His voice very low, Vicenti said, “He knows where Dancer is. There is no doubt about it.”

  “I figured that,” said Slocum.

  Back at the corner table, Torrino leaned over toward one of the other five men. “Viviano,” he said, “go find Señor Dancer. Come back and let me know where he is.”

  “Sí Miguel.”

  The man called Viviano got up and walked out of the saloon. Slocum took note of that but made no move. He and Vicenti had one more glass of whiskey each. Soon after that, Viviano returned and went back to the Torrino table. He whispered to Torrino, “Dancer is with fat Rosita. He has been there for a while. He should be coming out soon.”

  The other men at the table laughed. When the laughter died down, Viviano said, “There’s more, Miguel.”

  “More?”

  “Sí. The horses of Tiburcio and Jose have just come into town. They have no riders and no saddles.”

  “You’re sure they are the horses that Tiburcio and Jose were riding?”

  “Sí, I’m sure.”

  “Then someone has killed them. Go to the stable and check on Señor Dancer’s horse. Hurry.”

  Viviano left the saloon again.

  “I wonder what’s going on with them,” Slocum said.

  Vicenti shrugged.

  When Viviano returned again, he was puffing for breath. “Dancer’s horse has not moved for two days,” he said.

  “Then it was someone else,” said Torrino. “Did you see the caballos come into town?”

  “Sí.”

  “Which direction did they come in from?”

  “They came in from the north.”

  Torrino got up and walked back over to the table where Vicenti and Slocum were sitting.

  “Will you buy me a drink?” he asked.

  The bartender put a glass on the bar, and Torrino reached over to pick it up.

  “Sit down,” said Slocum.

  Torrino sat, and Slocum poured his glass full of whiskey.

  “Where did you ride in from?” Torrino said.

  “From Chekov,” said Vicenti.

  “Ah, from up north.”

  “That’s right,” said Slocum. “What difference does it make?”

  “Two of my compadres were riding up north,” Torrino said. “Just now, it seems, their horses have come home alone. These two were very good horsemen. I think someone has killed them along the trail—to the north.”

  “That’s too bad,” Slocum said. “Do you think we did it?”

  “I was thinking maybe you killed them. I don’t know why, but there is really no one else. None of the people who live around here would dare to kill any of my pistoleros . It had to be strangers. I thought about your compadre . Dancer. But I checked on him. He hasn’t been out of town.”

  “Maybe there’s someone else out on that trail that hasn’t come into town yet,” said Slocum.

  “Perhaps,” said Torrino. He drank down his whiskey and stood up. “Perhaps.”

  “Anything could have happened out on that trail,” Vicenti said. “You haven’t even seen any bodies.”

  “You are right about that, amigo,” Torrino said. “Maybe they found some whores and were careless and let their horses get away. Maybe their cinch straps broke, both of them at the same time, and they fell off their horses with their saddles. I doubt those things, but maybe it could have been like that. I’ll send some men out to look for the bodies, but before I do that, Señor Slocum, I think I will kill you.”

  Slocum glanced over his shoulder.

  “Oh, don’t worry about them, Mr. Slocum,” said Torrino. “They know I need no help. They won’t move a muscle to help me. Of course, if you should be so lucky as to kill me, then I won’t be able to stop them. I think they would kill you then, because they love me so.”

  “I got no reason to kill you,” said Slocum. “Dancer’s the man I want.”

  “I don’t think you’ll live to see him.”

  Slocum shoved back his chair. Slowly he stood up and moved away from the table. He managed to move just enough that he could see the other bandidos out of the corner of his eye. If he should have to kill Torrino, he knew that he would also have to start shooting at once at the others. He meant to be ready, and he hoped that Vicenti was as well.

  “Well?” said Torrino. “Go for your gun.”

  “I told you,” said Slocum, “I got no reason to kill you.”

  “Then I will give you one.”

  Torrino’s hand went for his gun, but Slocum was in good form. His own hand flashed, and his Colt was out and cocked and leveled at Torrino’s chest by the time Torrino cleared leather. The bandido chief stopped short. He stood in a crouch, his revolver out of the holster but pointed at the floor in front of his feet. He smiled. Then he laughed.

