Slocum and Valenzuela checked their weapons in anticipation of the meeting with Cash, as Pedro once again was launched on an errand. In a short while, Pedro returned. Garcia stopped him beside the table where he sat with Slocum and Valenzuela. “Did you find Cash?” he asked.
“Sí.”
“And did you give him the message?”
“Sí.”
“What did he say?”
“He say that he will be in the street in front of this saloon at four o’clock. He say that he is not afraid to meet anyone.”
“He will only have to meet me,” said Valenzuela. “After that, he will meet the devil.”
In his room at the hotel, Cash dressed. He slicked his hair and put on his hat. He took up his gun belt and strapped it around his waist. Then he took out the revolver and checked it over carefully. It was fully loaded, and it was working perfectly. He took the watch out of his pocket and checked the time. It was 2:30. At last, he rolled up his belongings in a blanket, picked up the blanket and his saddlebags, and went out of the room. He did not go to the stairs that would lead him down to the lobby of the hotel. Instead, he walked to the far end of the hall, where he opened a door that led out to a small landing and a set of outdoor stairs. These took him down to the alley behind the building. He walked through the alley to the stable and went in through the back door.
He stepped up behind the unsuspecting stableman and, taking out his revolver, banged him over the head, knocking him silly. Moving quickly but cautiously, he located his horse and got him saddled and ready to ride. Then he threw a loop over the neck of Slocum’s big Appaloosa. The horse protested, but there wasn’t much he could do. Cash did not know the horse of the other man, that Valenzuela. In fact, he did not know the man. All he knew was that Pedro had told him that Slocum and a man named Valenzuela were waiting for him. That was all.
Cash looked over all the stalls very quickly and discovered that there were only four more horses in there. He put ropes on them all. Mounted up, he rode past each stall, opening the gate and holding the lead rope, then rode out through the back door while leading all the horses with him. This would slow his pursuers considerably. After he had gone a few miles away from Portales, he would turn the animals loose. They would slow him down and get in his way. But at first, he needed them, or actually, he needed to be sure that Slocum and Valenzuela did not have them.
Cash rode out of Portales through the alley, and he rode in a direction that would not take him past the saloon where the two men waited along with the Garcia gang. He rode slowly, making as little noise and calling as little attention to himself as possible. Once out of town, he rode hard for a few miles. Then he slowed again and went on for a few more miles. At last, he turned loose all the horses except the Appaloosa. That one he tied to a tree beside the road. Then he rode on his way.
Four o’clock came and went, and although Valenzuela waited patiently and alone in the street, there was no sign of Cash. Slocum was inside, looking out the window. At 4:15, he looked back at Garcia.
“The son of a bitch ain’t coming,” he said.
“He told my man that he would be here,” Garcia said.
“It’s not the first time he’s lied,” said Slocum.
He walked to the front door and on out onto the sidewalk. Valenzuela looked over his shoulder to see him. “He’s not coming, Valenzuela,” said Slocum. He kept walking. Garcia and all his men came out of the saloon and followed Slocum. Valenzuela fell in step. Slocum went straight to the stable and inside. There, he found the man that Cash had clobbered on the head. The poor wretch was still out cold. He also saw at once that all the stalls were empty.
“Damn it,” he shouted.
“Our horses are gone,” said Valenzuela.
Garcia turned on Pedro. “What’s the meaning of this?” he said.
Pedro backed off a couple of steps, shrugging as he backed. “I don’t know,” he said. “The man told me he would be in the street.”
Slocum stood up from where he had knelt beside the stable man. “Someone had better get a doctor for this man,” he said, but he did not stop to see if anyone had paid any attention to what he had said. He walked to the back door of the stable, which was still standing wide open, and checked the tracks. They had all gone out that way, and then they’d continued out of town. His Appaloosa was among them.
“All bets are off,” he said. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch the next time I see him.”
“You still have to beat me to him,” said Valenzuela.
“And now you have to beat me as well,” said Garcia. “Let’s get going.”
“On what?” asked Valenzuela.
“Pedro and Pancho will stay behind,” Garcia said. “You and Slocum can take their horses. They are all tied back at the saloon. Come on.”
