The Pinkerton Job

Above the Herd . . .

Siringo fired and ducked back behind the steers, but the animals were just seconds away from stampeding because of the shots.

Clint fired twice, quickly dispatching two men from the action, then took cover himself.

Both men fired into the group of outlaws, who were scattering, trying to make a smaller target of themselves. The steers started to run, but that was of no concern to Siringo and Clint as long as they weren't trampled. And, in fact, the herd began to run
toward
the outlaws, who then really had to scramble to keep from being trampled beneath them.

Clint and Siringo managed to avoid that fate themselves, but the stampeding herd kicked up a lot of dust, which impeded their view. They both hoped their tracker, Tom Horn, had a clearer view from above . . .

But he did not . . .

DON'T MISS THESE ALL-ACTION WESTERN SERIES FROM THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

THE GUNSMITH by J. R. Roberts

Clint Adams was a legend among lawmen, outlaws, and ladies. They called him . . . the Gunsmith.

LONGARM by Tabor Evans

The popular long-running series about Deputy U.S. Marshal Custis Long—his life, his loves, his fight for justice.

SLOCUM by Jake Logan

Today's longest-running action Western. John Slocum rides a deadly trail of hot blood and cold steel.

BUSHWHACKERS by B. J. Lanagan

An action-packed series by the creators of Longarm! The rousing adventures of the most brutal gang of cutthroats ever assembled—Quantrill's Raiders.

DIAMONDBACK by Guy Brewer

Dex Yancey is Diamondback, a Southern gentleman turned con man when his brother cheats him out of the family fortune. Ladies love him. Gamblers hate him. But nobody pulls one over on Dex . . .

WILDGUN by Jack Hanson

The blazing adventures of mountain man Will Barlow—from the creators of Longarm!

TEXAS TRACKER by Tom Calhoun

J.T. Law: the most relentless—and dangerous—manhunter in all Texas. Where sheriffs and posses fail, he's the best man to bring in the most vicious outlaws—for a price.

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

For more information about the Penguin Group, visit penguin.com.

THE PINKERTON JOB

A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author

Copyright © 2013 by Robert J. Randisi.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Jove Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group.

JOVE
^®
is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

The “J” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

ISBN: 978-1-101-62387-9

PUBLISHING HISTORY

Jove mass-market edition / June 2013

Cover illustration by Sergio Giovine.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

ONE

Charlie Siringo waited while the other man studied the ground. Siringo had been a cowboy for a long time, was a published writer, and was working as a detective. He was not a tracker. For that he had sought out another man, and he left it up to him to do the tracking.

But that didn't mean he didn't get impatient.

“Well?” he demanded. “What do you see?”

The other man looked up at him and said calmly, “I see more than you see, or you'd be down here doin' this.”

The New Mexican ground was so hard here, he didn't see how anyone could pick up tracks on it. But if anyone could, it was Tom Horn.

Horn remained on one knee for a few moments longer, then stood up, brushed his hands together, and looked off into the distance.

“We're still on the right track,” he said.

He walked back to where Siringo sat his own horse and held the reins of Horn's. Siringo handed the reins to the younger man, who swung up into his saddle.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I'm positive,” Horn said. “Charlie, you came to me, remember? Why you always gotta question me?”

“It's my nature, Tom,” Siringo said. “I'm a detective.”

“So you're sure these guys we're trailin' are the right ones?”

“I'm sure the Sandusky gang are the ones I'm after, yeah,” Siringo said. “I'm not sure we're on their trail. I only know you say we're on
somebody's
trail.”

“I picked up this trail from where you took me,” Horn said. “You said the Sanduskys were there. If
you're
right, then
I'm
right. It all depends on you, Charlie.”

“Yeah, well . . .”

“Are we goin'?” Horn asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Siringo said, “we're goin'. Lead on.”

Horn didn't actually take the lead. Rather, they rode off together, with Horn determining the direction they took.

*   *   *

Charlie Siringo was a Pinkerton operative who had been assigned to find out who was rustling cattle in Santa Fe County, New Mexico. Once he had determined that it was Harlan Sandusky and his gang, he recruited Tom Horn to track the gang for him.

Since joining the Pinkertons two years earlier—using Pat Garrett's name as a reference—Siringo had worked mostly on labor disputes, but the Stock Grower's Association of New Mexico had paid the Pinkertons a lot of money to stop the rustling, so they had decided to send their best man. Also, they figured Siringo's experience as a cowboy—which he had set down in print in the published book,
A Texas Cowboy; Or Fifteen Years on the Hurricane Deck of a Spanish Pony—
would be a benefit.

Siringo knew that Tom Horn, several years younger than himself, would be the man to actually track the gang down. He also trusted Horn to back his play. He intended to try to get the Pinkertons to hire Horn once they were done with this job. Siringo knew that Horn—a soldier, scout, and tracker—had all the makings of an excellent Pinkerton detective.

Despite all that, Siringo was becoming impatient to catch up to the Sandusky gang. It was time to put this job to bed and get back to Chicago. If he had wanted to spend this much time on horseback, he would have remained a cowboy.

*   *   *

Tom Horn respected Charlie Siringo.

He'd never tell him that, of course. Although he respected the detective, he also had enough ego to believe he was every bit as good as Siringo was. However, when it came to tracking, there was no doubt he was superior.

Horn was not yet thirty, and had established a reputation as a scout and tracker. He and Siringo had crossed paths several times and, while not friends, got along. In truth, Tom Horn had few friends. He was a man who enjoyed his solitude. That was why he enjoyed the time he had to spend on the trail when working.

But Siringo was paying him well this time, so they traveled together.

*   *   *

They stopped and camped for the night, and over beans and bacon Horn said, “I think we should catch up to them tomorrow.”

“I'm lookin' forward to it,” Siringo said.

“Can't wait to go back to Chicago?”

“It's so different, Tom,” Siringo said, “after all the years I spent on a horse, punchin' cows.”

“Yeah, well,” Horn said, “I ain't done with my time on horseback.”

“As long as you still enjoy it,” Siringo said, “why change?”

Horn raised his coffee cup in agreement.

“I'll take first watch,” Horn said.

While they were the pursuers, that didn't mean the pursued wouldn't double back at some point, and they didn't want to be caught unawares. So they had been setting a watch each night.

“Fine,” Siringo said, “wake me in four hours.”

“You can have longer if you want,” Horn said. “I really don't sleep that much.”

“Naw,” Siringo said, “four hours is fine.”

“Okay.”

Siringo rolled himself up in his bedroll and said, “And try to leave me some coffee this time.”

“I'll make sure there's a fresh pot,” Horn said, pouring himself some more and nibbling on the last of the bacon.