by Longarm
"Getting hungry?" Starr asked.
"A mite. But you go on with what you're doing. My belly's telling me it's there, but it ain't yelling at me yet."
Starr gave the barrel of his Spencer carbine a final rub with an oil rag, and propped the weapon up beside the bench he was sitting on. "I haven't started dinner yet, because Yazoo usually puts out a line when he takes the boat to make a delivery, and brings back a mess of fish." He looked at Longarm curiously. "You ever remember where you ran into Yazoo before, Windy?"
Longarm shook his head. "Hell, Sam, you know how it is. A man gets around a lot, pretty much moving fast and not staying anyplace too long. He sees a lot of faces. And it ain't likely Yazoo looks like he did, wherever it was we bumped into each other."
"Sure. Not unless it's somebody he's partnered with, or had trouble with." Starr looked obliquely at Longarm. "You didn't have much trouble remembering Mckee."
"Mckee looked just like he did when me and him had our run-in. And when you've got a grudge between you and somebody, you ain't as likely to forget him as you would a man you just bad a drink with, or sat in a poker game with somewhere."
"I guess you know Floyd and Steed are still edgy because you won't give them your real handle."
"I can't say I blame them," Longarm replied. "But I told Floyd I wasn't about to give him anything on me until I had something on him. He ought to understand that."
"Oh, I guess he does. Up to a point. But he's still edgy."
"He'll get over it. I didn't ask him and Steed to take me in on whatever job it is they're cooking up. It was their idea--or Belle's, I disremember which."
"Sounds like Belle's. I don't recall being around when it first came up." He stared challengingly at Longarm and added, "Belle's got a lot on her mind, you know. She's always figuring something out ahead of time, and now and then she'll forget to tell me things."
"How'd you and Belle happen to meet up, Sam?" Longarm asked.
"Jim Reed was a good friend of mine. Cherokee blood in both of us, you know. We were on a few jobs together before Jim and Belle got married. Then, after Jim got killed, it was a while before I saw Belle. And when I did, we hit it off right well, so we married up. You know, while Jim and Belle was married, they stayed on the run most of the time. Down in Texas, here in the Nation, up in Missouri for a while, then to Arkansas, and back to Texas. That's not good for a woman trying to bring up a couple of kids."
Longarm had difficulty picturing the soft-spoken, mild-mannered Sam Starr riding with an outlaw who'd gotten the kind of reputation Jim Reed had for ingenuity, daring, and cold-bloodedness. Sam seemed to be the kind of man who fitted best into the role he now filled, as the subservient husband of a domineering wife. And he had more than a hunch that it had been Belle who'd done most of the wooing in their romance. He wondered just how big a part Sam's land at Younger's Bend had played in her decision to marry him.
"So you settled down here."
"Well, I had the land from my tribe's allotment. And even if Belle did send the children back to Missouri to get a good education, it'll be here for them to come back to when they're older. And it's a nice place to live. Convenient and private."
"That's sure the truth," Longarm agreed. He was tempted to ask about the naming of Sam's land for Belle's first lover, but he'd began to feel sorry for Starr. As long as Sam was contented to walk in the shadow of his wife, that wasn't Longarm's affair.
Beyond the cabins, Longarm saw Belle, Floyd, and Yazoo coming across the level area between the house and the bluff. Yazoo was carrying a string of fish.
"Oh-oh," Starr said, his eyes following Longarm's. "Time for me to put on the skillet. I hope you like catfish rolled in cornmeal and fried in bacon grease 'till they're nice and crusty on the outside."
"To tell you the truth, Sam, it's been such a while since I've had anything much but steak that I sort of disremember what fresh catfish tastes like."
"If I had the time, I'd cook up a stew the Cherokee way, with some gobo root and ramp and dowall in with the fish. But that'd take too long, and I'd have to go pick the other things I need. Frying's faster."
Starr stood up. "I'll go poke up the fire and get the grease heating up. Belle's going to be hungry. She won't feel like waiting long."
"Well, Windy, I'm glad you got back all right," Belle greeted Longarm when the trio got close to the house.
