The Border Empire (35 page)

“You be right,” El Lobo said. “They don't say how much gold.”

“No,” said Wes, “and that tells me it's not enough to get excited about. But it sounds like the Sandlin gang's out of business once and for all, and that will help the military and the Mexican government save face.”

“Now what we do?” El Lobo wondered.

“We go on watching Sandlin's place,” said Wes. “If we're right and some of his gang is laying low, this may bring them out in the open. If I was in their place, I'd be raising hell, and I'd start right over yonder at Sandlin's mansion.”

“Sí,”
Juan said approvingly.

When Juan had left the barn, Wes and El Lobo again climbed the ladder to the loft.

“I think we'll stay here for as long as we can see the Sandlin house,” said Wes. “Even if these outlaws
are
ready to give Sandlin hell, I don't expect them in daylight. It won't be to their advantage to start a fight just when everybody's been told the gang's finished.”

“The
hombre
from the cantina be gone,” El Lobo observed.

“They don't need him anymore,” said Wes. “There'll be no fast ride to Tampico.”

A few minutes before sundown, Jarvis and his followers saddled up and rode out for Toluca. Seeking to draw as little attention as possible, they rode in behind the mansion, leaving their horses there. On foot, they approached the massive front door, and ignoring the brass knocker, Jarvis used the butt of his Colt.

“I'd bet my horse and saddle the varmint don't answer the door,” Klady said.

“You won't find no takers here,” said Tafolla sourly.

Proof of that became evident as Jarvis continued pounding on the door without result. Finally he tried the knob, only to find the door securely locked.

“This place is bound to have other doors,” Handley said. “Let's try 'em all.”

They did so, only to find every door locked.

“Well, hell,” said Undilay, “let's smash a window.”

“That won't help,” Jarvis said. “This place is a damn fort. Every window is barred.”

Even in the dusk, they could see the vertical iron bars.

“Damn it,” said Moke, “he ain't gittin' away with that.”

Beside the carriage house leaned an ax, and Moke seized it. He swung it with all his might against one of the barred windows. There was the crash of broken glass, followed by the bellow of a shotgun. The blast struck Moke chest-high, and what was left of him was flung half a dozen feet.

“God Almighty,” said Zouka, “let's get out of here. That'll draw attention.”

But some of the men had drawn their weapons, and approached the fatal window from the sides, out of the line of direct fire.

“Nobody's in there,” Jarvis said. “The scattergun's rigged to a trip wire.”

“Yeah,” said Canton, “and the rest of the windows and doors may be wired the same way. Any more of you with ideas of breakin' in will have to do it without me.”

One of their number having been cut down without warning had a sobering effect on the survivors. They quickly mounted their horses and vanished into the night.

“No can see,” El Lobo said, following the shotgun blast.

“No,” said Wes, “but listen.”

Sound carried in the still of the evening, and they could hear the creaking of saddle leather as men mounted, and finally the sounds of them riding away.

“Nobody shoot back,” El Lobo said.

“Likely nothin' to shoot at,” said Wes. “It's dark enough. Let's slope on over there and at least see what happened.”

Empty thought Wes and El Lobo were going to supper, but quickly changed direction when they started toward the distant Sandlin house. They circled around until they found the window that had been broken, and even in the starlight they could see the remains of a dead man. Suddenly there was the snick of a hammer being eared back.

“Do not move,
señors,”
a voice said. “You are covered.”

“We've done nothing,” said Wes. “We were near and heard the blast of a shotgun. We came to see what had happened.”

“Per‘ap we may all learn what 'appen,
mañana,”
the voice said. “For tonight,
señors,
it be the
juzgado.
Release your belts and drop your guns. Quickly.”

While the Sandlin mansion was somewhat isolated, the jail was within walking distance, for Toluca wasn't a large village. Wes became aware that Empty was following them.

“Empty,” said Wes, “go. Return to Renita. Go.”

“Silencio,”
their captor said.

