“Why the hell not?” Fargo asked.
Andrews looked pointedly at Ponci.
“Because your friend is going to die,” he said.
Staring defiantly at the doctor, Ponci turned the bottle up and took a couple of swallows.
“And if you don’t watch the way you use that stuff, you’ll be dead before you get out of town,” Andrews said.
Ponci pulled on his trousers, wincing with pain as he did so.
“Look, we ain’t goin’ to hang back none for you neither,” Fargo said to Ponci. “If you come with us, you are going to have to keep up.”
“I’ll keep up,” Ponci said. “Don’t you worry none about me. I’ll keep up.”
CHAPTER 9
It was dark by the time the stagecoach rolled into Oro Blanco. The depot manager stepped out onto the front porch, carrying a lantern with him.
“I was beginnin’ to get a little worried about you folks,” the depot manager said. “You ain’t never been this late before.”
“Sorry, Clark, but we was held up,” Gentry said.
“What held you up? Was there another rock slide across the road?”
“No, I mean held up, as in a holdup. We was robbed by a bunch of road agents.”
“The hell you say.” Clark held the lantern a little higher and looked more closely. “Where’s Kerry?”
“They kilt ’im, Clark,” Gentry said. “He’s lying up here on top of the stage.”
“Oh, hell. I hate to hear that. Kerry was a good man. A little strange sometime, but he was a good, God-fearin’ man.”
The door to the stage opened then, and Johnson was the first one to step out. He held his finger up.
“Mr. Clark, don’t you think for one moment that the stagecoach company is not going to hear from me,” he said. “When a person buys a ticket for passage on the stagecoach, he should have every right to think that the stagecoach will get him safely to his destination.”
“Was you hurt any in the holdup, Johnson?” Gentry asked.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Well, then, this is your destination and you got here safe, so what are you bitchin’ about?” Gentry asked curtly.
“I got here safe, yes, but it was no thanks to you,” Johnson replied. “You would have let them kill me if I hadn’t told them where the money was.”
“Wait a minute,” Clark said. He stared at Johnson. “You told the robbers where the money was?”
“I had to. I didn’t have no choice,” Johnson said. “They would’ve killed me other wise.” He pointed to Gentry. “And he was just going to let them do it.”
“Get out of my sight, you little pissant,” Gentry said. “And you best find yourself some other way to travel from now on, ’cause I ain’t ever carryin’ you on my stage again.”
“What? How dare you talk to me like that?” Johnson said. He looked at Clark. “You are in charge. Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”
Gentry stepped down onto the front wheel, then jumped down right in front of Johnson.
“Did you hear what I said?” Gentry asked.
“No!” Johnson shouted in fear, jumping back from him and holding his hands out in front of him. “Mr. Clark, you saw him threaten me.”
Gentry just glared at him, then stepped behind the stage to the boot ... opened it, and pulled out Johnson’s bag and samples kit. He tossed them onto the ground in front of Johnson.
“Get, I said!”
“Mr. Clark?” Johnson said again.
“If I was you, Mr. Johnson, I’d be gettin’ about now,” Clark said.
With a whimper of fear, Johnson picked up his luggage, then hurried on down the street, disappearing in the dark.
In the meantime Jane, Timmy, and Falcon climbed out of the stage.
“Ma’am,” Clark said, touching the brim of his hat. “I hope you weren’t hurt.”
“I wasn’t hurt,” Jane said. “But the poor little Indian girl who was traveling with us was killed.”
“Indian girl?” Clark asked.
“Yes,” Gentry said. “She’s up on top of the coach with Kerry.”
“Was her name Cloud Dancer?”
