The Border Empire (19 page)

Just for a few seconds, they were forced to leave the cover of the stored freight, and to gain them an edge, Wes shot the lantern out of somebody's hand. There were shouts of pain as men were showered with burning oil. It bought them enough time to cross the deck to the opposite rail.

“Over the side,” Wes ordered.

El Lobo wasted no time. He seized Tamara and they went over the rail, disappearing in the blackness below. Wes followed, counting on the possibility their pursuers might not immediately realize they had left the ship. Wes treaded water until he got his bearings. The ship they had just departed was anchored near the end of the dock, and with nothing between him and the shoreline, Wes began swimming. He soon caught up to El Lobo and Tamara and was relieved to find the girl swimming on her own. Evidently, the cold water had been a shock. The light from the open door of the warehouse was a welcome beacon, and they reached the shore a hundred yards below it. There was still much activity aboard the ship, allowing Wes, El Lobo, and Tamara to circle the warehouse and come in behind it. The night wind seemed cold, and Tamara's teeth were chattering. There was a welcome growl from Empty and a sigh of relief from Renita. When she could see them in the dim starlight, she realized the girl they had rescued was stark naked.

“She's freezing,” Renita said. “What happened to her clothes?”

“She wasn't wearing any,” said Wes, “and we didn't have time to look around. We had to shoot a guard, and with that bunch shootin' at us, we barely escaped.”

El Lobo had removed a blanket from his bedroll and had wrapped it about the grateful Tamara. The two seemed strangely silent, neither having spoken since Wes and El Lobo had first found the girl imprisoned aboard the ship. He hoped it was a temporary condition, perhaps stemming from shame on Tamara's part and awkwardness on El Lobo's.

“Let's ride,” Wes said. “We have to find us a place to hole up, dry out, and cook some grub.”

They rode slowly, both horses carrying double. Reaching the foothills, they gave up the idea of finding shelter, for there was no moon. Eventually they came upon a creek and followed it to a secluded hollow. There was evidence of other fires, and even some wood, and they soon had a small fire going. Tamara Delmano sat hunched in her blanket, staring into the fire, and none of them quite knew what to say to her. Renita sat on the other side of the fire, equally silent. Wes was about to say something when El Lobo spoke.

“Per'ap we find wood for fire.”

“Yeah,” Wes agreed. “It won't be easy in the dark. Empty, stay.”

El Lobo waited until they were well away from the fire before he said what was on his mind.

“What we do,
amigo?
How we hunt outlaws with
desnudo señoritas
who have not the horses?”

“I wish I knew,” Wes said. “I thought after we rescued Tamara we might return her to her father's house, until this fight with the Sandlin gang is done. But that was before I had Renita on my hands. Pronto, we're likely to have every outlaw in Mexico on our trail. Gettin' ourselves killed was our business, but it's not fair, us draggin' Tamara and Renita down with us.”

“Per'ap they decide,” El Lobo said.

“Maybe you're right,” said Wes. “They have every right to hate this bunch of outlaws. We have to make plans, and we can't as long as they're not talking to us. Let's find a little more wood for the fire and tell them about El Diablo Pistolas.”

 

In Mazatlán, after the furious madam had been freed, she had gone looking for the Sandlin outlaws. Drawn by the shouting and shooting, she found the five outlaws on the dock. One of their number—Shel—ton—was dead, and had just been carried off the ship.

“You
idiotas
have allow El Diablo Pistolas to steal the
Americano puta,
leaving Madam Izona bound and humiliated. Now one of you is dead. Swenson, they have take the
putas
from the ship?”

“Yeah,” the outlaw admitted. “Hell, we drew lots, an' Shelton lost. Wasn't room for more'n one of us down there. Bailey, Rinks, Mannon, an' me was havin' a few drinks. As for your damn house, we just git the whores for you, so much a head. It ain't up to us to see they don't git loose an' run off.”

