Wait a minute.
Dirt?
The entire floor of the shed was dirt. Whoever had built it had not bothered to build a wooden floor. Even if they had, he might have been able to pry up a floorboard and get at the dirt. The whole point being that dirt can be dug up.
Using his hands he tried to start a hole, but succeeded only in breaking two fingernails. He could have used a large piece of wood to dig with, but all of the wood he’d found on the floor was now in the fire—and none of it had been large enough to use as a shovel.
If only he had a shovel.
His hands went to his belt buckle as if of their own volition. It was fairly large, and it was metal. Quickly he removed his gunbelt, then took off his belt and looked at the belt buckle. The edges were fairly sharp, but would they last long enough to dig a hole in the hard-packed dirt of the floor so that he could slide under one of the walls?
He’d never know until he tried.
Chapter Thirty-eight
“I think I have an idea,” Raquel said.
“What?”
“The man Decker is looking for. What if it is the sheriff?”
“The sheriff a wanted man?”
“Not in our country, but in theirs.”
“And the man comes down here to hide out and becomes sheriff?”
“Can you think of a better irony?”
“If that is true then we must find out.”
“It is logical, my brother. The sheriff is the only other gringo that we have seen in town, and Decker is in no hurry to leave. That just might be the answer! So we must convince him that Decker is hunting him, and that we can help him get Decker.”
“How do we do that?”
“Leave that to me, brother,” Raquel said. “When it comes to men, I can be very convincing.”
“Yes, I noticed that from the wonderful job you did of keeping us out of jail.”
She gave her brother a withering look and turned away. Now all they had to do was hope the sheriff came back sometime in the near future.
Moran felt better with all three of them locked up. He wasn’t too worried about the other three men. They were sure to be hirelings, incapable of thinking for themselves. As long as they didn’t know where to find their bosses, they’d be no problem.
Moran thought about Decker and frowned. The coincidence of too many strangers hitting town at the same time bothered him. It was too much to accept. He decided that there was no time to leave town like the present.
Not right this minute, but certainly today, even if it was after dark.
First, he had to wrap up his business.
With the Palace closed and the girls out shopping, Gloria figured it was time to make her move. Crystal was in her office—the office she shared with Moran—and she was alone. Gloria took out her derringer and garter holster, slipped it on, and then let herself out of her room.
Crystal sat at her desk, sulking. There was no way she could cut Moran out. They just hadn’t been open long enough to make that kind of money. There had to be another way to convince Moran to leave without him wanting a piece of the business.
When the knock came at her door she thought it was one of the girls coming to her with a problem.
That was what she was there for, she had told them. Her door was always open to them.
She was going to have to get rid of the bitch.
When she opened the door she was surprised to see that it was Gloria.
“May I come in?”
“Is there something I can do for you?” Crystal asked.
“Yes, if I could have a moment of your time.”
“All right, come in.”
Crystal closed the door and turned to face Gloria, who had swiftly removed her derringer from its holster.
“What’s this?” Crystal demanded.
“You’re going back with me, Crystal.”
“Back where?”
“To Texas.”
“No!”
“Yes, you are. You have some unpaid debts there.”
“And you’re the bill collector?”
“That’s right,” Gloria said. “I’m the collector.”
The door opened then and Moran stepped in.
“Red, she’s got a gun.”
“I can see that.”
“Well, do something!”
He did. Smiling, he put his hands in the air.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Decker was pleasantly surprised to find that after he had broken through the hard surface, the dirt beneath was loose and easy to dislodge. The belt buckle worked perfectly as a shovel and though it was hard work he soon saw daylight shining through the hole. All he had to do was widen it a bit, and he’d be able to slide out beneath the wall.
Anxious to be out he finally discarded the belt buckle and used both hands to scoop out large portions of dirt. When he had it large enough he pushed his belt and gunbelt through, and then followed.
He had a moment of panic when he got stuck, but by wiggling he managed to dislodge enough dirt to loosen himself, and then he was out.
He squinted at the sunlight, and while his eyes adjusted to it he slipped his belt back on, and then his gunbelt.
Standing up he decided that first he needed a gun, and then he needed to find Moran.
It was time to stop playing around and get the business at hand finished.
He went back to his hotel, and the clerk stared at his dirty, sweaty clothes. He went up to his room and pulled his spare gun out of his saddlebags, a heavy Navy Colt that he had taken from a sailor on San Francisco’s Barbary Coast some years ago. He slid it into the front of his belt and left to find Moran.
He went first to the sheriff’s office, entered cautiously and quickly determined that Moran was not there.
However, Gilberto and Raquel were.
“Well, Raquel.
“Oh, I don’t know what that means, but it doesn’t sound good.”
“I am going to kill you, Decker.”
