Longarm 243: Longarm and the Debt of Honor Read Free Page B

nodded and hauled out smokes for himself and for Norm, then did as the old man suggested and made himself comfortable in anticipation of a lengthy yarn.

Chapter 5
    â€œPolitics,” Norm said with a shrug and a grin, as if that explained everything. And hell, maybe it did at that, Longarm conceded. Politics was responsible for most of what was fine and good about the country. But partisan political bickering was also responsible for one hell of a lot of what was ugly and rotten too. Not all, of course. But certainly an outsized proportion of the bad could be chalked up to politics.
    â€œTell me,” Longarm said, crossing his legs and drawing deep of the clean, rich-tasting smoke from his cheroot. Inside the cell, perched on the edge of a mighty hard and uncomfortable-looking bunk, Norm did the same.
    â€œLike I said,” Norm repeated, “politics. In a nut-shell.”
    â€œThat mayhap tell everything, but it sure doesn’t tell a man much, old friend.”
    Norm grinned again. “Relax, Longarm. I got time to tell it all.” The grin turned into a laugh. “It isn’t like I’m in a hurry to go someplace, y’know.”
    Longarm leaned back and decided to let Norm tell the story in his own good time.
    Come September there was a referendum election scheduled in Hirt County, Kansas. Crow’s Point, which used to be the focal point for cow-country ranching in this part of the state, was the current seat of the county. A nearby farming community called Jasonville wanted that honor. In September the voters would decide where to situate a planned new courthouse along with the sheriff’s office, county clerk and records, all of that.
    The result of the coming election was a foregone conclusion, Crow’s Point Town Marshal Wold admitted. The residents of Jasonville outnumbered those of Crow’s Point by a good three to one. More to the point, the population of farmers in the county was at least six times larger than that of the ranchers who’d remained after the cow business had moved north into Nebraska, Wyoming, Dakota, and lately, Montana. Cattlemen were getting kind of thin on the ground these past few years, Norm allowed. Soon after the election the county seat would leave Crow’s Point, and a new one would be born at Jasonville.
    â€œAnd you, you old curmudgeon, you’re still thought of as a cow-town peacekeeper, I take it,” Longarm said.
    â€œHell, yes, I am. I was a town tamer, Longarm. The real thing. Dammit, Custis, should I start in to be ashamed of that all of a sudden? I did a fine job for these folks ... and for the folks in a lot of other towns and railhead cesspools... for a lot of years. I’m proud of my record.”
    â€œAs you damn well oughta be,” Longarm agreed.
    â€œRight. But that won’t buy me no groceries once the farmers take over everything. Which they will come September.” Norm sighed. “I’m getting sidetracked here, aren’t I?”
    â€œAre you?”
    â€œI expect so. It’s just... it gravels me, that’s all.”
    Longarm nodded and took another drag on his cheroot, waiting patiently for the old man—Norm hadn’t been old the last time Longarm saw him, but now he sure as hell was—to go on with his story of how he came to be sitting inside a jail cell.
    â€œThe county seat moving, that’s going to have a lot of consequences, you see. This old courthouse, such as it is, will revert to the town as a town hall. Not that there will be much point to having a town hall, since most of the business will move to Jasonville along with the courts and all those public jobs that go along with a seat of government.”
    Longarm nodded. He too had seen the same thing happen in a dozen towns or more. Once the source of money left, so did the people who fed off the government, those who held the public jobs and those who depended on them for trade. Crow’s Point was sure