Slocum and the Bandit Durango, page 11
“Yes, it did. Gracias.”
“They said she was very good.”
There was a rider coming down the road. Durango stepped outside and combed his hair back. The young man was a stranger to him. He bounded off the horse and rushed up, looking very excited at both of them.
“Who is Durango?” the boy, who was in his late teens, asked.
“I am. Who are you?”
“Miguel Marietta. I use to live here with my Aunt Veronica. I work at the Palomino Mine. But I was in Palo Alto last night and a man told me that there was an army coming up here to run those bandidos off.”
“An army?” Durango said too loud.
“Sí. Sí. There is an hombre named Slo-dum coming with an army of men to fight you.”
“You mean Slocum?” He stared hard at the boy.
“That’s his name. Yeah, that’s it. Do you know him?”
“Yes, we know him. Was he there already at Palo Alto?”
“No, Señor, but he must be coming this way hard I was told.”
“No mention of how many men he has?” Tomas asked.
The youth shook his head.
“Are you here to visit?” Durango asked.
“Yes, to see my aunt. She is like a madre to me.”
“Thank you for the news. We will be ready for this bandido Slocum and his army. I owe you for this news.”
“No, no. I love this valley and coming back here. I am glad my aunt is protected by you.” The youth excused himself, bolted into the old saddle, and crossed the ford.
Slocum, that son of a bitch, was coming. Bringing an army, too. Durango began to pace back and forth under the grape arbor looking at his once-pretty boots. What would a general like Napoleon do about such an attack?
“We better warn Mateo,” Tomas said.
“I have a plan.”
“What is that?”
“All that blasting powder we got in that pack train robbery. We can set charges on that mountainside on the north side above where the trail is so narrow. Trap his men in there and blow it up.”
“That would be how to handle a large number of men.”
Durango looked across the stream at the washerwomen, thinking hard about this new problem. “We would need to set it up quickly. Get as many men as you can and go do that today. Tell Mateo to be on the lookout for any of Slocum’s spies trying to come in.”
“Yes, Captain.”
In a few hours, they left for the east pass using horses, mules, and burros for pack animals. There was much braying, kicking, and cussing going on. But they soon formed a line and rode for the pass with men alongside on horseback whipping the laggard animals.
It would take them a day to get it done right. But when it was set, Durango could imagine an army buried under the rocks, gravel, dirt, and trees that would rain down on them. A perfect solution. He felt so much better later that afternoon that he ordered Nalda, the bar maid, to bring him enough hot water for a bath.
He had some clean clothes he had been saving. They were from a dead rich man, but he had no fears about wearing such things. The white shirt was made of silk and the pants cotton, but not hard-woven cotton such as most workingmen wore. If his butt kept improving, he might go and see Señora Valdez at the end of her school day. He had done her many favors—he was ready to collect on her debts to him.
Nalda brought the steaming water in wooden buckets, and he soon was in the copper tub soaking his sore butt. It felt good.
Slocum—he was coming with a damn army. That son of a coyote bitch.
14
Slocum held Doña tight in his arms—her firm body pressed hard against him. He didn’t want to let her go. Enrique stood close by in the night holding their horses’ reins.
“I know we need to know what they have planned down there. But promise me to take no chances. Both of you. They are vicious killers. Him and his henchman Tomas.”
“I will learn all we can,” Enrique said. “But if we all go into Palo Alto together, someone will see we are with you.”
“We’ll be there tomorrow night,” Slocum said, knowing the young man was right. There were spies all over who for ten centavos would tell Durango anything. “You two be careful going into the valley. Is there anyone to hide you there?”
“Yes, there will be some of the resisters to hide us. One man’s name is Carlos Sanchez, the other Burt Valdez, who is a smart man. He’s an engineer for the mines. We will be careful passing through Palo Alto not to be seen.”
Slocum nodded. He’d heard those men’s names. He tossed Doña on the horse, then clapped her leg. “Take good care of yourself.”
She planted a kiss on his forehead and she and Enrique rushed off in the night. Slocum had bad feelings about them going into the valley, but he needed information on the size of Durango’s force and the arrangements, if any, to fortify the place.
They all missed Enrique and Doña the next morning when they had to pack out with no hot breakfast to eat. Dyke grumbled all day about letting their cook get away.
“I’ll buy your dinner in Palo Alto,” Slocum said finally to shut him up.
“I want a beefsteak cut off a fat steer that’s the size of a saddle blanket and slow-cooked over a mesquite fire.”
“Probably be oak,” Slocum said over his shoulder. “This high up.”
“And maybe a woman with big tits to serve it like the one back there,” Buck said.
“Was her name Rosita?” Dyke said, riding in to spank a lagging mule with the tail of his rope.
“Damned if I know, but she sure had a set of ’em. Wasn’t there a redhead up here at Palo Alto last time we were here?” Buck asked.
Slocum nodded. “Angelita was her name.”
“Tell you what, Dyke. There are some damn pretty women in these mountains.”
