Chapter Seventeen

Captain Gringo stood with the professor near the gently hissing locomotive as the stars came out in a purple sky and crickets began to serenade their sweethearts. They were parked on the deserted spur track amid the dark and empty loading tipples and outbuildings of the abandoned mine. The spur track looped just past the ghost town, so they’d turned around and were facing the main line once more as the men fanned out to secure the area. Robles joined them, carrying his rifle muzzle down, and said, “Nothing lives here but lizards and insects. The bastards didn’t even leave a can of beans behind when they pulled out.”

Captain Gringo said, “Good. Sometimes these old ghost towns attract a hermit or two. If there’s nothing here to salvage we probably don’t have to expect company tonight. I want a perimeter guard posted anyway.”

Robles said, “The people are worried about food and water. There are still the supplies we found in the diner of this passenger train, but they won’t last long at the rate they’re going.”

The professor said, “We shall have to order short rations, of course.”

But the tall American shook his head and said, “I wouldn’t. Most of that luxurious dining-car food is perishable and the ice is half melted. They may as well eat it all before it spoils.”

He saw the old man was annoyed, so he reached in his shirt and took out three cigars. He told Robles, “You’d better put some men out on guard. Have a smoke while you’re at it.”

The peone took the offered cigar and grinned, “My God! What a lovely thing to smoke! It smells good enough to put in a virgin!”

As he walked away, puffing happily, Captain Gringo muttered, “Maxim No. 3 or 4, Professor. If you can’t pay your troops, the least you can do is feed ’em and keep ’em comfortable. Most of these people have never eaten anything as fancy as the food intended for the first-class passengers we put off this train. Ought to keep ’em happy for a while, at least.”

I’m sure you underestimate their patriotism. And what are we to do when the food and cigars run out?”

Get some more, of course. We’re going to have to rob a bank, too. The way I hear it, none of these men of yours have been paid anything for months.”

That’s insane! Where in the devil would they spend the money if we had any to give them?”

Where indeed? They’re not pinned down in a remote desert town any more, Professor. We’re in greener ranching country now. A disgruntled man or two could easily slip away to steal some horses and go into business for themselves. Every time I count noses I seem to come up short a man or two. I make it at least a dozen desertions since we left Vegas Salinas, and we’ve got some distance to go. Right now they’re enjoying luxuries most of them have never had. So I doubt if any will be walking out of here on foot tonight. But you’re right. The goodies on this train won’t last. We need more supplies and cash. Never mind where they think they can spend it. A soldier with coins in his pocket is a contented soldier. He blames the enemy for not being able to buy anything with it. Leave him with his pockets empty and he blames his commanding officers. So let’s study the map and consider funding this revolution properly.”

Damn it, we are supposed to be an army of liberation, not the bandits the government says we are.”

They’re going to call us bandits in any case. May as well make ’em pay for the privilege. How the hell do you think Napoleon paid his troops for twenty years? He was the biggest bank robber since Alexander of Macedon.”

The old man put his own cigar away, unlit, and grimaced, “I leave the tactical details to you, as we agreed. When and where are we going tonight?”

No place. By now the federales expect us to make another night run. They have our general area plotted and must be sweating bullets at a dozen check points as they wait for us to steam into them. I want to give them a few hours to reconsider. By four a.m. or so they should be wondering how we -got through them and where in hell we went. Meanwhile, we’ll paint new numbers on the locomotive and tender, rest our people, and see if we can slip through to the south as an innocent passenger train. I’ve got the regular timetable and if we run a few minutes ahead of the scheduled morning train from Laredo, with the wires down—”

But that’s taking us right for the capital!”

Relax. I doubt if we’ll bluff our way all the way into Mexico City. I’ve been looking at the map some more.

The thing I like about these tracks as you go south is that there are so many more of them. Once we’re south of San Luis Potosi there’s no way for us to reach Tampico. So they won’t expect us to go there. On the other hand, there’s a real spider web of tracks to choose from south of San Luis. There ought to be banks in Queretero or Pachuca, too.”

Don’t be ridiculous! We can’t just roll into a big town and simply stroll up from the station to the bank! They’ll have those new telephones in any bank worth robbing and—”

Sure. As soon as we rob the bank they’ll call the police. The soldiers will block the tracks north and south of any town we hit.”

