Darrel, on the other hand, seemed to be perfectly at ease. He sat comfortably in his saddle and seemed to enjoy every day’s ride. At camp, he was quick to tell a few off-color jokes and in the morning he made a hell of a good breakfast. For those reasons alone, he worried Slocum the most. Any man who was that relaxed in the middle of a storm just wasn’t right in the head.

  As they got closer to McCord, the trail they took became less direct. That wasn’t much of a surprise, considering the cloud of notoriety hanging over the outlaws’ heads. Like vultures circling a fresh corpse, they changed direction, used broken roads, went from high ground to low, and took every precaution to make certain they hadn’t been seen. Before closing the last bit of distance between themselves and McCord, Darrel motioned for them to stop.

  “All right, Slocum,” he said. “Time for you to make yourself useful.”

  Either that was a signal the men had arranged or the others were just very good at following his lead because all of the outlaws drew their weapons and pointed them at Slocum.

  By this point, Slocum had become very well versed in keeping his hands out and empty while being ready to fill them in the blink of an eye. “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked.

  Darrel tipped his hat back and watched him in the aloof manner that had become his brand. “Just what I said, John. You’ve ridden with us this far, eaten our food, watched how we operate. If you truly want to be a part of this gang, it’s time to prove why we should allow that to happen.”

  “I don’t care if I’m a full part of this gang,” Slocum said. “I’m with you for this job and I’ll expect my fair cut of the profits. That’s all.”

  “Which is all the more reason why we need to be certain we can trust you.”

  “I suppose that’s fair.”

  Yancy bristled at that choice of words, but was held back by a firm gesture from Darrel. Without so much as glancing back at the redhead, Darrel said, “You don’t need to worry about fair. What you need to worry about is convincing us that you’re worth dragging along.”

  “All you had to do was ask.”

  “All right, then. I’ll ask. How do you know this Emberson fellow?”

  “I helped him get rid of some bandits that followed him out of the Rockies when he wanted to make a fresh start of things out here. He was bringing along some money and valuables that he didn’t want stolen. I needed some work and he was willing to pay good money to have it done. I did a real good job of it and he told me he owed me for keeping him alive.” That was a bald-faced lie, but was a hell of a lot better than telling the outlaws he’d gotten his information from Mr. Mason before riding out of Reno in the courier’s wake.

  “So he’s a friend of yours?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Slocum replied. “I said I did some work for him.”

  “So you won’t mind workin’ against him?”

  “As I understood it, this isn’t about him. It’s about some documents that will be coming into his care.”

  “And what about that leverage you promised?” Darrel asked. “Friends and family and such. You don’t have any qualms with taking hostages?”

  “That’s the price of doing business,” Slocum said. “I’m the one that brought the whole idea up, remember? It shouldn’t come to that, though.”

  “See, I like the notion of bringing some insurance to the table before we even head into that town. Maybe we should go after one of them loved ones just to speed up the whole process. What do you think of that, Yancy?”

  “Oh, I like that a whole lot,” the redhead replied with a leering grin.

  Slocum shrugged and said, “I suppose we could do that. Just doesn’t seem like the quickest way to go about things, especially since that courier already got a head start on us.”

  “Which could’ve been your doing!” Yancy pointed out vehemently.

  “Doesn’t matter whose doing it was,” Slocum said. “He got ahead of us and could have already come and gone by now. For all we know, the next courier may have picked up them documents and ridden away.”

  “And for all we know,” Darrel shot back, “you could try to double-cross us at any point along the way. What we need is a show of good faith. Gunning down a woman shows you got what it takes to be a killer. I need more than that to see if you’ve got what it takes to ride along with us on this job. If’n you don’t want to go along with that, you can leave right now.”

  Slocum didn’t have to study the outlaws for long to know that he wouldn’t be able to leave without making one hell of a bloody mess along the way. “All right, then,” he said. “What do you want from me?”

  “Who do you know that we can use as a hostage?”

  “Emberson’s brother lives around here.”

  “Where?”

  Slocum smirked and wagged a finger at Darrel. “Wouldn’t serve me well to trust you with that, now would it? Can’t have any of your men decide they’re better off without me after I show my cards.”