The jail—such as it was—had but two cells. Wes and El Lobo were forced to enter, and the Mexican came in after them. He beckoned with the muzzle of the shotgun for Wes and El Lobo to enter one of the cells. He then closed and locked the door, placed their gunbelts in the drawer of a battered desk, and turned back to face them. A lit lantern hung just inside the door. Their jailor was short, fat, and a tarnished star hung drunkenly from the lapel of a coat that was several sizes too small.

“Suppertime be over,” he said. Blowing out the lantern, he departed, closing the door behind him.

“Damn,” said Wes, “if I wasn't so old, I'd cry.”

“Per'ap we both cry,” El Lobo said. “You send the
perro
away before he know where we be going.”

But old habits were hard to break, and as long as Empty could see Wes, he followed. Only when Wes and El Lobo entered the jail did the hound make his way back to Anna Marie's and begin scratching at the door. Cautiously, Anna Marie opened it, and Empty came in. He whined, a distressful sound that said something was wrong and he could do nothing to fix it. José had come to supper, not knowing where Wes and El Lobo had gone or their reason for going.

“Thank God,” Renita said. “Empty, take us to Wes.”

“Please be careful,” said Anna Marie. “I send José for Juan, if you wait.”

“Send for Juan, please,” Tamara said, “but we cannot wait.”

Empty quickly got ahead, paused until they caught up, and then headed unerringly toward the Sandlin mansion. But before crossing the cobbled street, he veered away toward the lights of Toluca.

“Oh, God,” said Renita, out of breathe, “what could have happened to them?”

Tamara said nothing, for they were nearing the village, and their destination soon became obvious. Small though it was, there was no mistaking the jail. It was nothing fancy, for there was no glass in the cell window.

“Wes,” Tamara whispered. “Palo.”

“In here,” said Wes through the small barred window.

“Please tell us what happened,” Tamara said.

Quickly Wes did.

“Anna Marie has sent for Juan,” said Renita.

“Bueno,”
Wes replied. “This Mex is a local constable or something, and I don't see how he can blame the killing on us, for neither of us had a shotgun. He must have arrived about the same time we did.”

“Wait until the morning,” said Tamara. “Juan will know how to get you out.”

That seemed the best way, so Tamara and Renita started back to Anna Marie's.

“I'm sorry they have to spend the night in jail,” Renita said.

“Perhaps it is for the best,” said Tamara, “for they would not like what we do. In the morning, we are going into the Sandlin mansion.”

“Suppose Sandlin's there.”

“You have a gun and I have a gun,” Tamara said.

 

 

S
urprisingly, when Juan arrived and Tamara explained the situation to him, he seemed distressed. He spoke rapidly in Spanish.

“Juan does not know this constable in Toluca,” Tamara said. “He will try to have Wes and Palo released sometime tomorrow, but he says we must go.”

“I'm sorry we've had to involve Juan in all this,” said Renita. “He's done so much for us. We couldn't have lasted this long without him.”

“Juan understands,” Anna Marie said. “He believes you have done all you can do, and wishes you
vaya con Dios.”

Only when Tamara and Renita had retired to the little room they shared did Renita ask Tamara to explain her plan for entering the Sandlin mansion.

“I have a key,” said Tamara. “While we were there, I found it in a desk drawer.”

“But you don't know what it's for,” Renita protested. “There are so many doors in that house, we may never find the right one. Especially if your key doesn't fit one of the outside doors.”

“In my father's house there is an outside door with a key very much like this one,” said Tamara. “If it does not fit the front door, then perhaps the back door. There is a side door that opens to the carriage house, as well.”

“Do you really intend to shoot Sandlin?”

“Much depends upon Sandlin,” Tamara replied. “If this Sandlin is anything like I am expecting, then I will kill him without remorse.”

Renita shuddered, for in Tamara's dark eyes was a terrifying resolve that could not be denied. Yet, with Wes and El Lobo in the clutches of the law, and Juan telling them they must go, how else could they prevent Sandlin escaping scot-free?