That’s what I just said! It’s impossible to use a train for a quick getaway after robbing any bank worth robbing!”

Captain Gringo smiled and said, “Not impossible, Professor. Just improbable. I’ll see you later. Got to see about changing some numbers before I find out if my mujer has knifed that blonde yet.”

Some woman was singing “La Paloma” in the blacked-out passenger cars as Captain Gringo crunched down the siding to board the private car at the rear end of the train. It was black in the interior and very quiet. He struck a match and found the lounge was empty. He called out, “Flo? Rosalita?” and heard a girlish giggle from the bedroom.

Holding the guttering match, he entered, then stopped in the doorway to mutter, “What the hell?”

The two women were in bed together, both stark naked, with the sheets balled at the foot of the wide bed. As the match burned his fingers and went out, Rosalita said, “You told me to be friendly. Señorita Flo gave me beautiful soap for to wash with and we’ve been playing a new game.”

He said, “I noticed. You didn’t tell me you were bisexual, Flo.”

The blonde’s voice was husky and sensual as she replied, “You didn’t ask me. Your Rosalita is a lovely little thing, isn’t she?”

He didn’t answer. Even in the darkness he could see them as he’d discovered them in the fluttering glow of the match. The contrast of their bodies as they lay entwined on the bed was piquant, to say the least. He said, “I forgot to ask. Which one of you is the boy?”

Rosalita giggled and Flo said, “We’ve been taking turns on top. She’s mad to be licked, as you doubtless know.”

Rosalita said, “Come and join us, querido. I want to kiss her madly with you inside me! I had no idea there were so many ways to come!”

He muttered, “Hell, when in Rome—” and started peeling off his clothes. He wondered if he should take another bath, then grinned and thought, the hell with it. As both women tittered he climbed in between them. They pressed their naked bodies against his from both sides and he responded by running his hands over both, saying, “Decisions, decisions. Who wants to go first?”

Rosalita rolled on top of him and climbed aboard his erection as a larger perfumed thigh slid across his chest and his nostrils flared at the scent of Flo’s clean but faintly fishy crotch. As Rosalita gasped, “Wheee!” and started to bounce, the bigger blonde husked, “Eat me!”

Rosalita protested, “No. I want that, too! I want to make love crazy! Shove that big pink rump of yours my way!”

Flo laughed and turned around in bed, sinking down with her big breasts against the man’s chest as she raised her derriere with a knee on either side of his waist. He didn’t see how Rosalita was managing it, but she obviously was. He could hear her slurping as Flo gasped, “Oh, yes!” and put her full lips to his. He returned her kiss with enthusiasm as she squirmed sensuously atop him, with his shaft in the other woman. It was wild as hell. In no time at all the three of them were climaxing together. Both women collapsed limply as he just lay there, hoping he’d never wake up. Then the blonde laughed and said, “All right. It’s time for musical pricks!” She shoved the laughing, unprotesting Mexican girl aside and as Rosalita rolled off, Flo moved back to envelop him in her own excited flesh. He responded with enthusiasm, surprised at how tight she was for such a big girl as Rosalita crawled in between them and began to kiss him in turn, her own smaller rear presented for cunnilingus as she kissed him madly.

Rosalita was overexcited and nearly passed out as she beat them both this time. She climaxed with a shuddering gasp and rolled weakly off to get her breath, leaving Captain Gringo and the blonde to finish. Flo made love like a professional who loved her work. He rolled her over to finish on top and they fell nearly out of bed. But as he braced his weight with a hand on the floor she wrapped her long, smooth legs around him and gasped, “Stay like that! I’ve got my tailbone braced against the edge and … Oh Jesus! It’s so good with a real man!”

By the time he got his breath back it was Rosalita’s turn and they experimented with positions. It was hard to say which of them was more acrobatic. Each time he was sure he was finished for the night one of them would come up with another invention and the contrast between their bodies was enough to keep him aroused long past common sense. In the end, as all men born of mortal women must, he was too exhausted to even move. But as he dozed off they were going at it hot and heavy beside him on the crowded, sweat-soaked mattress. As he lay there, drowsy and content, he murmured, “Thank you, God. For a change you’re behaving very considerately. Now, if you’ll just let me live a few more days to enjoy this, I’ll forgive a few of the shitty things you’ve been doing to me recently.”