and that smile stayed plastered to his face when federal judge Peter Hamilton said, “Has the jury reached a verdict?”

“Not guilty!” all the jurors shouted.

“Then by the authority given to me by the United States of America I declare you, Tom Ray, absolved off all charges and a free man!”

The packed courthouse erupted in cheers and a woman with a face flushed by the heat fainted dead away. Everyone cleared out fast and Longarm stood back to watch the pair of prison guards unshackle the man and shake his hand. Kent Hamilton hugged his brother and then his new father-in-law.

“I want to see Jessica! I want to see my girl!” Tom Ray shouted.

“We're going to her right now,” her husband yelled as he led the newly freed man out of the courtroom.

For a full minute, Tom Ray just stood on the front steps of the courthouse smiling and breathing in the hot and free air.

“I want my gold mine back,” he said to Kent.

“Of course, but it has run dry.”

Ray frowned. “Are you sure of that?”

“Yes, sir. But we're going to attach one hell of a lot of assets from Mitch Lang to make up for the gold that was plundered. I promise you'll be satisfied before this is all said and done.”

Tom Ray nodded. “Then I take you at your promise. Truth of the matter is that I was dreading working that damned old mine again and I'm sure that now that Jessica has married you she wouldn't have been too keen on helping.”

“Probably not,” Kent said, trying to hide a smile. “Come on. She's waiting upstairs in the hotel.”

Longarm had taken Loretta back to their room and kissed her good-bye. He'd shaken hands with everyone and it did his heart proud to see how happy the former Denver lawman was to be with his daughter again, even if she was wounded.

“Loretta,” Longarm said, “I have to be after them before they get too great a lead on me.”

“Please . . .”

“You're going to tell me to be careful.”

“Yes! I want to make love to you when you return . . . if you think I'm worthy of doing it . . . I mean, given my past and . . .”

Longarm put his fingers over her mouth. “I'll be back and we'll make love. That's a promise.”

She hugged him so tightly that she nearly broke his neck and then Longarm was flying down the stairs.

“Git them bastards!” Monty shouted from behind the hotel's registration desk.

“I'll do my best,” Longarm yelled back over his shoulder.

 • • • 

Now Longarm was mounting a horse at the Rolling River Stables and the owner was handing him a rifle. “Marshal, you need to just kill 'em both! Don't just arrest 'em and bring 'em back to be tried by a jury. Mr. Lang has enough money to buy the best lawyers in the land and they might get him off the hook.”

“I'm a federal officer sworn to uphold the law, not to execute people no matter how much they deserve it.”

“I know,” the liveryman conceded. “But if Mitch Lang . . . with all his money and influence . . . ever gets a toehold back in this town, anyone who stood against him this day will be ruthlessly killed or destroyed. You understand what I'm saying?”

“I completely understand,” Longarm told the man. “Thanks for the loan of the rifle and the ammunition.”

“Use it all up on them two bastards! Don't waste a single bullet.”

“I'll do my best.”

The liveryman patted the horse he'd selected for Longarm. “This paint is the fastest and toughest animal I ever owned. He won't quit on you and he'll run until he drops.”

“Thanks.”

Longarm was eager to get into the saddle and head out after Lang and Beeson, but the liveryman really wanted to talk.

“Marshal, I was in the courtroom today and when I heard those shots outside from the rooftop, I just knew that you and Loretta were dead. Then, when the three of you marched in with mud all over your faces and clothes . . . I couldn't believe my eyes. Neither could anyone else. That's when everyone started yelling and stomping and shouting in celebration.”

“I'll have to admit it was quite a boisterous reception,” Longarm agreed.

“Marshal, my guess is that they headed across the river and hope to overtake the westbound train for San Diego,” the liveryman said. “It went through here right after the shooting and if they catch it you may never capture them two evil sons o' bitches.”

“I'll catch them no matter how far or fast they run.”

“Just be careful crossing the Colorado River. There's a place about a quarter mile north of the train trestle and it's where people cross when they have to get into California. The water is going to be high and dangerous, but this pony you're taking can damn sure swim. Go to that place if you need to cross over.”

“Thanks for the warning. Where is the next train stop rolling west from here?”

“That would be Holtville and I never been there and I'd guess it would be about sixty miles . . . but all desert and it's just a whistle stop where they take on water and wood.”

“Well,” Longarm said, “I sure hope I don't have to ride that far after those two.”

“Here, take a couple of extra canteens.” The liveryman ran into a tack room and hurried back with two large canteens. “Fill 'em up when you're crossin' the river and don't let that fine horse I'm lending you get bit by a snake or his wind broken plowing through them gawdamn California sand dunes.”

“I won't.”

“Shoot them on sight, Marshal. Because if they spot you first, you can damn sure betcha that's what they'll do!”

Longarm nodded with understanding and rode out of the stable and through town. He saw Loretta standing on the courthouse steps surrounded by newfound friends and they all waved. Loretta called out something to him but Longarm couldn't hear her words over the hard pounding of his horse's shod hooves.

 • • • 

Beeson and Lang had crossed the river into California, probably by running on foot over the train trestle and then finding horses to buy or rent. Longarm made the river crossing where he'd been told, but once in California he had to spend ten or fifteen minutes before anyone could actually point him in the direction that the Yuma fugitives had taken. Lang and Beeson had not dared to cross the desert and reach Holtville. Instead, they'd galloped south crossing an unmarked border into old Mexico and staying close to the west bank of the Colorado River. Their tracks were very fresh and Longarm knew that he could overtake them before it got dark.

At sundown he saw Lang and Beeson less than a mile up ahead, and when they finally realized Longarm was closing in, they tried to cross the river again. But down in Mexico, the farmers had already siphoned off a lot of the river onto their carefully tended fields and now the Colorado was shallow and treacherous with sandbars.

Longarm wasn't yet in rifle range when he saw Lang's horse flounder in quicksand. The man shouted a warning to Beeson, but it was too late. Both horses quickly sank to their bellies, wildly pawing and fighting for a footing not to be found. But the animals sank only so far and then they were stuck, unable to move except for their heads, which they kept waving helplessly. Longarm knew that by tomorrow some Mexican farmer would see the trapped saddled horses. He would round up more men and some mules and ropes. And in a short time, the two mired-down saddle horses would be pulled free and some poor Mexican peasant would have been gifted beyond his wildest dreams.

Longarm rode to the very edge of the muddy, slow-moving river fully aware that he had no authority in Mexico to exact American justice. Down here below the border it was every man for himself.

Longarm dragged the Winchester out of his saddle scabbard. He tied his fine horse and walked a few dozen yards south along the bank so that any shots fired back at him would not hit his pinto. He saw a fish jump into the sunset and splash a miniature golden rainbow.

Longarm stretched out on the warm Mexican sand and used his thumb to ease his ruined hat back just a little on his sweating forehead. The sun was to his back, diving into the western hills. His targets were to the east and now abandoning their poor horses while trying to escape to the opposite shore.

Longarm watched the two Yuma men struggle and decided not to give them the chance to reach the opposite riverbank. They were both fighting the quicksand and he could hear their anguished grunting over the sounds of evening birds flitting through the sage and water-loving cottonwood trees.

The pair were exhausted from the struggles and made very easy targets.

Longarm rested his rifle on a sun-bleached log, settled into the warm sand, and took careful aim.

He didn't waste any ammunition because he didn't miss.

Watch for

LONGARM AND THE SONORA SIREN

the 426
th
novel in the exciting LONGARM series from Jove

Coming in May!