Longarm and the Shoshoni silver

He took a drag on his cheroot and reached for his pocket watch as he continued. "I doubt Indians who ate folks would be so horrified at the notion of even an owl bird doing it, and even if Shoshoni had such disgusting habits, can anyone here see 'em sending all the way to Scotland for mail-order brides?"

The two women smiled. Old Angus never seemed to change his sour expression. Rhinegold shrugged and said, "Well, they do say some of the younger Shoshoni can read and write English, and ain't Pocatello in the flesh a Mormon convert?"

Longarm consulted his watch as he replied, "They say Geronimo is a Roman Papist, if that's supposed to mean anything. The Saints hold the American Indians to be lost tribes of Israel, in case you ever want to discuss such matters with a hostile coming at you. Mister Rhinegold. I'll ask Pocatello whether he sent away for any Mormon gals from Scotland as soon as I get up to Fort Hall, albeit I doubt he'll tell me he has. Meanwhile, I may be able to pick up Zion before that government bunch shows up, if they ever do."

He rose to his feet and headed for the back door to see where that breed kid might be with his damned dinnerware. Dame Flora got up to chase after him, saying she needed trail supplies as well, if he knew of a reasonable place to

purchase any. She explained she and her party had nin out south of the Idaho Hne, and that Angus had refused to let anyone take advantage of her at any of the widespread settlements they'd passed through since.

Longarm was too polite to say he'd been wondering why the four of them had been trying to buy breakfast at a stage stop if none of them had come in by stage. When he asked her where her riding and pack stock might be, she confirmed that, like him, they'd taken advantage of the only livery and wayside inn for a day's ride north or south. She said she wasn't used to sleeping on the ground and he believed her. They then saw that breed kid coming across the yard with Longarm's dinnerware in a fresh burlap sack. So Longarm gave the kid a cheroot, told him to leave the stuff inside by the stove, and asked if there might be a nearby general store that wasn't out to skin strange gentiles alive.

The kid said there was such a store out front and down the main street a ways to the south. He didn't know how they felt about the price of beans this far from the railroad. When Longarm said he'd passed the place riding in, and that there was only one way to find out. Dame Flora said she'd best not tell old Angus where they were headed.

Longarm didn't care. She seemed much better company than gloomy old Angus. As they circled the building wide she took his arm in a natural way, as if to confirm what he'd just told himself.

Chapter 7

The little frame store down the way was crammed to its tin ceiling with everything from straight pins to moldboard plows and penny candy to hundred-pound sacks of com meal. The little dried apple of a gent who ran the place even kept coffee, tobacco, and racy reading material under his counter for passing gentiles bound for the Montana Territory. Dame Flora found their prices outrageous, but Longarm told her the old cuss was being firm but fair, explaining, "All the stuff from the outside world comes in expensive, by packsaddle or freight wagon over many a dusty bump, ma'am. You'll find local produce no more than a few cents higher than in most country stores. Mormons tithe a dime on the dollar to their temple after paying local taxes. So I've seen higher prices out this way."

She said in that case it might be smarter to buy plenty of dry beans, bacon, and such in bulk. But Longarm warned her, "Not if you mean to break camp every morning, ma'am. I know you got servants to cook for you. But you just don't have the time out on the trail."

He could see she wasn't used to doing her own cooking as soon as she asked what he meant. The old storekeeper cackled. "He knows a thing or two about beans, little lady. So listen to him tight."

Longarm chuckled fondly and pointed at the piled sacks

of navy beans as he explained, "First you got to soak 'em in water at least twelve hours before you put 'em on the fire with may haps some sowbelly and molasses to simmer another six or eight, by which time I'd have eaten from cans and moved on at least twice. Folks in any hurry can ride quite a ways in even the time it takes a fresh spud to bake in the coals, come to study on it."

She still seemed undecided. So he asked just how much farther she and her own party meant to ride in search of other Scotch gals. When she frowned thoughtfully and said they'd probably ride on up to Fort Hall with him, Longarm smiled uncertainly and declared, "I ain't sure about that, ma'am. To begin with, it won't be for me to say once that government party catches up with us here. Even if they don't mind, I ain't sure you ought to. I've told you why I doubt those missing gals got lured anywhere by Shoshoni."