A crowd had gathered, some of whom had heard the angry madam speak of El Diablo Pistolas. Somebody laughed, others shouted obscenities, while several called for the town's constable. Madam Izona stomped off into the darkness, leaving the outlaws in a situation not to their liking. Without a word, Bailey seized the dead Shelton's arms, while Swenson took his feet, and they all disappeared into the night.

 

While Wes had confidence in Renita, he had no idea where he or El Lobo stood with Tamara Delmano. While she was grateful to them for having rescued her from a fate worse than death, would she be content to ride the vengeance trail with El Lobo? Or would she prefer to return to her home in San Ignacio? But could she return? There was the disturbing possibility that if she returned, naked but for a blanket, Hernando Delmano would turn her away. There was no delaying it any longer, and Wes began.

“Renita, you know I have sworn to destroy the Sandlin gang, because they murdered my father. I hadn't planned on you being here, risking your life as I risk mine, but there is no other way. I've started something I'll have to finish. Tamara, I am saying this mostly for your benefit, because you're in the same dangerous position. El Lobo—or Palo Elfego, as you know him—was shot in the back and left for dead by the same outlaws I've sworn to destroy. For that reason—and for what they've done to you—he rides this vengeance trail with me.”

“Si,” El Lobo said. “They are evil. They must die.”

“My
amigo
is in a painful position, Tamara,” said Wes, “for you have a choice. Unlike Renita, you have a home and a father to which you can return, or you can remain with Palo—El Lobo—and risk being gunned down with the rest of us. In fairness to you, it must be your decision.”

“It is not my decision,” Tamara said, in a surprisingly firm voice. “It is Palo's. He is not bound by his words aboard the ship.”

“You hear the truth aboard the ship,” said El Lobo simply. “I will die for you, but I be
perro,
taking you from your
casa
and your father, to face the guns of outlaws.”

“I have no house and I have no father,” Tamara said. “I wish to return to San Ignacio for my clothing and my horses, and then I will ride with you. To my death, if I must.”

“Madre de Dios,”
said El Lobo.

“Then we'll return to San Ignacio tomorrow,” Wes said.

“If you have more than one horse,” said Renita, “could I perhaps ride one?”

“You may,” Tamara said. “I have a second saddle, as well.”

The ranks of the Sandlin gang had swelled to more than seven hundred men. One of the new arrivals was Black Bill Trevino, one of the lieutenants from Mexico City. Despite the criticism of some of the
segundos,
the massive manhunt proposed by Dolan Watts was approved by Trevino. After consulting with Watts, he and Trevino went before the gathering to explain their proposed strategy.

“Mexico City likes the plan Watts has come up with,” Trevino said, “and they agreed to the rewards he suggested. There's a five-thousand-dollar reward on the head of each of these
hombres
callin' themselves El Diablo Pistolas.”

“Alive or dead?” a dozen voices inquired.

“That's the rub,” said Trevino. “Mexico City wants 'em alive. They want to force the bastards to talk, to find out who's behind these killings. Watts has worked out a plan to start the manhunt.”

“One
segundo
to every ten men,” Watts said. “So far, these hombres have done all their hell-raisin' to the north of here, and that's where we're takin' this manhunt. We'll fan out across Mexico, from Mazatlán to Zacatecas to Tampico. Then we'll move north.”

The proceedings were interrupted by the arrival of a horseman. He ignored everyone else and spoke directly to Brodie Fentress. Fentress, in turn, made an announcement to the others.

“This is Swenson, from Mazatlán,” said Fentress. “Late yesterday, two men busted into Madam Izona's house and took one of the American whores. Last night, they boarded a ship, murdered one of our men, and took two
señoritas
bound for California.”

One man laughed, others shouted, and somebody began firing his revolver.

“Quiet, damn it,” Black Jack Trevino bawled. “If these are the two hombres causing all the trouble, we have to box them in before they move farther south.”

“That's what I thought,” said Dolan Watts, “but this changes things. Mexico is shaped like a big horn, the tip of it to the south. Instead of pushing north, where we'd be forced to cover three times the territory, why not drive them south? While our use of the telegraph is limited, we still might alert our outposts to the south that these hunted men are moving in that direction.”