Soon Slocum, Valenzuela, Garcia, and three of Garcia’s pistoleros were riding the trail after Cash. For a few miles out of Portales, the road was tree-lined. Then the trees grew more scarce, and the terrain began to roll with low gradual hills. The hills then grew steeper, and on the sides of the road, large rocks rose up. They had not gone far into the rocky hills before they spotted the horses that Cash had turned loose. Garcia ordered one of his men to take them back to Portales. That left Slocum, Valenzuela, Garcia, and two men following Cash. In another couple of miles, they found the Appaloosa tied to a tree beside the road. Slocum switched the saddle from the horse he was riding to the Appaloosa’s back and climbed aboard.
“It ain’t your own saddle, ole pard,” he said, “but it’ll have to do for now.”
Soon it was too dark to continue safely. The road was unfamiliar even to Garcia. They decided to stop for the night. As they sat around a small fire, wishing they had some coffee and beans at least, Garcia said to Slocum, “This Cash is one no-good coward. I am fortunate that I did not accept him into my ranks.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” said Slocum. “I’ve seen him stand up to a man and gun him. He’s not a coward. He’s just practical. That’s all.”
“Practical,” said Garcia, musing to himself.
“This time we must not let him slip through our fingers,” said Valenzuela. “We made that mistake at Portales. This time we must stop him.”
“We’ll get the son of a bitch,” said Slocum.
They bedded down for the night and slept hungry as best they could. In the morning, they rose and got an early start. In a couple of hours, they came to a small wayside inn, and they stopped and had breakfast and eggs. They learned that Cash had gone through the night before. They did not linger over coffee. They were in a hurry to catch Cash. Somewhat refreshed, they were back on the road in a short time.
As the road narrowed, climbing higher into mountains, one of Garcia’s men spoke to him. “I think it’s not so safe for you here,” the man said. “There’s a reward for you, and there are posters out. I myself have seen them. The sheriffs over here are looking for you.”
“They won’t expect me to come riding through,” Garcia said. “Don’t worry.”
At the top of the next rise, a rifle shot rang out, then two more followed in quick succession. Valenzuela fell out of his saddle. Slocum jumped for cover, and so did Garcia, but Garcia’s two pistoleros fell, both hit. Slocum was behind a rock on one side of the road, Garcia on the other. Each man had his six-gun out. The rifles were still in the saddle boots.
“You see anything, Garcia?” Slocum called out.
“Not a thing,” Garcia answered. “Damn it to hell. The gringo son of a bitch has killed three good men.”
“I’m not killed,” said Valenzuela, lying still in the middle of the road. “I’m hurt, but not killed.”
Slocum was scouring the mountainside. “Where is that bastard?”
“I still don’t see no sign of him,” said Garcia.
“Be still out there, Valenzuela,” Slocum said. “We can’t make a move for you right now, and if he sees you move, he’ll likely shoot again.”
“Don’t worry for me,” said Valenzuela. “I won’t move.”
They stayed there under cover for a long time—it seemed to Slocum at least an hour—with poor Valenzuela lying there in the road bleeding. Slocum had no idea how badly Valenzuela was hurt. No more shots were fired. That could be because Cash had no target. He could be waiting the same as they were. At last, Slocum decided that it was time to do something.
He stood up slowly, watching the rocks above him, waiting for a shot. None came. “Garcia,” he said. “I think the son of a bitch is gone.”
“Don’t be too sure, Señor.”
“I’m going to get Valenzuela out of the road.”
“I’ll watch for you.”
Slocum moved on out to where Valenzuela was lying. He holstered his six-gun and took Valenzuela under the arms to drag him over to the side of the road behind a small boulder. Still, no shots were fired. He checked the wound.
“It’s not too bad,” Valenzuela said, but his voice was weak.
“It’s bad enough,” said Slocum. He started doing what he could for the wound. Garcia got up and crossed the road to join them there.
“I think you are right,” he said. “I think the son of a bitch is gone.”
“Well, he slowed us down enough,” said Slocum.
“And he narrowed the odds against him.”
“Yeah. He’ll be satisfied for now. He can get more distance between us.”
“Well, I’ve got the bleeding stopped,” Slocum said. “That’s about all I can do. We need to get him to a doctor.”
“The nearest doctor is back at Portales,” Garcia said.
“Go on after Cash,” said Valenzuela. “Leave me here. I’ll be all right.”
“We’re not leaving you here like this,” said Slocum. “Forget it.”
