“I’m going back to finish that coffee,” Nora said finally.
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Go ahead. And take your time.”
Then there was silence in the room. The lantern lit the room only dimly, and Clint lay on his back, nursing his wounded wrist and thinking. Dan Rodelo had no doubts as to what he was thinking and he knew that, given a chance, Clint would kill him even as he had killed his partner.
The trouble for Clint was that he had no idea what to do. He wanted the gold, and it must be somewhere about; but when he believed the gold had been found he had killed the one man who might have known. There might even be a clue in that mass of papers, but in which one? What kind of a clue?
Rodelo, as he waited, was trying to think from Clint’s viewpoint. The man wanted to kill him, but he would not be likely to take a chance until he had some clue to the gold, or had the gold itself.
Hearing footsteps, Rodelo looked out. It was Nora, carrying the coffee pot and some cups.
“Sam said to bring it along, you might need it.” She placed a cup on the table and filled it for Rodelo, then one for Clint and one for herself.
Dan took his time about picking up the cup, allowing Clint and Nora to take theirs first. Noticing this, Nora said, “Don’t you trust me?”
He grinned at her. “Not when there’s fifty thousand dollars in the pot.”
She sipped some of the coffee, and he smiled and did the same. “You make a mighty good cup of coffee,” he commented, “and there’s nothing better.”
He listened to the night, alert for strange sounds. They would come, he was sure of that. Though how could he be sure? They had been locked up in Yuma prison when he left, but men had escaped from Yuma before, and if anyone could do it, Tom Badger could and would.
His waiting, his listening seemed to taunt the two with him. It was deliberate, for he was hoping to get a move from them at once. He had to locate that gold.
“You’re expecting someone?” Nora asked.
He nodded. “That I am. I’m expecting the men who buried that gold.”
Clint turned his head around sharply, half rising.
“But they’re in Yuma prison!” Nora objected.
“I’m gambling they’ll be here before daybreak,” Rodelo said calmly. “There was a bit of a ruckus at the prison before I got out of town. I’m betting it was them.”
Clint sat up. “They’ll kill us all!” he exclaimed. “Every one of us!”
“Maybe … maybe not.”
Four
Tom Badger drew up and swung his horse off the trail. “Get out of sight, Joe. Somebody’s comin’.”
Harbin swung over, drawing his gun. “It can’t be anybody I want to see, and there’s nobody we want to see us.”
The horse was coming at a good gait, then it slowed, and drew up opposite them. The rider was standing in his stirrups, apparently listening.
“Must’ve turned off,” the rider said, “I don’t hear ’em.” He spoke aloud to himself, as many lonely men do.
“Hell!” Harbin was exasperated. “It’s Gopher!”
They rode out to meet him, Tom Badger with considerably more irritation than Harbin. Their own trail was, he was sure, lost back there by the river, and the Yaquis would be trailing south, hunting them. Gopher would know nothing about not leaving a trail and might have been followed right to this point. If so, all their efforts had gone for nothing.
“You fellers gave me a chance,” Gopher said. “When you made a break everybody got all excited an’ everybody was tryin’ to catch you. Three of us made a break. I figure the other two got shot.”
“Let’s get on with it,” Badger said impatiently. “Rodelo will have been there and gone before we get to Gold City.”
The night held no sound but the creak of their saddles. Tom Badger led off, walking his horse slowly until it was safely in the dust of the trail, then he put the animal to a canter and the others followed.
Gopher was a problem, but that could be taken care of, if it did not take care of itself. Gopher had been lucky to escape, for he was particularly inept; but he could not be lucky all the time, and the days ahead would leave no margin for luck.
When they came to Gold City, they walked their horses down the street. A light glowed from the store, but they did not stop. Down the street they saw that there was a light in the adobe as well.
“He’s got here first,” Badger said.
“He’s in the adobe,” said Harbin. “That don’t say he’s found my stuff. Nobody will find it but me.”
“Probably grabbed it and pulled out,” Gopher said.
“And leave the shack all lit up?”
Joe Harbin walked his horse up beside the nearest building to the adobe, then swung down, and drew his gun.
Inside the adobe, Dan Rodelo waited, his face calm. Nora had drawn back into a corner out of range of gunfire. Clint watched from the edge of the bunk. “There’s more than one man out there,” he said. “You goin’ to tackle them alone?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re a fool.” Clint looked at him. “What do I get out of this?”
“You bought in. You killed your partner. You can sit right there, or you can gamble and run for it. You might get away.”
“I’ll stay right here.”
“You do that. Joe Harbin’s out there.”
“So?”
“The only way you could know about this gold is through his woman. And Joe’s a mighty jealous man.”
“It wasn’t me!” Clint protested. “It was Jake.”
“You tell him that. Maybe he’ll listen.”
From out in front there was a sound of a boot scraping on stone, and then a voice called, “Hey, Danny! Come on out!”
“Well, there they are, Clint,” Rodelo said. “You sit right there and they’ll figure you’re in this with me.”
Clint got up suddenly. “I want out. I want to get out of here right now.”
“Go ahead.”
Clint started toward the door, then hesitated. “How about a gun?”
Dan Rodelo drew a pistol from his belt and handed it to Clint, barrel first. “Now face the door. If you turn around I’ll shoot.”
Clint took the gun and stepped toward the door. Then he called, “This ain’t Danny! I want to come out—I want to talk!”
Dan Rodelo was at the back door, easing up on the latch.
“All right,” Joe Harbin’s voice came clear. “Come out with your hands up.”
Clint opened the door, gun in hand, stepped quickly outside, and fired. Three guns cut him down before he got off a second shot.
“You stay there,” Rodelo whispered to Nora, and like a shadow he was gone into the night.
Gopher stepped through the door and paused, peering at the body on the floor. He came on into the room and was followed by Harbin and Badger.
Tom Badger looked slowly around the room, stared at Nora, then at the body on the floor. “Turn him over,” he told Gopher.
The convict knelt and turned Jake’s body over. “It ain’t Danny,” he said, surprised.
“That’s Jake Andrews,” Harbin commented. “And that was Clint Wilson we killed.”
“Clint Wilson?”
“The same,” Harbin replied grimly. He looked over at Nora. “And whose little girl are you?”
“I was with those men … I am nobody’s girl. I am Nora Paxton.”
“Let’s get what we came for,” Tom said impatiently. “Joe, get your mind off women. There’s plenty of them in Mexico.”
“You were with them?” Joe persisted.
“They were going down to the Gulf, and that was where I wanted to go. They offered to take me along, and there was no other way.”
“The Gulf? Why the Gulf?”
“Business … my business, and none of yours.”
Harbin grinned at her. “No offense, ma’am. If you still want to go, you can go with us.”
Badger was looking at her now. “How did they expect to make it to the Gulf?”
“They had a wagon up the street, and they were going to Papago Wells.”
“And then?”
“I know where there is a water hole between there and the Gulf. That’s one reason they wanted me along.”
“I never heard of any such water hole,” Badger said.
“It’s there … a good pool of permanent water, sweet water.”
“If that’s true,” Joe said, “our troubles are over. Okay, you can come along.”
Badger looked at the box and the scattered papers. “I don’t see any gold. You sure Rodelo didn’t get it and light out?”
“Was he the man who was just here? The tall, dark young man?”
“That’s our Danny.”
“He had nothing when he left here.” Then she added, “Clint shot Jake. He thought they’d found the gold when Jake located that box, so he just killed him.”