"Me too," Yazoo chimed in. "If you and Sam ain't et already, I got a right good string of fish here for dinner."
"We waited for you," Longarm said. "Sam's inside now, getting ready to cook."
"See, Floyd?" Yazoo said. "Told you I better stop there at the river and gut out these fish. I knew Sam'd expect me to bring in a mess. Now we won't have to wait; they're all ready to go in the pan. I'll take 'em in and they'll be ready afore you know it."
Floyd's only acknowledgement was a nod. He was studying Longarm. "You get the girl sent off all right?" he asked.
"Sure, why? Didn't you expect me to?"
"I thought you took a damn fool chance, going into a place as big as Fort Smith, with a fresh want out on you."
"Well, I did have a mite of trouble," Longarm admitted straight-facedly, his voice casual.
"Somebody spotted you?" Belle asked anxiously.
"in a way."
Floyd snorted. "What the hell kind of answer is that? Either they spotted you or they didn't."
"It wasn't me they spotted," Longarm explained. "It was the girl. Then, because I happened to be with her, they figured I was Taylor. There was a reward out on him for that bank he robbed on the way up."
"You just told us the girl got on the train all right," Floyd said suspiciously. "How could they spot you with her, if you wasn't on the train too?" Longarm said patiently, "It happened at the depot, Floyd. I'd just put Dolly on the train. I was standing there watching it pull out when she yelled at me to look out."
"Well, what happened?" Belle demanded.
"We had a little set-to." Longarm knew that Belle and Floyd wouldn't be satisfied with that. They'd want a complete explanation, but he had cultivated a reputation for being close-mouthed, and didn't intend to volunteer anything they failed to drag out of him.
"Damn it, Windy, you're the tightest-lipped man I've ever run into!"
Belle complained. "I guess you deserve your name. Go ahead and tell us what happened!"
"Yeah," Floyd seconded. "Whoever seen you must've been trying to throw down on you, for the girl to tell you to watch out."
"Oh, he was. Had his gun out."
"And you out-drew him?" Floyd's tone, if not his words, as much as called Longarm a liar.
"I was right at the edge of the platform. I jumped off it before he shot."
"And then you got him?" Belle frowned.
"Not right away. We waltzed around a little bit first."
"But you did get the son of a bitch?" Floyd insisted.
"Oh, sure. He's deader than hell right now," Longarm replied.
"Who was it thought they recognized you?" Belle asked.
"Railroad bull."
"Well, that's not as bad as the real law," Belle said, "At least you won't have every little tin-badge town marshal and deputy sheriff along the border on the look out for you."
"Why, Belle, there's not anybody going to be on the lookout for me," Longarm told her. "At least, not any more than there has been before now."
"How do you figure that?" she asked.
"Because nobody saw me."
"Oh, shit!" Floyd blurted. "In a place like a depot, in a town as big as Fort Smith? There's people around depots all the time, day and night!"
"I'm of the same mind Floyd is," Belle said slowly. She frowned and went on, "Somebody must've seen you."
"I guess so. But nobody noticed me that much."
"You'll have one hell of a job convincing me of that," Floyd said.
"Oh, I can prove it, Floyd," Longarm told him in a quiet voice, almost a whisper.
"I don't see how."
"Just keep a curb-rein on your curiosity until I've had a chance to go down to my cabin. I've got all the proof you could ask for," Longarm said confidently.
"I can't wait to see that," Floyd said. He was almost sneering.
Longarm didn't have to respond, because at that Moment Sam Starr stepped out onto the porch and called, "Dinner's ready! Come on and eat before it gets cold!"
Although fried catfish wasn't something he'd have ordered at his favorite steak house in Denver, Longarm had to admit that Starr's version of it was very tasty indeed. Under a thin, crisp crust, the tender white flesh of the virtually boneless fish flaked off, moist and toothsome. The fluffy brown biscuits that went with the meal did double duty; after the fish had all been eaten, biscuits and warm honey provided an ample dessert.
