"Evans, Tabor - Longarm 189 - Longarm and the Apache Plunder" - читать интересную книгу автора (Evans Tabor)

far? Like I said, they asked for you by name."

That redhead was hovering too close for Longarm to grab another egg
without asking her to refill his empty schooner. So he nodded at her
and held up two fingers as he told Billy Vail, "I can hazard a mighty
educated guess without having to go all the way down to New Mexico. A
land rush always attracts hired guns. There's one heap of timber and
Lord knows what mineral rights to be fought over once the Jicarilla are
moved south willing or otherwise."

"There ain't going to be any Indian fighting," said Vail in a
dead-certain tone. As the barmaid slid two fresh beers across the
mahogany at them Vail explained. "I told you I read. Things cross my
desk you never see in the Rocky Mountain News. So I can assure you that
me and Interior Secretary Schurz agree with you and General Sherman that
the army can win all the medals it needs chasing Victorio and his
glorified horse thieves to the south. The government's hoping your
Jicarilla pals will move down to the Tularosa Agency without any serious
fuss. The BIA is sending extra allotments and some Apache-talking
agents to negotiate."

Longarm reached for another egg to go with his fresh beer as he said,
"Nobody talks any lingo called Apache. Not their Pueblo pals who first
called 'em Apachu, meaning 'Enemies' in another lingo, nor the mixed bag
of Na-dene speakers. They don't see why we divide 'em and dub 'em
Navaho, Mescalero, Chiricahua, and such, by the way. They call
themselves names such as Na-dene, N'de, Dene, Tinde, Inde, and Lord
knows what-all."

Billy Vail said something mighty dirty.

Longarm blandly continued. "The BIA might or might not be able to move
the ones we call Jicarilla off that prime mountain real estate without a
fight. Those not-so-mysterious strangers will doubtless get out of
those dry canyons to the east and into the greener pastures of that big
old reserve as soon as it seems halfway safe to plunder it. So why not
wait and simply ask 'em who they are and where they came from, once they
start filing homestead or mining claims? You got to tell the government
things like that as soon as you file either."

The older man reached for his own beer as he wistfully replied, "I used
to come up with easy answers before Sam Houston and me got nowhere
trying to keep the Rangers on the winning side and I married up with a
member of the unfair sex. If you and the ostrich bird would take your
fool heads out of that Apache reserve and listen up, both that Indian
land and the surrounding territory of New Mexico are the beeswax of the
federal government, which don't want to wait for drygulching gunslicks
to volunteer full confessions. Like I said, they asked for you by name.
So can I wire Santa Fe you're on your way or not?"