Due to nursing his throbbing jaw and thinking what he would do to Amy-Jo when he laid hands on her, Hickey rode through the darkness without his usual caution. Nor did the men with him show greater alertness, being concerned with their own sufferings. Before they could stop themselves or realize the danger, the trio found themselves covered by the guns of three horsemen who loomed out of the bushes.
For a moment panic filled Hickey, then he recognized the stocky shape on the nearest horse.
“Howdy, Charlie,” he greeted. “You headed for Rosita O’Malley’s?”
“Maybe,” Charlie Kraus replied, holstering his Colt. “You been there?”
“Sure. We got your word and figured Big Sam’d likely call in to see Rosy. He was there all right.”
“You went up against Sam Ysabel?” Kraus asked, his voice showing how he felt on the matter.
“Sure, but him and some of his boys laid for us and whomped us good,” Hickey answered.
“What is it, Mr. Kraus?” asked a woman’s voice and Eve rode forward from where she and Ffauldes had been told to wait until the approaching riders were identified. “Has he seen Ysabel and Boyd?”
“Sure,” Kraus replied. “At Rosy O’Malley’s place.”
“They ain’t there now, ma’am,” Hickey put in, sensing the chance of making a little money out of the disastrous affair.
“Who’s this, Mr. Kraus?” Eve inquired.
“Name’s Hickey. He tried to get that money.”
“Tried?”
“That’d be his best, ma’am. What happened, Hickey?”
“Big Sam was waiting for us. Nigh on bust my jaw, beat Tetch here about the head something evil and done for poor ole Lone Tom. Rosy lay a skillet on Mick’s face and when we come too, Big Sam and that high-quality gal’d lit out.”
“Where?” Eve demanded. “Along the river?”
“Down south, way Rosy told it,” Hickey replied.
“She told you that?” Kraus growled.
“Naw. I heard her telling it to Ramon Peraro and Bully Segan.”
“Peraro and Segan, huh?”
“Who are they, Mr. Kraus?” Eve put in.
“Just about the meanest, most ornery pair of killers on the Rio Grande,” he explained. “Fact being, you’d be hard put to pair ’em anywheres short of hell.”
“Then it wouldn’t be advisable for us to go to this woman and question her about Ysabel?” Eve said.
“Ma’am,” Kraus replied. “It wouldn’t be advisable even without them two there. Where Ysabel’s concerned, Rosy O’Malley wouldn’t tell you the time of day. And with Peraro ’n’ the Bully both there, it’s be plumb suicide.” Then a thought struck him and he glared at Hickey. “How much did you tell Big Sam?”
“Nothing!” the man yelped. “Warn’t much talking done when we met up and time I’d got round to feeling like it again, he’d pulled out.”
“Where’s Amy-Jo?” Kraus growled.
“She—She pulled out,” Hickey admitted.
“Afore you come round?”
“Yeah. And when I lay hands on her, I’ll make her wish she’d never learned to talk!”
“So she told Big Sam how you got on to him?”
“She told him,” agreed Hickey. “You can’t blame her, Charlie. Big Sam’s got mighty fetching ways when he gets that way inclined.”
“That means Ysabel and Boyd know what we’ve done,” Eve remarked. “Here, take this ten dollars and ride!”
Grabbing the money, Hickey gabbled his thanks while putting the spurs to his horse. Followed by his men, he set off through the darkness at a gallop.
“That stupid—!” Kraus began. “A bullet’d been more his needings.”
Satisfied that there would be no danger, Ffauldes rode up to assert himself. He had heard everything said and felt he should give the others the benefit of his superior ability.
“So they’ve left the river trail—” he began.
“Maybe,” Kraus replied. “You can’t be sure of anything with Sam Ysabel and less with the Kid.”
“Your partner stayed in Matamoros to deal with the Kid,” Ffauldes pointed out. “He took our money to hire extra help to do it.”
“Staying there’s one thing, getting help’s easy,” Kraus grunted. “Stopping the Kid’s another again. It’s been tried afore—he’s still around even if the folks who tried it ain’t.”
“Damn it! Your partner—”
“Joe’ll do the best he can, mister,” Kraus interrupted. “Right now it’s Big Sam, not the Kid I’m thinking about.”
“We can pick up their trail at the posada—” Ffauldes started.
“And while we’re following it slow, which’s the only way it’ll be followed, Big Sam and the gal’ll be at the other end making more tracks,” Kraus told him. “Top of that, mister, Bully Segan and Ramon Peraro ain’t going to take kind to more folk trailing along to share the money.”