After they'd eaten, Floyd said, "Well, Belle, maybe you and Sam and Windy and me better sit right here and finish up planning that bank job."
"What about Steed and Bobby?" Longarm asked.
"They'll do what I tell 'em to," Floyd replied. "Me and Steed's worked together before. We won't have any trouble. But with two or three new ones coming in-"
"Not now, Floyd," Belle broke in decisively. "We'll talk about the job after supper. Steed and Bobby will be back from Eufaula then, and we can get it all settled without having to go over everything two or three times. Besides, Sam and I have to spend the afternoon up at the stillhouse with Yazoo. He's got to start a fresh batch of mash cooking in a day or so, and we'll need more sugar for it. We need bottles too. We'll be going to Eufaula tomorrow to pick up what we'll have to have."
"That's right," Yazoo piped up. "I got every barrel and keg filled plumb to the brim up there right now. I can't keep making moonshine unless I got what I need to work with."
"After supper suits me," Longarm said. "We better get things settled pretty soon, though. I can't hang around here forever."
"You better hang around long enough to do what you've said you will," Floyd snapped. "And another thing--you said you could prove that yarn you were spinning us a while ago, about what happened in Fort Smith. I'd like to see you do that, before we start planning a job you'll be in with us on."
"I'll bring along my proof when I come up for supper," Longarm promised. "Now, if everybody's going to be busy, I'm going down to the cabin and get some shut-eye."
Steed and Bobby had returned when Longarm came up to join the group for supper. He brought along the copy of the Fort Smith Elevator, keeping it folded so the headlines wouldn't show. Floyd challenged him as soon as he walked into the house.
"Well, Windy? I told Steed and Bobby about that crazy yarn you handed me and Belle today. They want to see how you figure to prove it, too."
"Sure." Longarm unfolded the paper and held it up. "Read it yourself."
There Was silence for several minutes while everyone in the room bent over the newspaper. Belle was the first to finish. She looked up at Longarm and started laughing.
"Well, by God, Windy, you're as good as your word! You really did cut down that railroad bull And got away with it!"
Steed asked, "Did the son of a bitch really get off five shots at you before you knocked him Over?"
"Couldn't help that, Steed," Longarm explained. "He kept jumping behind one of those iron posts, there outside the depot. Wasn't much way I could get a clean shot at him until I worked him around out in back."
"I guess it happened just about like you said it did," Floyd finally admitted. "Windy, the way that newspaper write-up reads, you'll fit in with us just like gravy goes with potatoes."
Bobby stared at Longarm goggle-eyed. "You really did kill a policeman, Windy? Shot it out with him, right there in the depot?"
"You read what the paper says, Bobby," Longarm replied.
"Well, I got no more reason to hang back," Steed announced. "If Windy's notched himself up a cop, even just a railroad bull, he's with us all the Way."
"That's how I've felt all along," Belle told them.
"Now, we can get down to business after supper and finish up our plans."
Supper was the first really cheerful meal that Longarm remembered having eaten at Younger's Bend. Before, there had always been Floyd's suspicion, or Belle's badly hidden jealousy, or some kind of strain or pall hanging over the table. Two or three times, Floyd tried to bring up the impending job, but Belle put him off with a reminder that there'd be time to talk and plan later on. When they'd finished, Belle told Yazoo to go up to the stillhouse and bring back two or three fresh bottles of whiskey, and as soon as Sam had cleared the table, she indicated that she was ready at last for them to get down to business.
"We'll have to make up our minds tonight which day we're going to take the bank," she began.
"What's the hurry?" Floyd asked.
"I've found out that the bank's going to get a shipment of gold and currency from the New Orleans mint in the next three or four days," she replied. "If we go in on the fifth or sixth day, we'll get most of it. We don't want to be there before the shipment gets in, and we don't want to wait too long, or a lot of it will have been handed out to the factors buying up the farm crops."
"Just how'd you get the news of that mint shipment, Belle? If you don't mind telling me, that is," Longarm asked.
