Nox’s ears stiffened and fixed on the door as they both heard sounds from inside. The sun cleared the lower rim of the gully and shone on the sod roof of the adobe like spilled liquid gold.
“
“
There was a series of shuffling noises from inside the adobe. Then he heard the sound of a latch bar scraping against wood. A moment later the door swung open on creaky leather hinges. An un-shaven, unkempt man wearing dirty baggy trousers, huarache sandals, suspenders over a grimy white undershirt, stood in the doorway, his brown eyes blinking in the glare of the sun. He wore a pistol on a worn ammunition belt. The pistol was a Navy Colt converted from cap and ball to percussion. The bullets looked to be .36 caliber. Deadly enough, Zak thought. He wore his holster low, just above his right knee.
“
“I have money,” Zak replied in English, “in my pocket.
“Yes, I speak English. You are a traveler, you say. Where are you going? You do not look like you need a horse. You are sitting on a fine one.”
“I need a packhorse. Maybe one of those ponies you have out there in the corral.”
The man’s eyes shifted in their sockets. “Ah, the pony, eh? You would buy a pony to use for a packhorse?”
“I’m a prospector,” Zak lied. “I need to carry some ore to Tucson. That is where I am going.”
“Ah, to Tucson? To the assay office? You have found gold?”
“I do not know what I have found.”
“Where did you find this?”
Zak cocked a thumb and gestured over his shoulder. The man looked off in that direction, a look of disbelief on his face.
“There is no gold there,” the man said, and took a half step backward. His face fell back into shadow. “There is an army fort. Maybe you can buy a horse there. I do not wish to sell the ponies.”
“Mister, you step outside where I can see you, or I’ll blow your head off as sure as you’re standing there.”
The Mexican hesitated. His right hand sank toward the butt of his pistol. It hovered there like a frozen bird with its wings spread for a long moment.
“You would draw the pistol on me?” he asked.
“If you don’t step out right now. I’ll draw so fast you won’t even see it.”
The man laughed and raised his arms, wiggled them to show that he wasn’t going to draw his pistol. He stepped down from the doorway and stood there, looking up at Zak.
“You mean to rob me, then? I have nothing. I am a poor man with only those few horses you see out there.”
“Just don’t move,” Zak said, and swung down from the saddle. He let the reins trail as he walked up close to the man. “What do you call yourself?” he asked.
“I am called Felipe. Felipe Lopez. You will not shoot me, eh?”
“I ask the questions, Felipe.”
“Ask me anything. Just do not shoot me. Take the pony. There is no need to kill me over a horse.”
“I want to know who those men were. They were riding those ponies yesterday.”
“Men? What men? I do not know what you are talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me, Felipe, or you’ll hear a rattle.”
“A rattle?”
“Yeah, a rattle. That’ll be the rattlesnake you stepped on, and that would be me. That’s all you’ll hear before I blow your lamp out. I want to know who those men were, who they work for and where they went.”
Felipe said nothing for several seconds, as if he were weighing his chances, or trying to think up a good lie for the gringo.
“There were some men,” he said. “They rode up here and traded those ponies for six of my good horses. My best horses. They were outlaws, I think. They did not pay me. They rode off. I do not know where they went.”
Zak knew the man was lying. He thought he was a pretty good liar. Likely, he’d had a lot of practice.
“That was a good story, Felipe. You ought to thank me.”
“Thank you? Why?”
“For letting you stay alive a few more minutes. Now, maybe you can live even longer by telling me the truth.”
“That is the truth. I swear it on my mother’s honor.”
“I doubt your mother has any honor, Felipe. I heard she was a whore.”
Felipe’s eyes narrowed to slits. The skin of his face stretched taut as his lips compressed, his teeth clenched.
“