The mules went to braying, and Slocum saw a rider coming off the mountain though the pines on a short-coupled mountain horse. The pony had a great swinging walk. It was a deep-colored sorrel with a blazed face. The rider was a straight-backed man who had been to cav school, because he rode square-shouldered.
He stopped his horse on the flat and waited for them. Then he rode over and shook Slocum’s hand. “Burt Valdez. Glad you are here.”
“Slocum’s my name. Enrique said you’d be around the area.”
“Is he with you?” The man looked around the train for him.
Slocum shook his head. Something made him cautious. Valdez might be all right, but Slocum wasn’t telling him everything until he knew him better—in Mexico men could be on one side one day, another the next.
Slocum finally spoke. “He’s to meet us in a few days.”
“There are more men coming?” Valdez asked, looking shaken.
Slocum shook his head. “Buck, Dyke, and me. And Enrique.”
“But the word was that you had an army of men.”
“Whoever said that must have been cross-eyed and counting double.”
“These men are killers. We have lost over a dozen men to their treachery. They have even murdered three small children and a woman and raped many more. It will be hard to fight against so many.”
“We’ve heard part of it. How many men does Durango have?” Slocum asked, letting the animals breathe in the thin mountain air.
“Maybe two dozen. All well armed. All cutthroat killers from the prison.”
“Unless we can enlist some more men up here or out of the valley, then we must divide and conquer them.”
As if in defeat, Valdez dropped his chin. “We have failed at that so far. The men left in the village are too afraid to raise a hand to help us. I can’t blame them. So many of their good friends have died a bloody death.”
“I understand what you are saying. Meet Dyke and Buck,” Slocum said.
Valdez rode over and shook their hands. “Gracias. I am sorry, but I am so concerned about this matter and so far all of our plans have failed.”
“Let’s talk and ride,” Slocum said, anxious to get the animals put up and settled in. They were still several miles from the village.
“What can I say?” said Valdez. “They pardoned Durango, I’m told. Maybe his mother found the money. The word is he had some money stashed from past robberies and she used it. Then he got his henchman Tomas out the following month. He kept buying pardons until he had enough men to take over the valley. They have guards in this east pass and some in the south.”
“How many?”
“Three or four at each one. They won’t let you in. They’ll shoot you unless you have a pack train of supplies.”
Slocum twisted and looked back over his train. That might be an idea.
“The man in charge of the east pass slips into Palo Alto and has an affair with another man’s wife. But we saw no reason to capture him up till now.”
“Now there may be a reason. Durango must have a way of being warned.”
“Oh, I never thought about that. A way to signal him that trouble was coming, right?” Valdez reined his horse around a large boulder that split the trail.
“Exactly. Will this woman cooperate with you?” Slocum twisted in the saddle to wait for his reply.
“That I don’t know. But we can capture him away from his post.”
“Good first step.”
Valdez shook his head. “I’ve met a few men in my life that would have scoffed at such odds as we face and acted much like you do. I see perhaps why you were able to take him to the federales last time.”
“Buck back there gets half the credit.”
Valdez turned in the saddle and nodded at Buck. “I guess I expected a hundred mercenaries.”
Slocum laughed. “These horses, mules, and supplies were all charity. Hell, man, where would we have gotten the money for mercenaries?”
“I’m not sure. I guess I listened to too much gossip.”
“Some great general said divide and conquer. I’ve used that philosophy for years and it will work. Where can we store these supplies and put up the animals?”
“The Palomino Mine. I do some engineering work for the manager and he will see nothing happens to anything.”
“Is it close to the village?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I promised those two a good supper. They missed breakfast this morning.”
“What would they like?”
“Beefsteaks, large size.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Now you’re talking,” Dyke shouted. “Big ones.”
Late in the afternoon, they rolled into the Palomino Mine’s pens. The mine was well guarded and Slocum could see there was lots of security there. Dave Burton, the mine manager, welcomed them and assigned some men to help them unpack.
Being an American, he had many questions to ask them about what was happening at home. He was a New Yorker who after so many years of working in Mexico had lost some of his accent.
“Of course I have no proof—they must have murdered my packers and dumped their bodies—but I believe this Durango stole an entire pack train of blasting powder, caps, and sticks. Some of my mules were later found by officials in Juarez. The man who had them claimed he caught them running loose.”
“Durango has a long record of being a bandit. Thanks for putting our animals and goods up. We should not be long,” Slocum said.
“Take as long as you need. I want Durango gone from these mountains.”
“We’ll try to make it quick.”
They hiked with Valdez back to the village. Slocum noted that the man appeared as comfortable walking as he did riding. His new associate seemed to be a real outstanding person. Slocum even felt niggled that he didn’t have an army of mercenaries with him.
This village, like so many of these small clusters in the Madres, was on a stream with a wooden bridge to join the two sides. Slocum could see from the dried trash that a flood had recently been through there. “You had some rain?”
“Big rain. Too much, too fast. It drowned many people.” Valdez shook his head.
“I saw the high-water marks on this bridge.”
A short climb up the steep road, and Valdez sent them to a cantina while he went to find the meat he’d promised them. The bartender, Benito, apologized that his liquor supplier, who came up through the valley, had not delivered anything to him in weeks, but said he did have red wine.