“They’d object to us going along?” Eve asked.
“They’d object to each other going along, happen one of ’em’s, got enough men to do it,” Kraus replied. “We don’t have near enough men to tangle with ’em.”
“What do you think Ysabel will do?” Eve said after a moment’s thought.
“I dunno,” Kraus admitted. “He’ll know that by now every robbing son-of-a-bitch along the river’s heard, or enough of ’em, and’ll be hunting for him. I’d say he’ll keep to the south, at least until he gets near Nava. You want to try hunting for him?”
“No,” Eve decided. “We’ll go up the river. I want to contact the steam launch flotilla and, if Ysabel gets through, I’ll be there ready to send warning to our garrisons in New Mexico.”
Before Ffauldes could make another comment, Kraus gave the signal to start moving. Clearly the stocky man had decided who was running the affair and accepted Eve’s suggestions.
There had been a heated scene in Matamoros when Eve laid her plans for the journey and announced that she would take one man along. That was a simple precaution, for she doubted if Kraus would be reliable if things went wrong. Much to her annoyance, Ffauldes had pulled rank and insisted that he be the one to accompany her. That she agreed had been less a tribute to his capabilities than the desire to keep him under her eyes. The French agreed to allow the Waterbury into Matamoros for the purpose of repairing her damaged hull. Expecting the Confederate agents to make a further attempt, Eve gave strict instructions to the Yankee detachment for the ship’s protection. So she gave in to Ffauldes’ demands, taking him with her to prevent his interference or ruination of her arrangements.
Patriotism did not lie behind Ffauldes’ insistence, nor devotion to duty. Knowing the state of affairs in the United States, he could imagine the acclaim that would come to the man who ruined the South’s desperate final bid. With the War almost over, that man could expect recognition which would still be fresh in the public’s memory when the handing out of rewards commenced. So he joined Eve’s party and promised himself that he alone would garner the credit. However he soon learned that Eve commanded the expedition. All through the first day’s journey Kraus made that plain.
Bypassing Rosita O’Malley’s posada shortly before the Kid arrived, they pushed on a further two miles and made camp. Next morning, following Eve’s orders, they continued to go west along the banks of the river. They travelled fast, changing horses as needed. Visiting various gathering-places for the criminal element, Kraus reported on the lack of men present. Twice the party were halted and challenged by armed gangs, to be let pass after establishing their identity. On one occasion they fought off a bunch of Mexicans who objected to another party apparently on the trail of Ysabel and the money. At Nuevo Laredo, Kraus went into town with one of his men while Eve and the remainder stayed outside. He returned with news that both the French and Juaristas were interested in the gold, adding more searchers for Ysabel and the Rebel Spy.
At noon on the day after passing Nuevo Laredo, the party met up with the launch flotilla and its commanding officer reported on his activities. He had taken his command along the river as far as Piedras Negras, returning without the Texas citizens of Eagle Pass learning of their presence. Telling the officer of her plans, Eve arranged for him to patrol between Piedras Negras and Nuevo Laredo. Then, if they received word about Ysabel and Belle Boyd reaching Klatwitter, it could be acted upon without waste of time.
While Eve was conversing with the U.S. Navy lieutenant, she saw Kraus talking to Golly. The two men stood clear of the others and she noticed that Golly pointed across to the Texas bank of the river. When questioned, Kraus said that he and Golly had discussed the chances of meeting with Texan opposition.
Leaving the flotilla to complete taking on wood for fuel, the party continued its journey. The day went by without incident, so did the next until the late afternoon. By that time they had come close to the town of Nava, although still sticking to the river. As usual Kraus had men ahead as scouts. With the proximity of the danger area, he used two instead of the usual one scout and they returned in some haste. Then followed a conversation in Spanish so rapid that neither Eve nor Ffauldes could follow it. Eve caught one word, ‘Danvila’, probably because it came several times and was spoken with some feeling.
“What’s wrong. Mr. Kraus?” she asked.
“We’ve got to turn back,” he replied. “There’s a big bunch of Juaristas up ahead.”
“We’ve no quarrel with them,” Eve stated. “And I’ve a letter from our consul in Matamoros explaining our presence.”
“Maybe you won’t get time to show it,” Kraus pointed out.
“Very well. We’ll go and make camp by the river until the flotilla comes by.” Eve decided. “With two cannon and a Gatling gun at our backs, they’ll listen.”
