"Evans, Tabor - Longarm 222 - Longarm and the Backwoods Baroness" - читать интересную книгу автора (Evans Tabor)

holster. He turned back to the spot where he had dropped his gear and
picked it up again.

"You can beat the hell out of each other when I'm gone," he said. "I
don't give a damn either way."

He stalked across the platform and into the lobby of the depot. The
railroad clerk had come out from behind his ticket counter so that he could
watch the brawl through the windows. Now he retreated behind the counter
as Longarm came toward him.

"Yes, sir, what can I do for you?" the man asked.

Longarm set his saddle down and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at
the platform behind him. "What in blazes was that ruckus about?"

The clerk sighed and shook his head. "They don't need a reason.
Whenever those loggers from Mcentire's camp are anywhere around the
punchers from the Diamond K, a fight breaks out, just like clockwork."

"They don't get along, huh?"

"That's putting it mildly, Mister ..."

"Long, Custis Long." Longarm had never been to Timber City before, so
he didn't see any reason not to use his real name. If he ran into anybody
he had been responsible for throwing in jail in the past, they would
recognize him as much by his tall, rangy build and longhorn mustache as
they would by his name. He went on. "I reckon the Diamond K must be one
of the spreads hereabouts."

"That's right. It's about ten miles north of here, spread out along
the foothills at the base of the Cascades. And that's about where the
Mcentire lumber camp is, only it's up higher in the mountains."

Longarm nodded, thankful for the fact that most pencil pushers like
this gent were the talkative sort. "Well, I'll be sure not to get in the
middle of those two bunches again. A fella could get killed, happen he
wasn't careful."

The clerk looked solemn. "Several men have been killed already, I'm
afraid. All by accident ... or so the story goes."

"That so?"

"Yes, I think-" The clerk stopped abruptly. He grinned sheepishly.
"But I'm not paid to think, just to sell tickets. Too much gossip might
make people afraid to come to Timber City, and then the railroad wouldn't
make as much money, would it?"