“That’s right, Fargo, that’s what you done,” Dagen said.
Fargo looked at them for a moment. Then he chuckled. “I’ll be damn,” he said. “You’re right. That is what I done.” He looked over at Carmelita, who was using the edge of the sheet to wipe the blood away from her face. She was weeping quietly, joined now by Rosita, who sat on the bed beside her, trying to comfort her.
“Look, I’m sorry about all this,” Fargo said to her. “I forgot I gave all the money to Ponci. I thought you stole it.”
“Yeah, yeah, well, I guess you got a right to be mad,” Fargo said. He looked at the others. “Where is Ponci?”
“Well, since we was all goin’ to be busy, he got a room by hisself,” Dagen said. He pointed to a closed door. “He’s in that room there.”
Fargo walked over to the room Dagen indicated and tried to open the door. It was locked.
“Ponci,” Fargo called, knocking on the door. “Ponci, you still alive this morning?”
When he didn’t get an answer, he tried the door again. “Ponci?” He looked at the others and chuckled. “Well, what do you know? Ole Ponci must’ve died during the night.” He kicked the door open, then walked inside. “What the hell?” he asked.
“What is it?”
“Come look for yourself.”
The bed in the room was not only empty, it showed no signs of ever having been slept in.
“Son of a bitch,” Casey said. “Where’s Ponci? You think he wandered off somewhere and died?”
“No,” Fargo said. “I think the son of a bitch has skedaddled! The son of a bitch has run off and he took our money!”
“How the hell could he do that?” Dagen asked. “The bastard could hardly sit up on his own, let alone take our money and run.”
“Fargo, you ain’t behind this, are you?” Monroe asked.
Fargo looked shocked at the accusation. “What? Are you saying I took the money?”
“I’m just saying we’re wondering about it,” Monroe said.
“Yeah,” Casey added, and Monroe breathed a sign of relief that he wasn’t issuing the challenge alone. Though Dagen didn’t say anything, he stepped over to stand beside the others.
Fargo could handle any one of them by himself. That was why he was the leader. But even he couldn’t handle all three if they turned against him.
“Look, fellas,” he said, less belligerent now than he had been. “I don’t know how Ponci pulled this off. Maybe he wasn’t near as bad as he let on to be. Or maybe he was just soused down with that laudanum and figured to take his chance. But I didn’t have nothin’ to do with this.”
There was a long beat of silence before Dagen answered.
“I believe you,” he said.
“Yeah, me too,” Monroe added.
“So, what do we do now?” Casey asked.
“Now? We run the son of a bitch down, kill him, and take the money. I mean, faking it or not, he’s more dead than alive. How damn hard can it be to find him?”
When Falcon rode into Oro Blanco that morning, his reception was exactly as it had been when he rode into the Indian camp. Because everyone had known of his mission, nearly everyone in the town came out of houses and stores to stand on the boardwalk and watch him. A few children even ran alongside, keeping pace as he headed for the sheriff’s office.
By the time he reached the sheriff’s office, Sheriff Corbin was standing out front to greet him. Falcon dismounted, and tied his horse off at the hitching rail. The townspeople who had followed him as he rode into town now gathered in the street around the sheriff’s office to find out what had happened.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Sheriff Corbin said, pushing his hat back on his head with a bemused smile. “Here you are, back again, and all in one piece, I see.”
“Still alive,” Falcon said. “Although I’m sure there are more than a few people here and there who might be disappointed by that fact.”
“Did you ...” Corbin started to say, but Falcon answered before he could complete the sentence.
“I personally delivered the Indian girl to her parents,” he said. “If that is what you were about to ask,” he added.
“Yes, it was.”
“Did the Indians give you any trouble?” one of the men in the gathering crowd asked.
“Did you see ole Keytano hisself?” another asked.
“How did Keytano act when you brung his daughter back to him?” still another shouted.
“I had no trouble,” Falcon replied. “Yes, I did see Keytano, and he was like any other parent would be at having their daughter’s body delivered to them. He was grieved, and he was upset.”
“Would you like some coffee, Mr. MacCallister?” the sheriff said. “I’ve got some fresh made just inside. Come on in and have a cup.”