A point with which Kraus could not argue. In fact he seemed more cheerful at being reminded of the flotilla’s assault armament. As she had never seen one, Amy-Jo had failed to identify the six-barreled, .58 caliber Gatling gun the lieutenant’s launch carried in place of the usual 12-pounder boat howitzer. Such weapons, especially the Gatling gun, would impress the Juaristas and make them amenable to discussion.
Raising no more objections. Kraus led the way farther upstream until finding a suitable campsite. Tired from the hard, long journey, Eve removed her boots and rolled fully-dressed into her blankets. She fell asleep almost immediately and deeply. Just how deeply she discovered on waking.
The morning sun hung just above the horizon as she sat up and reached to where her boots should be. Then her sleep-slowed mind registered that something must be wrong. She heard Mexican voices, which did not in itself surprise her for few of Kraus’ men spoke English. What came as a surprise was the high-pitched tones of women mingled with the voices of the men. At the same moment she became aware that her boots no longer stood by the bed.
Jerking upright, Eve stared around her. There was no sign of Kraus and his men. Instead half-a-dozen well-armed, hard-faced men in vaquero dress and two pretty young women stood around the camp. One of the women was drawing on Eve’s boots, while the other petulantly watched a man upending Eve’s saddlebags.
“If you look for Charlie, señorita,” said the tallest of the men, walking towards Eve. “He’s gone.”
“Who are you?” she demanded, glancing to where Ffauldes was sitting covered by one of the newcomers’ rifle.
“Joaquin Sandos, señorita,” the man replied. “Didn’t Charlie speak about me, or tell you his fellers saw Pancho there yesterday and know we come looking for him?”
“He didn’t. Why do you want to see him?”
“He not tell you much, señorita. Didn’t he say how I’m Cosme Danvila’s segundo?” Sandos asked. “Him and Cosme, they not good friends since Charlie shoot Cosme’s brother and leave his sister with a little niño. I never think to see Charlie this far west. Unless he hear that Cosme across the river in Texas on—business.”
“I see,” Eve said quietly.
Which she did. Clearly Kraus had only accompanied her that far because Golly had brought him word of his enemy’s absence. She remembered the pointing across the river when they met the flotilla. Then Kraus must have learned the previous afternoon that not all Danvila’s band had gone on the raid. The story about a Juarista force had been fabricated as an excuse to turn back. Probably Kraus was hoping for the arrival of the flotilla. When it did not come, or possibly because he had learned that Sandos’ party was drawing near, Kraus slipped away with his men. Eve could even understand why he had deserted her. Neither she nor Ffauldes could handle horses quietly in the dark, or stand up to a hard, fast flight. So, to Kraus’ practical way of thinking, leaving them behind offered the only solution.
“Maybe Charlie leave her as a presen’ for Cosme.” suggested the man searching Eve’s belongings.
“No. He was guiding me to El Paso,” Eve answered. “My husband is in the army there.”
“You not a Tejano, señorita; and you don’t wear a wedding ring,” Sandos pointed out. “And there’re no soldiers at El Paso.”
“She’s an important member of the United States Government,” Ffauldes put in. “So am I. Show them that letter from the consul, Miss Coniston.”
“Can I?” Eve inquired and, receiving Sandos’ nod, took the letter from the pocket of her divided skirt.
However, if the way Sandos examined the sheet of paper was anything to go by, he could not read the consul’s request that Eve be given free passage through to El Paso.
“You got ’nother pair of boots, señorita?” Sandos asked, thrusting the paper into his pocket. “Rosa and Juanita never had any before and Rosa wants a pair.”
“Look, mister!” Ffauldes put in, standing up and showing that he was not wearing a gun. “She’s real important, but I’m not.”
“Shut your mouth!” Eve hissed and then smiled at Sandos. “I’m not important at all.”
“Is a pity if you’re not, señorita. If you not Charlie’s amante, sweetheart you call him, maybe somebody pay good to get you back.”
“You can bet they’ll pay to get her back!” Ffauldes agreed eagerly. “There’re three small steam boats on the river. If you let me go to them, they’ll take me to Matamoros and I’ll bring you the money.”
“I’ll just bet you will!” Eve hissed.
“The señorita she don’ trust you, hombre,” Sandos remarked.
“What have I to lose?” Ffauldes spat back. “Let me go to the boats and I’ll arrange everything.”
