Free Longarm #398 : Longarm and the Range War (9781101553701) by Tabor Evans Page B

there. Longarm tracked DeCaro down in Samuel Johnson’s mercantile. The young hostler was arranging for the import of a load of horseshoe nails.
    â€œWhere do those have to come from?” Longarm asked.
    â€œCheyenne,” DeCaro told him.
    â€œPretty much everything has to come up from Cheyenne,” Johnson said. “The railroad, you see. We have goods shipped by rail to Cheyenne then carted up here by bull trains or the smaller items on the stagecoach.”
    â€œThat makes sense,” Longarm said. “Y’know, while I think about it, I have a question for you, Mr. Johnson.”
    â€œSam,” the man corrected. “Everyone calls me Sam.”
    â€œAll right then, Sam. You handle freight orders here, I take it, just like you handle the stagecoach business?”
    â€œThat’s right, I do.”
    â€œThen do you happen to know how the Basques are armed? I noticed a lot of modern repeating rifles in that camp.”
    â€œIs this an official inquiry?” Johnson asked. “Because I shouldn’t tell you if it isn’t. Privacy and all that.”
    â€œIt’s official,” Longarm said.
    â€œAll right then. Yes, I handled the freight order for that. Two cases of rifles at twenty-eight dollars each . . . I made a fair profit on those, if I do say so . . . and four cases of .44-40 ammunition. All of it prepaid by a gentleman named Wisner. I don’t know anything about him, though, or why he would be arming those Basques.”
    â€œThey work for Wisner,” Longarm said.
    â€œThat explains it then.”
    â€œAnd the Mexicans?” Longarm asked. “Have they armed themselves too?”
    â€œNot through me, they haven’t. I sell them some shotgun shells and loose powder and percussion caps but nothing in any volume,” Johnson said.
    â€œThey haven’t loaded up with firearms the way the Basques have,” DeCaro put in. “They just have what they normally carry to keep predators away from their goats.”
    â€œSo if it came to a war, the Basques would likely win?” Longarm asked.
    DeCaro frowned in thought then said, “Maybe. There’s more Mexicans than there are Basques, but the Basques are better armed. The Mexican boys are used to fighting. They’ve had more than enough of it down their way. They can handle themselves if it comes to a scrap. I don’t know about the Basques. Don’t know anything about how it is where they come from. In my opinion I think it could go either way.”
    â€œWhat about you, Sam? What do you think?”
    â€œDon’t ask me, Marshal. I stay strictly neutral about things like this.”
    Longarm thought about saying And you’ll sell arms to either side as long as you get your profit on the deal , but he put a brake on his tongue. Instead he said, “Anthony, I’d like to have a word with you when you’re done here.”
    â€œSure thing, Marshal.”
    â€œI’ll wait on one o’ those handsome benches over by the courthouse,” Longarm said.
    â€œFine. I’ll meet you there. Won’t be but a minute and I’ll be finished with my business.”
    Longarm touched the brim of his Stetson toward Johnson, then turned and headed across the street toward the McConnell County Courthouse and the privacy of the public square, where no one was apt to be close when he spoke with DeCaro.

Chapter 22
    Longarm scarcely had time to finish a cheroot before DeCaro showed up and sat on the bench beside him.
    â€œSorry if I kept you waiting too long,” the young hostler said.
    Longarm grinned. “Not at all. I sat here an’ watched some fine-looking women out for their daily shopping.”
    â€œDwyer does seem to have some uncommonly good-looking women,” DeCaro said, “but all the really good-looking ones are married.”
    â€œNow, that, son, is a damned shame.”
    â€œWhat is it you wanted to see me about,