Free Train From Marietta by Dorothy Garlock Page A

thing I got out of the man was that there were a couple of strangers hanging around the Simon station with Katherine. The baggage handler got the best look at them. Said one was a cowboy, but that the other one really stood out. Some dandy in a striped suit who looked like a salesman, but he never tried to sell anything in Simon, never even opened up his case. Something doesn’t quite sit right with me about those two. Could be just a coincidence, but I’ve got a missing woman’s father asking for help, and I’m gonna check out every possibility.”
    “Wait a minute,” Tate said. “What day was this?”
    “Last Thursday.”
    The last piece of the puzzle was filled in, and the realization hit Tate square in the chest. “It was me. I was the cowboy at the station.”
    “What?” Lyle practically jumped out of the chair.
    “I’d been up at Fort Davis cutting a deal for our horses. I came south to Simon and was waiting to catch the train from Marietta,” Tate explained, his mind searching back to that night. “The depot agent was right. There were two other people on the platform with me. A young woman and a man with a wooden case. I guess he could have been a salesman, but I didn’t get much of a look at him. It was dark, and he stayed to the other side of the platform. The woman wasn’t traveling with him. It didn’t look like they knew each other.”
    “What luck!” Lyle said. Even in the near darkness, Tate could see his bright preacher’s smile. “Did she say anything to you?”
    “She asked me if the train was on time,” Tate answered, the calamity of the woman’s bag left unspoken. “That’s all.”
    “Still, you’ve seen her. Did you see where she got off?”
    “No. When we got on the train, I went ahead to the next car. When I arrived at Muddy Creek, I looked into her car, but I didn’t see her. Didn’t see the salesman either.”
    “Between Simon and Muddy Creek,” Lyle mumbled.
    “You think this is the same woman?” Tate asked.
    “It sure looks like it. The big question is where she got off the train. There’s only one stop between Simon and Muddy Creek.”
    “No. There’s two,” Tate corrected the Texas Ranger. “The Texas and New Orleans’ scheduled stop is in Los Rios, but it also stops at the midway watering tank. Whoever kidnapped her wouldn’t have tried to take her off at Los Rios; too many people would be on the platform. That leaves the midway watering tank.”
    “You’re right.” Lyle lit the cigar he pulled out of his breast pocket and smoked in silence for a few moments. Finally he said, “I guess it’s time for me to ask you that favor, old friend. What I’d like is for you to go down to that watering tank and see if you can pick up anything. If that salesman was involved, I doubt if he’d be the kind of man that was much used to horses. That means they’d have had to take her out by car. Cars leave tracks.”
    Mulling over the request, Tate was silent for quite a while. Finally he gave his answer. “Well, I guess I can do that much for you, Lyle. I just don’t want to find myself tangled up with any more rustlers or outlaws. I have to think about Emily.”
    “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Lyle said with his reassuring smile. Some folks might think that the smile wasn’t real, but Tate knew better. “You’re not that much different than John Tyler. He’s a fine man who’s worried sick about his own daughter.”
    “Sounds like Hayden,” Jorge said from the steps. He’d been silent up until now, but Tate knew that his foreman had a keen mind and had been listening to every word. “If he around, may be a part of it.”
    “You’re right, Jorge,” Lyle said gravely. “This is just the type of thing that would draw Hayden. Just like a fly to shit. If that salesman fella is the type of man I think he is, he’d need help finding his way out of a cardboard box, let alone Big Bend country. If he took Miss Tyler, he’d need help from someone