  “You have beat me, Mr. Slocum,” he said. “No one else has ever beat me.”

  He lowered his gun hand, and then he raised it carefully to drop the gun back into the holster. Slocum, cautious, still held his ready. Torrino raised his hands and walked to the table. He pulled out a chair.

  “May I?” he said.

  Slocum holstered his Colt. “Go ahead,” he said. He waited until Torrino was seated, and then he sat down again.

  “May I have another drink?” Torrino asked.

  “Help yourself,” Slocum said, and Torrino reached for the bottle and poured himself a drink. He took a long swig.

  “You know,” he said, “I no longer believe that you killed my two pistoleros. Or if you did, they must have provoked you. You made me look death in the eyes just now, but I’m still alive. Tell me, Slocum, am I alive because you knew that if you killed me, my pistoleros over there would have killed you?”

  “Maybe,” Slocum said, “but I could have gotten at least two of them before you hit the floor.”

  “I would have killed the rest,” said Vicenti.

  Torrino looked from Slocum to Vicenti with disbelief in his eyes. Then he started to laugh again. When he stopped laughing, he said, “You know, if you had come to me instead of that Dancer, and if you had done me the way you did just now, you would already be my segundo.”

  “Dancer came to you?” said Slocum.

  “Oh, yes,” said Torrino. “I neglected to tell you. He came to me wanting to join up with me, but I am cautious with gringos.” He looked at Slocum. “Pardon me, señor,” he said. “No offense intended.”

  “None taken,” said Slocum.

  “I told him I would think about it. He’s been hanging around town ever since, I suppose, waiting for me to make up my mind.”

  “Where is he?” said Vicenti.

  “Be patient,” said Torrino. “I will see that you get together with him. But will he face both of you?”

  “Only one at a time,” said Vicenti. “If he survives the first one.”

  “And who will be first?”

  “I will,” Slocum said.

  “No,” said Vicenti. “I will try him first.”

  Slocum started to protest, but Torrino interrupted, putting an end to the argument. “I think, Mr. Slocum,” he said, “that you are much too fast for Dancer. I think if you face him first, Mr. Vicenti will never have a chance at his revenge for his poor son. I think I will send for him to meet you, but only if Vicenti goes first.”

  18

  Slocum and Vicenti checked their weapons in anticipation of the meeting with Dancer, as Viviano once again was launched on an errand. In a short while, Viviano returned. Torrino stopped him beside the table where he sat with Slocum and Vicenti.

  “Did you find Dancer?” he asked.

  “Sí.”

  “And did you give him the message?”

  “Sí.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He say that he will be in the street in front of this saloon at four o’clock. He say that he is not afraid to meet anyone.”

  “He will only have to meet me,” said Vicenti. “After that, he will meet the devil.”

  In his room at the hotel, Dancer dressed. He slicked his hair and put on his hat. He took up his gun belt and strapped it around his waist. Then he took out the revolver and checked it over carefully. It was fully loaded, and it was working perfectly. He took the watch out of his pocket and checked the time. It was 2:30. At last, he rolled up his belongings in a blanket, picked up the blanket and his saddlebags and went out of the room. He did not go to the stairs that would lead him down to the lobby of the hotel. Instead, he walked to the far end of the hall, where he opened a door that led out to a small landing and a set of outdoor stairs. These took him down to the alley behind the building. He walked through the alley to the stable and went in through the back door.

  He stepped up behind the unsuspecting stableman and, taking out his revolver, banged him over the head, knocking him silly. Moving quickly but cautiously, he located his horse and got him saddled and ready to ride. Then he threw a loop over the neck of Slocum’s big Appaloosa. The horse protested, but there wasn’t much he could do. Dancer did not know the horse of the other man, that Vicenti. In fact, he did not know the man. All he knew was that Viviano had told him that Slocum and a man named Vicenti were waiting for him. That was all.