"My whiskey customers pay me in more ways than with money, Windy. They carry messages, too." Belle smiled wisely. "I can't be riding into Eufaula every day just to pick up mail. Besides, I don't trust the mail. How do I know the federal marshals and the post office don't work in cahoots?"
Longarm could have told her that nothing could be further from the truth. He remembered a half-dozen times when a look at a piece of suspected mail might have saved a case for him, but Billy Vail had never been able to get the cooperation of the postal officials in allowing mail going through their hands to be opened. He said nothing, of course, just nodded understandingly.
Floyd said, "So that's why you went along with Yazoo today! Damn it, Belle, you might've said something before now. Me and Steed have been wondering all along just how you was going to find out when this job ought to be pulled."
"I don't tell everybody my business," Belle said tartly. "If everybody knew what I know, or how I work things out, I'd lose my edge."
"All right, never mind that now," Floyd told her. "If the bank's going to have all that money on hand in three or four days, we'd better get cracking."
"We're still going to be short a man, even with Windy joining in," Steed pointed out.
"No. Sam's going with you," Belle said. "We've known all along the job needs five men. There'll be one at the end of the block on each side of the bank, and three to do the inside work. What you and Floyd and Windy have got to work out is who's going to go in and who's going to be the outside guards."
"Mat's easy enough," Floyd said. "It's just good sense for me and Steed and Windy to handle the bank. Now that my mind's at rest about Windy, I figure he's the equal of me and Steed any day. He'll keep cool and move fast, and if there's shooting, he'll handle it quick and straight."
"Oh, now wait a minute, Floyd!" Bobby protested. "I was in with you and Steed before Windy come along. It seems to me it's only right that I'd go inside. That's where the fun will be."
"Hold up there, Bobby," Longarm told the youth. "This ain't no play-party we're going on. It's business."
"You think I don't know that, Windy?" Bobby shot back. "And I can do anything you can, as good as you can. Sure, Floyd and Steed think you're right big of a much now, because you killed that officer in Fort Smith. Well, that don't make you one bit better than me!"
"That's enough, Bobby!" Floyd commanded. "You and Steed both agreed when we started out on this job that I was going to have the last word. All right, I'm giving you the last word now. You and Sam will be the outside guards. Me and Steed and Windy will take care of the inside work."
Bobby didn't look happy, but he subsided. Longarm turned to Belle. "I still don't know where this bank is we're going to take."
"Now wait a minute, Belle!" Floyd flared. "You never said that before. That's no goddamn way to work! I'm with Windy. I want to know where we're going, how long it's going to take us to get there, what we can look for, and how we'll get away."
"I'll give you part of it, Floyd," she answered. "But not everything."
"You better tell us the whole layout, Belle," Longarm said. "I told you once before, I don't buy a pig in a poke."
Longarm was anxious to get the whole picture. He still had a few days during which he could manage to find a way to get word to Gower where the gang planned to strike, and set up the trap that would catch the entire bunch. With Sam in custody, he was pretty sure that either Belle or Sam would talk.
"This is one pig you'll buy without seeing it," Belle said. The emphasis she gave her words left no doubt in Longarm's mind that she couldn't be argued around. She went on, "Now, you don't need to know where the bank is, not yet. The fewer people who know that, the less chance there is of word getting out about the job."
"You might be right about that part of it, Belle," Longarm began.
Belle cut him off short. "I know damn well I'm right about the whole plan, Windy. Now shut up, all of you, and I'll tell you what you need to know. You can find out the rest later on."
All of them listened intently while Belle explained the layout. "There would be no marshals or sheriffs deputies around to interfere, she guaranteed. There were only three in town, one deputy sheriff and two marshals, and she had two of the three in her pocket. They could be counted on to get the third man out of the way.
As for the bank, it was in the middle of the block. The two men outside could guard the street in both directions and keep anybody from getting close while the holdup was taking place. The outside men would hold the reins of the horses ridden by the three who'd go in. There might be a private guard inside the bank; some of them hired a man when there was a lot of extra money on hand. Handling him would be up to the men who went in. They'd also have to get the tellers and bank officers away from their desks, because all of them had weapons close at hand.