Slocum ordered a gallon of it, and the three took seats around a table on the patio as the sun edged downward. It felt good to be off his horse. But he still felt like he was in the saddle. Where were Doña and Enrique?
Valdez returned with the meat and said Benito was a good chef. He delivered it to the man, and came back out to join them.
Half standing, Slocum poured him a glass of wine. “How else can you get in the valley since they have the roads guarded?”
“Oh, if you’re half goat you can take a dim footpath down into the canyon. The rain and flood trapped some of our men in there and he slaughtered them.” Valdez shook his head in disapproval. “Once we used a windlass and got some men in and out on the south end, but it was too dangerous. We did send them back a Yaqui killer named Snake—dead in the cage.”
“Slocum and I couldn’t find him when we rounded up Durango the last time,” Buck said. “He was dangerous as any rattler and earned that name.”
“Yes, and he was Durango’s tracker. No man could match him either.”
Good, that meant there was one less of the tough ones, thought Slocum. He toasted the others with his goblet. “To Durango’s demise.”
A young boy came and stood by Valdez. He whispered something in his ear. Valdez nodded and paid him ten centavos.
“Muchas gracias,” the boy said, looking delighted at his reward.
When he was gone, Valdez leaned forward. “We have plenty of time to eat. He just told me that our man is in the house. Her husband is gone and that means he usually stays the whole night.”
Slocum nodded. “Eat hearty, guys, we may have some work to do.”
Valdez agreed.
Full of beef and beans, they set out in the shadows of a night of stars and barking dogs. When the house was surrounded, Slocum and Valdez eased to the open front door. The jacal was dark, but the sounds were obviously of two people actively engaged in sex, with grunting and groaning and the slapping of skin on skin. Their guns drawn, the two men went inside, Slocum in the lead. He could make out the two people on the pallet and stepped over to clunk the man hard on the head with the butt of his pistol—he went down like a poled steer on top of the woman.
She began to scream, but Valdez was on his knees beside her; he covered her mouth. “Shut up or your husband will know all about this.”
That worked. Slocum dragged the limp man off her. The man began to moan. Slocum shoved the pants off the floor in his face. “Put them on and be quick.”
“Who in the fuck are you?” He sat on his butt, shoving his feet in the pants.
“The man who is going to rack your ass.”
“All right. All right. Did her husband hire you?”
Seated with her back to the wall, the woman let out a small scream at his words, hugging a blanket to hide her nakedness.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Slocum said, shoving the shirt at him. “Now get up. I ain’t got much patience, so move.”
“All right. All right.”
“Remember,” Valdez said to the woman, shaking his finger in her face. “If you speak one word of this, your husband will know the whole story.”
She crossed herself, and held up her hands clasped together. “I swear to God I will tell no one.”
“Good. See that you don’t,” Valdez said.
They hustled the barefooted Mateo through the starlit night and into a nearby shed, and sat him down in a high-back chair for interrogation. A candle was lit and put on the table, and Buck tied Mateo’s hands behind his back and to the chair.
“We want to know everything about the guards in the pass,” Slocum said.
Mateo spit on the table.
“That wasn’t smart,” Slocum said. “I can jerk your toe-nails out one at a time, then start on your fingernails. You’ll want to talk when I get through with you.”
“Fuck you.”
Slocum caught him by the shirtfront with his left hand, and slapped his face back and forth with his right hand. “I’m going to clean your talking up, too. You savvy?”
“All right.” Blinking his eyes, Mateo tried to look around and see all of them. “Then you kill me?”
“It depends,” Valdez said with his arms folded over his chest.
“Depends on what?”
“Did you kill any of our men in the canyon?”
Mateo shook his head. “I stay at the pass all the time. And if you give me a horse, some food, and a canteen, I’ll ride so fast from here it will spin your head around. Wait, wait, I’ll tell you all his signals and what he planned for you hombres.”
“The straight of it?” Slocum said.
“Every damn detail.”
Valdez looked at the others. Buck nodded and so did Dyke and Slocum.
“Start at the beginning,” Valdez said. “You lie to us and we’ll cut your throat. Tell us the truth, you can ride.”
Mateo nodded. “There are three other men at the pass. They are very lazy and it will be easy to jump them without me there.”
He looked around in the flickering light for their nods before he continued. “A bunch of his men were up there a day ago setting charges on the mountain so when this army of Slocum’s gets past the guards, they will blow it up and bury them.”
“The guards were going to let them in?” Slocum asked.
“That’s his plan. One man at the gate, the others hide, and they set off the blasting powder when Slocum and his men are in the canyon.”
“Did he steal that from the Palomino Mine pack train?” Valdez asked.
“I wasn’t with him if he did. There are two stacks of fire-wood up on the peak. One’s got lots of boughs in it—it will smoke. The other one will smoke less but make a helluva fire.”
“How were you to use them?” Slocum asked.
“Use the smoky one for the daytime to say that Slocum’s army is coming. The dry wood at night so they can see the blaze.”