  Dancer looked over all the stalls very quickly and discovered that there were only four more horses in there. He put ropes on them all. Mounted up, he rode past each stall, opening the gate and holding the lead rope, then rode out through the back door leading all the horses with him. This would slow his pursuers considerably. After he had gone a few miles away from Janos, he would turn the animals loose. They would slow him down and get in his way. But at first, he needed them, or rather, he needed to be sure that Slocum and Vicenti did not have them.

  Dancer rode out of Janos through the alley, and he rode in a direction that would not take him past the saloon where the two men waited along with the Torrino gang. He rode slowly, making as little noise and calling as little attention to himself as possible. Once out of town, he rode hard for a few miles. Then he slowed again and went on for a few more miles. At last, he turned loose all the horses except the Appaloosa. That one he tied to a tree beside the road. Then he rode on his way.

  Four o’clock came and went, and although Vicenti waited patiently and alone in the street, there was no sign of Dancer. Slocum was inside, looking out the window. At 4:15, he looked back at Torrino.

  “The son of a bitch ain’t coming,” he said.

  “He told my man that he would be here,” Torrino said.

  “It’s not the first time he’s lied,” said Slocum.

  He walked to the front door and on out to the sidewalk. Vicenti looked over his shoulder to see him. “He’s not coming, Vicenti,” said Slocum. He kept walking. Torrino and all his men came out of the saloon and followed Slocum. Vicenti fell in step. Slocum went straight to the stable and inside. There he found the man that Dancer had clobbered on the head. The poor wretch was still out cold. He also saw at once that all the stalls were empty.

  “Damn it,” he shouted.

  “Our horses are gone,” said Vicenti.

  Torrino turned on Viviano. “What’s the meaning of this?” he said.

  Viviano backed off a couple of steps, shrugging as he backed. “I don’t know,” he said. “The man told me he would be in the street.”

  Slocum stood up from where he had knelt beside the stableman. “Someone had better get a doctor for this man,” he said, but he did not stop to see if anyone had paid any attention to what he had said. He walked to the back door of the stable, which was still standing wide open, and checked the tracks. They had all gone out that way all right, and then they continued out of town. His Appaloosa was among them.

  “All bets are off,” he said. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch the next time I see him.”

  “You still have to beat me to him,” said Vicenti.

  “And now you have to beat me as well,” said Torrino. “Let’s get going.”

  “On what?” said Vicenti.

  “Viviano and Pancho will stay behind,” Torrino said. “You and Slocum can take their horses. They are all tied back at the saloon. Come on.”

  Soon Slocum, Vicenti, Torrino and three of Torrino’s pistoleros were riding the trail after Dancer. For a few miles out of Janos, the road was tree-lined. Then the trees grew more scarce, and the terrain began to roll with low, gradual hills. The hills then grew steeper, and on the sides of the road, large rocks rose up. They had not gone far into the rocky hills before they spotted the horses that Dancer had turned loose. Torrino ordered one of his men to take them back to Janos. That left Slocum, Vicenti, Torrino and two men following Dancer. In another couple of miles, they found the Appaloosa tied to a tree beside the road. Slocum switched the saddle from the horse he was riding to the Appaloosa’s back and climbed aboard.

  “It ain’t your own saddle, ole pard,” he said, “but it’ll have to do for now.”

  Soon it was too dark to continue safely. The road was unfamiliar even to Torrino. They decided to stop for the night. As they sat around a small fire, wishing they had some coffee and beans at least, Torrino said to Slocum, “This Dancer is one no-good coward. I am fortunate that I did not accept him into my ranks.”

  “Don’t let him fool you,” said Slocum. “I’ve seen him stand up to a man and gun him. He’s not a coward. He’s just practical, that’s all.”

  “Practical,” said Torrino, musing to himself.

  “This time we must not let him slip through our fingers,” said Vicenti. “We made that mistake at Janos. This time we must stop him.”

  “We’ll get the son of a bitch,” said Slocum.