 

“I know where we can get some dynamite,” Canton said. “Drop a few sticks of that through them windows, and no more Sandlin.”

“And no more gold,” said Jarvis.

“I don't care,” Canton said. “I'll give up my share of any Sandlin loot just for the satisfaction of blowin' Sandlin to hell and gone. There's nothin' lower than a damn double-crosser.”

“I'm of the same mind,” said Zouka. “Let's wipe Sandlin and his mansion off the face of the earth and ride to Texas.”

There were shouts of angry agreement. Only Jarvis had reservations, and they were not strong enough to provoke a fight, so he said nothing. Sandlin had gone too far.

“C'mon Klady, and help me fetch the dynamite,” Canton said.

Texas Rangers Bodie West and Dylan Stewart were having breakfast.

“So you don't know if the kid's alive or not,” said Stewart.

“No,” said West. “All I know is that since he rode south, the Sandlin gang seems to have gone to hell on greased skids. The last telegram he sent—the last one we know of—he challenged the outlaw gang to a fight in the streets of Mexico City. Can you imagine such a thing? I've been wondering if even Nathan Stone would have done that.”

“Sounds like the boy's standin' in his daddy's shadow,” Stewart said. “I hope he don't get himself killed, livin' up to his old man's reputation.”

“There's been no further word of him,” said West. “The last I've heard of the Sandlin affair was a newspaper account of the Mexican government having seized a ship belonging to Sandlin, along with some outlaw loot. Not a word about Wes Stone.”

“He may have been in some way responsible for the seizure,” Stewart said. “Maybe the Mexican government took all the credit, puttin' themselves in a better light. You know, since Santa Anna's military dictatorship, the
soldados
have been thought of as maybe several cuts below a sand rattler.”

Wes sighed. “I just hope I don't have to telegraph Byron Silver and tell him Wes is dead. Silver took it mighty hard when Nathan was killed, and I know he's had high hopes for young Wes.”

“I've heard some impressive tales about the days Stone and Silver rode together,” said Stewart. “Stone should have had a position with the Federals, alongside Silver.”

“Nathan didn't want it,” West said. “He rode with Silver, but he wasn't bound by the same rules. Young Wes is the same way. Have you ever noticed that a man most willing to die for a cause never earns a dime from it?”

“Come on,” said Tamara. “It'll be light in another hour. We must be inside the house before then.”

“‘Suppose we go through all this,” Renita said, “and then find your key fits none of the outside doors.”

“Then we can do nothing,” said Tamara, “but I will not be content to do nothing as long as there is a small chance.”

They were unable to leave the house without Anna Marie hearing them, and Tamara told the Mexican woman of their plans.

“There is much danger,” Anna Marie said. “Juan would forbid it.”

“That's why Juan wasn't told,” said Renita.

“Sí,”
Tamara replied. “When Juan learns of it, Sandlin will be dead.”

“Or you will be dead,” said Anna Marie.
“Vaya con Dios.”

 

Sandlin hadn't slept. Obviously, the order Jarvis had taken to the disciples had been soundly ignored, robbing Sandlin of the time needed to quit Mexico with the outlaw gold. With one of their number dead as a result of last night's visit, Sandlin had little doubt that the lot of them—including Jarvis—would return. They were the kind, when they learned their share of the loot had been denied them, who would do all in their power to see that Sandlin never left Mexico alive. Quickly Sandlin gathered a few personal items. There was an oilskin pouch of matches, for along the escape tunnel were small charges of dynamite to collapse the tunnel after Sandlin had passed through it. The ticking of the clock on the mantel seemed loud in the stillness. Less than two hours remained....

 

Tamara and Renita had scrubbed all the stain from their bodies and had exchanged the long Mexican dresses for their riding clothes. They again wore their Colts belted around their middles when they left Anna Marie's. To their surprise, Empty was waiting for them and bounded on ahead. They passed the stable where Wes and El Lobo had spent fruitless days on watch, and looming in the distance was the Sandlin mansion.