“That’s all right, I ain’t put out with you none,” Boomer said, easing his tone a bit. He looked over at Barney. “Come along, Barney I got some pretty pictures to show you.” Boomer chuckled. “Well, now that I think about it, they ain’t all that pretty. But I’m goin’ to show ’em to you anyway.”
Kyle, Sally, and Doc watched Boomer and Barney leave. Then, Doc picked up his mug of beer and took a drink. “I’m glad Barney came along,” he said. “I knew Cavanaugh—or Jensen as you say—didn’t have anything to do with robbing that train.”
“Maybe not, Doc,” Kyle replied. “But like I said, he’s not off the hook. He is still an escaped murderer.”
“And I’m telling you, there’s no way on God’s green earth that that man who pulled all those injured folks from the train, and who worked alongside me nursing them, could be a murderer,” Doc insisted.
Chapter Fifteen
Before he came in sight of the track, Matt could hear the sound of puffing steam engines, the screech of metal being moved, and the loud banging of heavy loads being lifted and deposited. When he reached the scene, he saw two huge, steam-operated cranes lifting the mangled cars and the twisted and broken wheel trucks from on and around the track, then depositing them onto the long line of flatbed cars that had been brought out to the scene of the wreck. Already, new and temporary tracks had been built around the wreck to allow the work trains access.
Matt was surprised at how much progress had been made in cleaning up the mess. At this rate, they would be finished within one more day, and the passenger and freight trains would be returning to their normal operational schedule.
After getting his horse back, Matt returned to the scene of the wreck, not to watch the clean-up operation, but to get a lead on tracking Cletus Odom and the others who were responsible. He started on the south side of the track where he had found the pickax, thinking this was probably the side on which the outlaws had waited. It didn’t take him long to find the signs of four horses, and the direction they took when they left. He knew this had to be them, because the number of horses, four, matched the number of train robbers, four.
As he examined the tracks, a sudden smile spread across his face. One of the horses had a tie-bar shoe.
“Spirit, I don’t know which one of these sons of bitches are riding a tie-bar shoe, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll lead me to the rest of them,” Matt said as he started on the trial.
The little town of Saucita was American only because it was on the American side of the border. In fact, three fourths of the people in town were either Mexican nationals, or Americans only by an accident of their birth. In layout, the town could have been any village between here and Mexico City, for it was nothing more than a series of adobe buildings built around a center square. In the center square there was a well, and the well was Matt’s first stop. He drew up two buckets of water and added them to the watering trough, which was already more than half full.
With Spirit’s thirst satisfied, Matt led, rather than rode, him across the square to the Cantina de las Rosas. He tied him off at the hitching rail, then checked the right rear hooves of the other horses that were tied there. He hit pay dirt with the third horse he checked.
Matt pushed through the hanging strings of clacking red and green beads, and then stepped into the cantina. There were at least two dozen customers in the cantina, and all were of the same swarthy complexion. There were a dozen or more conversations going on as well, all in Spanish.
Matt stepped up to the bar.
“Ten cents,” the bartender said in English, as he put the glass in front of Matt.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a slap, then a woman’s cry of pain and fear. That was followed by a loud, angry sentence, spoken in English and ringing clear through the cacophonous babble of Spanish.
“You dumb bitch! I ordered whiskey, not this Mexican shit!’
“I’m sorry, Senor.”
“Sorry my ass. Now get rid of this shit and bring me a bottle of whiskey.”
Looking toward the commotion, Matt saw a man who was head and shoulders bigger than anyone else in the room. He had broad shoulders and big hands and he was eating a steak, not by using a knife and fork, but by holding it in his hands. In addition to the woman he had just slapped, there were two other women with him, one sitting on either side.
This was not a handsome man by any means, and the only explanation for his popularity with the women would be that he had a lot of money and was a free spender. Kyle knew that the man fit that bill, because he recognized him as soon as he saw him. This was the one called Bates.
Kyle ordered a meal of beans and tortillas, then ate slowly, all the while keeping an eye on Bates, though without being obvious about it. When Bates left the saloon, Matt walked over to the window and watched as he mounted the horse with the tie-bar. He stayed at the window until Bates rode out of town, then Matt left the saloon, mounted Spirit, and followed.
Matt remained so far behind Bates that were was no way the outlaw could see him. Of course, that also meant that he couldn’t see the outlaw, but that was no problem. Bates was still riding the horse with the tie-bar shoe, which meant he might as well have been leaving a painted trail, so easily could it be followed.
When Bates made camp for the night, Matt did as well, satisfying himself with a strip of jerky and a couple of chewed coffee beans, washed down with a swallow of tepid canteen water.
During the night, Matt sneaked into Bates’s camp. The fire Bates had built before he went to bed was burned down now, though a few of the coals were still glowing. Bates was snoring loudly from the blanket he had thrown out on the ground. Bates’s hat was over his face as Matt moved quietly toward him.
Slipping his knife from his belt, Matt got down onto his knees beside Bates, then brought his knife up to Bates’s throat. He hesitated there for just a second. Then, he cut the top from Bates’s hat. The last thing he did before he sneaked back out of camp was leave a note, pinned to the hat.