  They bedded down for the night and slept as best they could hungry. In the morning, they rose and got an early start. In a couple of hours, they came to a small wayside inn, and they stopped and had breakfast and eggs. They learned that Dancer had gone through the night before. They did not linger over coffee. They were in a hurry to catch Dancer. Somewhat refreshed, they were back on the road in a short time.

  As the road narrowed, climbing higher into mountains, one of Torrino’s men spoke to him. “I think it’s not so safe for you here,” the man said. “There’s a reward for you, and there are posters out. I myself have seen them. The sheriffs over here are looking for you.”

  “They won’t expect me to come riding through,” Torrino said. “Don’t worry.”

  At the top of the next rise, a rifle shot rang out, then two more followed in quick succession. Vicenti fell out of his saddle. Slocum jumped for cover, and so did Torrino, but Torrino’s two pistoleros fell, both hit. Slocum was behind a rock on one side of the road, Torrino on the other. Each man had his six-gun out. The rifles were still in the saddle boots.

  “You see anything, Torrino?” Slocum called out.

  “Not a thing,” Torrino answered. “Damn it to hell. The gringo son of a bitch has killed three good men.”

  “I’m not killed,” said Vicenti, lying still in the middle of the road. “I’m hurt, but not killed.”

  Slocum was scouring the mountainsides. “Where is that bastard?”

  “I still don’t see no sign of him,” said Torrino.

  “Be still out there, Vicenti,” Slocum said. “We can’t make a move for you right now, and if he sees you move, he’ll likely shoot again.”

  “Don’t worry for me,” said Vicenti. “I won’t move.”

  They stayed there under cover for a long time—it seemed to Slocum at least an hour—with poor Vicenti lying there in the road bleeding. Slocum had no idea how badly Vicenti was hurt. No more shots were fired. That could be because Dancer had no target. He could be waiting the same as they were. At last, Slocum decided that it was time to do something.

  He stood up slowly, watching the rocks above him, waiting for a shot. None came. “Torrino,” he said. “I think the son of a bitch is gone.”

  “Don’t be too sure, señor.”

  “I’m going to get Vicenti out of the road.”

  “I’ll watch for you.”

  Slocum moved on out to where Vicenti was lying. He holstered his six-gun and took Vicenti under the arms to drag him over to the side of the road behind a small boulder. Still no shots were fired. He checked the wound.

  “It’s not too bad,” Vicenti said, but his voice was weak.

  “It’s bad enough,” said Slocum. He started doing what he could for the wound. Torrino got up and crossed the road to join them there.

  “I think you are right,” he said. “I think the son of a bitch is gone.”

  “Well, he slowed us down enough,” said Slocum.

  “And he narrowed the odds against him.”

  “Yeah. He’ll be satisfied for now. He can get more distance between us. Well, I’ve got the bleeding stopped,” Slocum said. “That’s about all I can do. We need to get him back to a doctor.”

  “The nearest doctor is back at Janos,” Torrino said.

  “Go on after Dancer,” said Vicenti. “Leave me here. I’ll be all right.”

  “We’re not leaving you here like this,” said Slocum.

  “Forget it.”

  “I’ll take him back, señor,” said Torrino. “You can go on after that Dancer.”

  Slocum thought a moment. “All right,” he said. “Let’s get everything ready.”

  They caught up all the horses, loaded the two bodies on theirs and Vicenti on his. Torrino then mounted up. Slocum climbed on his Appaloosa.

  “Take good care of him, Torrino,” he said.

  “I will, señor.”

  “Slocum,” said Vicenti. “When you have killed Dancer, come back to Janos and let me know, will you?”

  “I will, Vicenti. My saddle’s back there in the stable anyhow.”

  “Vaya con Dios,” Vicenti said.

  “The same to you,” said Slocum, and he spurred the Appaloosa forward.

  Slocum did not look back. Instead he kept searching the high rocks. He found a place up there that looked like a good spot for an ambush, and he rode slowly, looking for a way up. At last he found a narrow passageway that seemed to wind its way up toward the top of the mountain. He turned into it and started up. About halfway there, he pulled his Winchester out of the boot. He kept going.