“I’ll take him back, Señor,” said Garcia. “You can go on after that Cash.”
Slocum thought a moment. “All right,” he said. “Let’s get everything ready.”
They caught up all the horses, loaded the two bodies on theirs and Valenzuela on his. Garcia then mounted up. Slocum climbed on his Appaloosa.
“Take good care of him, Garcia,” he said.
“I will, Señor.”
“Slocum,” said Valenzuela. “When you have killed Cash, come back to Portales and let me know, will you?”
“I will, Valenzuela. My saddle’s back there in the stable anyhow.”
“Vaya con Dios,” Valenzuela said.
“The same to you,” said Slocum, and he spurred the Appaloosa forward.
Slocum did not look back. Instead, he kept searching the high rocks. He found a place up there that looked like a good spot for an ambush, and he rode slowly, looking for a way up. At last he found a narrow passageway that seemed to wind its way up toward the top of the mountain. He turned into it and started up. About halfway up, he pulled his Winchester out of the boot. He kept going.
At last he came to the end of the passageway, and he stopped to dismount. There was a natural hiding place there. He walked over to check it out, and he found three spent shells lying in the dirt. It was the place of ambush all right. It was where Cash had stopped to wait for them. But where had he gone? Slocum had not heard any sound of hooves coming down the mountain. The passageway was not that far from where they had been hit. He looked around some more. There was a pile of rocks behind him that looked suspicious.
Climbing up over the rocks, he saw that the trail he had come up continued on the other side. He saw the tracks of a horse and footprints made by a man. How could that be? A horse would not be able to climb over that mess. He studied the rocks some more. At last he decided that Cash had discovered the trail, gone to the top and found his hiding place, taken his horse on over the top of the trail, and then pushed the rocks down to block the trail. When he was ready to make his escape, all he had to do was climb over the pile of rocks and mount his horse. In order to follow him, Slocum would have to move the pile of rocks one at a time.
Cash had really slowed him down. Well, hell, he thought, there’s nothing else for it. He picked up a rock and tossed it aside. Then another and another. He had to stop and rest and wipe the sweat from his brow a time or two. At last he reached the trail. It was clear enough to ride through. He sat down for a moment to catch his breath. Then he got up and mounted his Appaloosa. He rode on over the crest of the mountain.
Cash’s trail was clear from there. Likely, he did not think he would be followed. He thought either that he would have killed them all or that they would not be able to figure out his trick at the top of the mountain. If Slocum was right, then Cash would be relaxed, unsuspicious. He should be able to slip up on him with some ease. He kept riding down the steep mountain trail. At the bottom of the trail at last, he found himself on a road again. He looked back to see the road curve. He looked up at the mountain trail he had just negotiated.
Damn, he thought. It looks to me like I’ve just come back down to the same damn road I was on in the first place. Cash, Slocum figured, was far sneakier than he had been giving him credit for. Looking down in the road, he checked the tracks once more. They continued in the same direction as they had been going in the first place. He rode on.
In about a mile, he came to a house by the side of the road, and he stopped. The door opened, and a Mexican man stepped out. Slocum touched the brim of his hat. “Do you speak English?” he asked.
The man gave a shrug.
“Oh, boy,” said Slocum under his breath. Then out loud, he said, “Uh, agua. Por my caballo?”
“Oh, sí,” said the man with a smile. He pointed to a trough nearby, and Slocum rode to it and dismounted, allowing the Appaloosa to drink freely.
“Gracias,” he said. “I’m looking for someone. Oh, un hombre dressed all in negro. Hombre. Negro.”
The man smiled again and nodded his head. Slocum took that to mean that Cash had been by, and the man had seen him. He thought about trying to find out how long ago that had been, but despaired of trying it. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a coin, which he flipped to the man. “Gracias,” he said. He mounted up and turned back onto the road. Behind him, he could hear the little man calling after him, “Gracias, señor. Gracias, señor.”
Over the next hill, he was astonished to see a city laid out before him. That would make it the more difficult to locate Cash, he thought. He cursed and rode on in. As he reached the outskirts, he met a man on horseback.
“Howdy,” he said.
“Howdy.”
“You see a man in black ride by here?”
“No. Sure ain’t.”
“Just one more thing, pard,” said Slocum. “Can you tell me where the hell I am?”