Description
It took only half a minute to shove the guards inside and lock the door a second time. He grabbed Younger's elbow again and led him at a trot across the road, through the Stovers' grounds, and across the creek.
He boosted the prisoner up into his own saddle, knowing his own bay would be predictable on the lead. Then he climbed aboard Captain Walthers' walker and led out at a brisk pace as the prisoner yelped, "Jesus! I can't ride like this! There's a big slit in this saddle an' my balls is caught in it!"
"You just hush and do the best you can, boy. My orders are to bring you in dead or alive. You yell one more time and I don't have to tell you which it'll be."
The prisoner fell silent, or tried to, as Longarm followed the trail he'd followed du Val or Brown. . . along, by memory. He managed to miss riding through a tree, but the branches whipped both of them in the dark as Longarm set as fast a pace as he dared to in the dark. Once the prisoner announced, apologetically, that he was about to fall off,
Longarm said, "You'll fall and I'll kill you," and his horsemanship seemed to improve miraculously . . .
Longarm had a new mission. Ride to Crooked Lance. Pick up Cotton Younger, killer cousin of Jesse James, from the town jail.
Bring him to trial.
It was easy.
Except for one thing. Deputy Kincaid had already tried it. And deputy Kincaid was nowhere to be found . . .
Nobody at Crooked Lance wanted him to do his job-not the beautiful widow woman, or the Federal Agent or the James gang . . . but Longarm never gave up when he had work to do. Even if it killed him . . .
