Longarm and the Colorado gundown

_{Longarm was about to get peeved about it all. He’d slept poorly during the night, and then hadn’t wanted to crawl out this morning. As it was he’d nearly overslept, and so had had to wolf his breakfast in order to get there on time. His stomach felt sour now because of that, full of undigested grease and coffee that’d tasted mostly of acid. And now they were all gonna stand around and wait?}

_{“Mister,” he said to the wagon driver, “are we gonna leave or aren’t we?”}

_{“We’ll pull out direc’ly,” the driver mumbled around a cud of tobacco.}

_{“Before noon or after?” Longarm persisted.}

_{The driver finally consented to turn his head and give the tall deputy a direct look. “Soon as the last passenger shows up, mister.”}

_{“I thought....” After all, that dang clerk yesterday had pretty much implied a man had to be on time or get left behind until the next day. Well, sauce for one was sauce for all, wasn’t it?}

_{“Dammit, mister. ’Scuse me, ma’am,” the wagon driver added with an apologetic bob of his head in the lady’s direction. “What I’m saying, mister, is that we ain’t gonna pull outta here till that last passenger is aboard. Not regardless. So’s you might just as well calm down an’ leave be.”}

_{Longarm sighed. The driver was right, of course. None of this was the driver’s responsibility no matter what some clerk might’ve said, and there was no point whatsoever in Longarm getting his stomach churning over it. This railroad that did its business with mules and wagons instead of steam engines was entitled to act however it pleased. With}

_{or without Custis Long’s consent. His snippiness now was just a carryover from last night. “Sorry,” he said. “I only thought—”}

_{“Yeah, I know, but this here passenger is different. One of the bosses, see. Owns a big piece of this here railroad line. Or what will be a railroad line by the end o’ summer. So’s you can see, I bet, why I’m gonna set here an’ wait on the man long as it takes, mister. No matter how ruffled your feathers happen t’ get.” The driver grinned and spat.}