'You'll see,' Conrad whimpered, tears brimming in his eyes as their horses climbed higher into the Rockies. 'My dad will make you sorry for what you've done to me. Both of you will be dead.'
'You want me kill this loudmouth little _bastardo?'_ Diego asked.
'Naw. Let him bleed an' let him cry as loud as he wants,' Cletus replied. 'Ned promised us a ten- thousand-dollar share of the ransom he's gonna get from Morgan, an' we're damn sure gonna collect it.'
Diego frowned a moment. 'Does this Morgan have that kind of money?'
'He's got plenty, according to Ned. We ain't gonna take no chance by killin' the boy.'
Diego put his knife away. 'If he make more noise I cut off his other ear. Then he don't hear so goddamn good when he make all this noise.'
'Suits the hell outta me,' Cletus replied. 'Far as I know he's worth the same to us with or without ears. All we gotta do is find this place Ned called Ghost Valley, an' I've got us a map to it.'
'How come we don't just shoot this worthless little piece of cow shit?'
'We need to keep him alive so his daddy will see he's okay,' Cletus replied. 'That's how we get the ten thousand, accordin' to what Ned told me.'
'I say we kill him.'
Cletus glanced up at the mountains looming before them. 'I reckon that's why you're flat broke, Diego. You leave the thinkin' part to me.'
Diego went into a sulk.
Conrad kept the handkerchief against his ear as their horses began a steeper climb.
Once, Diego glanced over his shoulder at their back trail.
'I do not see nothing, Senyor,' he said.
Cletus turned up the collar on his mackinaw and kept on riding, shivering, wishing they'd brought along more whiskey. There had been plenty of it for sale at Trinidad. All they had between them was a half pint of red- eye.
* * * *
'Shut up!' Diego demanded, sending a boot crashing into Conrad's skull.
The boy screamed, toppling over on his back after the savage blow.
'Take it easy on the little bastard,' Cletus warned. 'We got us a ten-thousand-dollar package there if you don't kill him.'
'It is _muy frio,'_ Diego said, shuddering. 'I don't like to listen to this boy complain.'
'Tie somethin' over his damn mouth,' Cletus said while he was tying his horse in a clump of trees. 'We're gonna make us some coffee so my insides don't freeze. Bring that bottle so we can put a little bite in it.'
_'Por favor, senyor,'_ Diego said, 'but the bottle is almost gone.'
Cletus whirled toward his Mexican companion.' You been drinkin' it this whole time?'
'It was cold, Senyor.'
Cletus jerked out his revolver. 'You got any idea how cold it's gonna be if you're dead, Meskin?'
Diego glowered. 'You would not shoot me.'
'I goddamn sure will if that pint is empty. Fetch it for me now!'
'But there is only a little bit left, _jefe.'_
'If there ain't enough to keep me warm, you're a dead son of a bitch, Diego. I paid for that pint with my own goddamn hard money.'
'Maybeso there are a few swallows, Senyor.'
'There'd damn sure better be more'n that, you rotten Meskin bastard.'
Diego turned toward his horse to reach into his saddlebags. A shot rang out.
Diego Ponce slumped to the snow on his knees with a dark stain blackening his coat. His horse snorted and bounded away in the snow, trailing its reins.
'Never did have no use for a thirsty Meskin,' Cletus said as he holstered his pistol.
Diego began coughing up blood.
Conrad drew back into a ball when the roar of the gunshot faded into the pines.
'You ... killed your partner,' Conrad stammered.
'Diego never was no partner of mine. I couldn't sleep good at night, worryin' if he'd slit my damn throat when he took the notion.'
Dried, frozen blood was caked on Conrad's left cheek. 'I've never met anyone like you,' he said, his voice quivering from the cold.
Cletus grinned. 'Ain't likely that you ever will again, boy,' he said. His eyes slitted. 'You just remember one thing, kid. I'll kill you quicker'n I just killed Diego if you mess with me.'
'I understand,' Conrad said. 'You've made yourself perfectly clear.'
