Once again Clint and Roper rode into town. This time the street were empty. The denizen of Segundo sensed that trouble was coming, and they had taken to their homes, or closed up the doors and windows of their shops.
Clint and Roper saw Gately sitting in front of the hotel and rode up to him. His men came to attention, kept their eyes on the two men.
“You have the money?” Gately asked.
“Half, as we agreed.”
Gately waved at Morehouse, who stepped into the street to peer into the saddlebags as Clint held them open. He started to reach in, but Clint said, “Un-uh,” and closed the saddlebag.
Corporal More house got back up onto the boardwalk and said to the Captain, “It’s there.”
“Very well.” Gately got up from his chair. “Let’s walk our friends over to their prize.”
The Captain and his Corporal took the lead. Clint and Roper rode behind them, with the other men taking up the rear. Clint and Roper didn’t like having those guns behind them, but didn’t think the men would try anything until all the money was involved.
They followed Captain Gately toward the end of town, toward the Wentworth house, but did not go past the town line. Instead, they headed for a large livery stable that had two men in front of it. Wearing grey jackets, they were on guard.
“Open the doors,” Gately said.
“Yes, sir.”
The two men opened the double livery doors.
“Sir,” one of them said, “the lady is inside.”
“Good.”
Gately turned to Clint and Roper. “You can dismount here.”
They did. Clint untied his saddlebags and slung them over his shoulder. He knew if they wanted to take them away from him there was nothing he could do, but nobody made a move.
They followed Gately in, the other soldiers right behind them. Inside they saw a buckboard with a tarp throw over the back. It was surrounded by soldiers—or rather, men in mended Confederate jackets—and standing right behind it, her arms folded, was Gemma Wentworth.
“Here is your precious President Lincoln,” Gemma said.
“Uncover the casket.”
Gemma waved and two men leaped up onto the buckboard and removed the tarp. The casket was double to the one he had seen in the tomb.
“Do you want to open it?” Gemma asked.
Clint and Roper exchanged looks. After all these years would there be anything inside that could be recognizable?
“Can we be alone with it?” Clint asked.
“We can’t do th—” Gately started, but Gemma cut him off, rolling her eyes.
“The stable will be surrounded. Let them be alone with their precious President.”
“Thank you,” Clint said.
Gemma waved and all the solders moved to the front door. When they were outside they heard Gately order, “Surround the entire building!”
When the doors closed the interior was lit only by a few lamps.
“Why do we want to be alone with this?” Roper asked.
“I don’t know,” Clint said.
He climbed onto the back of the buckboard so he could examine the casket closely.
“It doesn’t look like it’s been open.”
“Is it the right casket, or isn’t it?” Roper asked.
“I don’t know!” Clint said. “I haven’t seen the real one in years. I did see a copy they put in its place so no one knows the real one’s gone, and this looks just like that one.”
“Looks like a Presidential casket,” Roper said. “Lots of gold.”
“These screws have not been tampered with.”
“Why not?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean if they hated him so much,” Roper said, “why not tamper with the body?”
“I don’t know,” Clint said. “Maybe they’re more concerned with the money.”
“I think Mrs. Wentworth is,” Roper said. “She’s not so interest in helping the South to ride again.”
“But these men are,” Clint said. “How do you think they’d feel if they knew she wanted the money for herself?”
“They’d kill her.”
Clint nodded.
“That the way you want to play it?”
“That might be the way we have to play it, to avoid a prolonged gun battle.”
“These men … the ones who are trained are older, and the young one probably haven’t been trained.”
“So you think we can handle them?”
“Under the right circumstances.”
“We better figure out a way,” Clint said, “to manipulate the circumstances.”