“Hell,” somebody shouted, “that cuts down our chances of gittin' the reward.”

“Reward be damned,” said Black Jack Trevino. “If we don't stop these marauders, you and the rest of us may find our reward at the business end of a rope. Why were there only five men in Mazatlán?”

“After Watts sent telegrams to different outposts, six of 'em had been sent here for the manhunt,” Brodie Fentress replied.

“Then send them back to Mazatlán,” said Trevino.

“I'll do better than that,” Fentress replied. “I'll send ten more, with my lieutenant, Denton Rucker, as
segundo.
We know that pair of gunmen didn't reach and leave Mazatlán afoot. By God, if there's a trail, Rucker and my boys will find it.”

“Bueno,”
said Trevino. “The rest of you
segundos
gather your men and prepare to move out.”

In a matter of minutes, Denton Rucker had his men mounted and they rode out for Mazatlán. Not quite sure of their status, Swenson, Bailey, Rinks, and Mannon followed.

Wes and El Lobo had no idea what to expect as they neared the huge Delmano house on the wooded rise. They sneaked looks at Tamara, and she seemed composed. As before, when they drew near, someone had told Delmano of their coming. He waited, as grim and unsmiling as ever. When they were within speaking distance, Wes and El Lobo reined up. Wes spoke.

“Mr. Delmano, we have brought your daughter home. She has something to say.”

“I have no daughter,” Delmano said stiffly. “None of you are welcome. Now go.”

Clutching the blanket about her, Tamara slid off El Lobo's horse and began walking toward the house.

“You ...
puta
... you whore,” Hemando Delmano shouted, “go.”

“I will go,” said Tamara calmly, “but not without my clothing and my horses.”

“Then take what is yours,” Delmano hissed, “and do not return.”

He stepped aside, allowing Tamara to enter the house, making no move to follow. He stood there in furious silence, without inviting Wes, El Lobo, or Renita to dismount. When Tamara emerged from the house, she carried a large canvas bag. She was dressed in riding clothes and boots, and secured by a chin thong, a flat-crowned hat rode her shoulders. Surprisingly, a gunbelt circled her narrow waist, and in the holster was a .31-caliber Colt.

“Come with me to the stable,” she said.

She chose to walk. Wes and El Lobo kicked their horses into a trot, following. Hernando Delmano remained where he was, watching them go. Delmano had many horses, but when they reached the stable, two of them nickered in recognition. Tamara dropped her bag of personal possessions, entered the stable, and let out a pair of blacks. They were mares, looking identical, each with a white blaze on its face.

“They're beautiful,” said Renita.

“Madre de Dios,”
El Lobo said.
“Bonito.”

“I've never seen a more perfectly matched pair,” said Wes. “My God, in Texas they'd bring a thousand dollars apiece.”

“I would not sell them for ten times that,” Tamara said.

“I don't blame you,” said Wes. “Where are the saddles?”

Wes nodded to El Lobo, and the two of them followed Tamara to a tack room. From a rail, they removed the saddles she pointed out, while she gathered bridles and saddle blankets. Almost as an afterthought, she took a pair of saddlebags for each horse.

“If you ain't pushing your luck,” Wes said, “we could use some grain.”

“Come,” said Tamara. “We will take some.”

Tamara found four empty burlap bags. Wes and El Lobo filled each of them half full, tying the necks with rawhide thongs. Each bag was then divided, balancing half its contents in each end, so that it rode easily behind the saddle.

“Anything else?” Wes asked.

“There is nothing more,” said Tamara.

She passed the reins of one of the blacks to Renita, and the four of them mounted. As they rode away, Hernando Delmano watched them go. Wes sneaked a look at Tamara and, from the firm set of her mouth and half-closed eyes, realized what the parting was costing her. But she didn't look back, and when El Lobo's admiring eyes met hers, she tried to smile.

When Denton Rucker and his twenty men reached the village, they sensed a change. The Mexicans stared at them, whispering among themselves. The ship flying the Mexican flag was gone. Rucker turned to Swenson and his three companions.