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

name? Corrales? . . . so’s I can get me a shave before I scratch my damn chin bloody. Then, if you don’t mind, I’ll come back here an’ bunk down in that vacant cell back there, so I’ll be able to take over the guard duty from you this evening. If anything happens, give a shout. I’ll come running.”
    â€œI don’t really expect any trouble,” Tyler said, “but it’s good to know you will be back there anyway.”
    Longarm picked up the now empty basket and headed for yet another trip to the café.

Chapter 30
    Longarm returned to the jail feeling considerably less itchy and smelling of Pinaud Clubman. The goatherds and one dog were still gathered at the front of the courthouse, but they were quiet. Sullen but quiet. He considered running them off with the threat of loitering charges—if there was such a thing in Dwyer, and if there was not, there should be—but that might only make things worse. At least if they were that close by, he knew where they were and what they were up to. If he sent them somewhere else, there was no telling what trouble they might get into.
    He settled for letting them get a good look at him and at the McConnell County deputy’s badge he had pinned to his coat. The badge more than made up for his lack of Spanish; it spoke volumes in any language.
    He stood at the top of the steps down into the sheriff’s office for a few moments then went down, rapped lightly on the door, and went inside.
    â€œEverything all right?” Tyler said.
    Longarm nodded. “So far so good.”
    â€œAre those Mexicans still up there?”
    Longarm nodded again.
    â€œDo you want to get Anthony to talk to them?”
    â€œNo,” Longarm said, “I don’t think so. They aren’t causing any trouble, really, and I figure they’re just there to stay close to their pal Julio. They ain’t all worked up in a fury or nothin’. I don’t think they got thoughts o’ breaking him out or anything. Though I expect they might think of that if they was to get all liquored up. Which is why I shut Doris down. The less they drink, the better off we are.”
    He yawned and stretched. “If you don’t mind, John, I’ll go back there to your cells an’ lay down. Get a little shuteye. I’ll try an’ wake up in time for you to go home and have one of your lady’s fine meals. Then you can come back and relieve me in the morning so’s Anthony and me can try and make some sense of this feuding an’ fussing.”
    â€œGo ahead,” Tyler said.
    â€œOne thing, John. Was I you, I think I’d bolt that door. If they do get worked up and try to bust Altameira out of here, they’ll come in a rush.”
    â€œAll right, Longarm. You have more experience with this sort of thing than I ever want to.” Tyler stood and took his shotgun with him while he went to the door and locked it, then slid the bolt closed for that much extra security.
    Longarm touched the brim of his Stetson in Tyler’s direction then went back to the cells, where Julio Altameira was moping in a corner. If the man was this depressed from being in a county cell, Longarm suspected he would not do well once he got into the brutal confinement of a prison.
    Of course the stupid son of a bitch might get lucky and be hanged instead.
    With that cheery thought in mind, Longarm removed his hat and coat—but kept the county’s shotgun close to hand—and lay down on the hard and too short bunk to get a little sleep while he had the chance.
    Later, John Tyler brought him one of Nell’s homemade dinners—a huge step up from what Longarm was accustomed to—and he locked up for the night. He then spent a boring evening sitting at Tyler’s desk, and about one o’clock he returned to the empty cell to catch some more sleep while he had the chance.

Chapter 31
    Longarm woke up with Helen Birch on his