“Go get on your horse, señor,” Sandos ordered. Without as much as a glance at Eve, Ffauldes started to obey. Sandos nodded as Ffauldes walked towards the two horses left by Kraus. Even as Eve opened her mouth to scream a warning, two rifles cracked. Lead ripped into Ffauldes’ back and he sprawled face down on the ground. Letting her breath out in a gasp, Eve tried to go towards the stricken man.
“I think he wouldn’t’ve come back, señorita,” Sandos remarked, stopping her. “He look like my Uncle Sebastian and he one big liar. Will anybody pay to get you back?”
For a moment Eve did not reply. Then she realized that her only chance of staying alive would be to answer in the affirmative. Resistance would be futile, so she decided to go along with what might offer her a hope of escape.
“Yes. They’ll pay to get me back. Or the authorities over the border will give you money for me. I’m a United States agent. If you look for the boats, they’ll go at top speed to Brownsville for the money.”
“You a spy for the Estados Unidos, heh?”
“Yes.”
“I think you tell the truth this time. But it for Cosme to say what we do with you.”
“Is Señor Danvila hunting for Sam Ysabel?” Eve inquired, suddenly realizing that Sandos had not mentioned the matter.
“Nobody goes hunting for Big Sam, señorita,” Sandos replied. “Not if they want to stay alive.”
“Even if he has fifteen thousand dollars in gold with him?”
“You make the joke with Sandos, no?”
“I’m not joking, señor. Ysabel and the Rebel Spy, a girl, are taking the gold to the French general at Nava.”
“Maybe they won’t get it there,” Sandos grinned.
“Why don’t you go and find them?” Eve asked.
“With six men?” Sandos scoffed and spoke to his companions.
Eve judged that he was telling them the news and all seemed to find the latter part highly amusing.
“If you don’t believe me, send one of your men along the river to find the boats,” Eve said. “They will tell him, the sailors. Or he could go to Pasear Hennessey’s cantina. Kraus’ man, Golly, came up river with the boats to tell everybody about Big Sam and the money.”
“Nobody from Charlie Kraus would come near us, señorita,” Sandos replied. “We take you to our camp and I send for Cosme. He say what we do.”
They mounted Eve on the sorriest of their horses when ready to move out, one which looked incapable of outrunning a turtle in its sway-backed, gaunt-ribbed condition. Gathering up all they wanted and hiding Ffauldes’ stripped body in the bushes, the men and girls surrounded Eve and rode off. Instead of sticking to the river’s bank, they rode parallel to it but some distance away. However the country was open enough for Eve to see the water and she scanned it eagerly in the hope of seeing the flotilla.
Manned by veterans of the Mississippi Squadron, who carried Navy Colts, cutlasses and Spencer carbines in addition to the cannons and Gatling gun, the three launches held the means of her escape. Although sailors, the crews knew plenty about land fighting and, if they heard of her capture, might contrive a rescue.
“Look!” one of the men said, pointing towards the river.
The three launches came into sight, going upstream. Instantly the Mexicans gathered closer about Eve and a knife’s point pricked against her ribs. Wisely she kept quiet and the launches went by without knowing of her presence. Then Sandos grinned at her.
“You behave good, señorita and I think maybe you tell the truth.”
Riding on, the Mexicans kept a watch behind them but the launches did not return. The river curved through a valley at that point, the Texas shore rising plainly on the other side. Down below Eve, thick clumps of bushes grew down to the water’s edge, interspersed with open patches of sandy beach that would be bays and back-waters in time of flood. Ahead the country became more open than ever and the bushes ended on a large patch of open beach.
A horse whinnied from among the bushes, the sound chopping off as if stopped in some way. Immediately the party came to a halt. An order from Sandos sent three of the men riding cautiously towards the source of the sound and the other three held rifles ready for use. Not that Eve saw a chance to escape, for the two girls flanked her holding knives ready for use.
Suddenly a rider burst into view, racing down the slope towards the river. Eve bit down a startled exclamation at the sight. Dressed in male clothing, with black hair cropped boyishly short, the rider was without doubt a woman. Unless Eve missed her guess, it was the woman, the Rebel Spy.
Flame ripped from one of the advancing trio’s rifle and the fleeing woman’s horse went down, pitching her from its saddle. She landed sprawling on the soft sand and, before she had recovered, the three men advanced surrounding her. Bending down, one of the three pulled the Dance Brothers revolver from her holster. Then he waved his companions to join him and the woman sat up.
Eve sucked in a deep breath as she rode with the others down the slope. It seemed that the Rebel Spy had fallen into the Mexican bandidos’ hands. The problem facing Eve was what to do about it.