  “Fair enough,” Darrel replied with an understanding nod. “Show the place to Mark and Ackerman.”

  “I wanna go along with him,” Yancy snarled.

  “It ain’t a three-man job,” Darrel told him.

  “Then I’ll go instead of the kid.”

  Ackerman was relieved to hear that.

  “If I wanted Slocum dead, I would’ve killed him already. Or,” Darrel added while fixing a cool gaze upon the redhead, “I would’ve let you at him by now. Slocum’s right about one thing. We’ve wasted too much time. Him and them two will grab us a hostage while you and I go into town to scout things out. That all right with you, Yancy?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Well, isn’t that delightful? Now move your asses!” With that, Darrel snapped his reins and struck out for the northernmost edge of McCord. Yancy fell into step beside him and looked back as though his trigger finger was still aching for a chance to prove itself.

  “You heard him,” Ackerman said. “Take us to that hostage.”

  It seemed Yancy’s finger wasn’t the only thing that wanted to prove itself. Unfortunately for the kid, Ackerman wasn’t nearly as convincing. Slocum pointed his horse’s nose to the south and said, “It’s one of those houses there.”

  “When’s the last time you set eyes on these folks?” Landry asked.

  “Oh, probably two summers ago.”

  “And they still live here?”

  “Guess we’ll find out.”

  The two outlaws looked at each other with varying degrees of discomfort. Although it seemed reasonable enough, even Slocum knew how Darrel would take it if this bluff didn’t pan out. At least that gave him a little bit of time to figure out where to go from there.

  It wasn’t a long ride to the houses that had been built along the southern edge of town. Along the way, however, Slocum was able to spot a rider that was shadowing them from a distance. If either of the two outlaws had been paying as close attention to their surroundings as they were to him, they might have noticed as well. Instead, they allowed the horseman in the distance to keep pace with them while staying about a hundred yards away. For the moment, Slocum kept that other rider in the corner of his eye while leading the outlaws to a small, well-tended little home just outside of McCord, Nevada.

  They rode up to the place, dismounted, and fanned out. Landry picked a spot where he could shoot anyone at the front, back, or side of the house with his Winchester. If anyone slipped out through a window on the side he couldn’t see, they would have to run real straight and real fast to keep from getting dropped. Slocum walked to the front door with Ackerman just behind him and to his left.

  After Slocum knocked, the door was opened by a slender young man wearing black trousers, a crisp white shirt, and spectacles that looked thick enough to scorch his name into the side of the distant hills. “What can I do for you men?” he asked.

  “We’re friends of Mr. Mason. He’s a business associate of your brother’s.”

  “Yes,” the man said sternly. “I know who he is.”

  The information he’d gotten from Mason was sparse, but did include a mention of the bank manager’s only relation in town. Mason had only known as much because Jimmy Emberson frequently met with the couriers when they came through town so his brother wasn’t seen in the company of anyone who might implicate the bank in Mason’s less-respectable enterprises. “That’d make you Jimmy,” Slocum said. “Are you alone in there?”

  “Yes.” Taking notice of Ackerman, he asked, “Who’s your friend?”

  “Why don’t you step outside?”

  Although Slocum wanted to keep this as civil as possible, Ackerman got overeager and lunged forward to grab the man’s arm. Jimmy was pulled through the doorway and tried to resist, but was too weak and off-balance to be very effective when Ackerman drew his pistol and pointed it directly at his face. “You’re coming with us. Make a wrong move and we’ll make sure you regret it.”

  Slocum placed his hand upon the top of the gun’s barrel and eased it away from Jimmy. “What he means is that you really need to come along with us, Jimmy. We’re not going to hurt you.” Glancing over to Ackerman, he added, “Because that wouldn’t do anyone any good, now would it?”

  Landry circled around from the other side of the house. “Nobody’s inside,” he reported. “Not unless they’re hiding.”

  “Anyone in there with you, Jimmy?” Slocum asked.

  He stared at Slocum through the spectacles and asked, “What’s going on here?”

  “I’ll tell you along the way. For right now, just come along with us and don’t make any sudden moves.”

  Both outlaws flanked the trembling man in glasses. Landry covered him with the Winchester while Ackerman got a rope to tie him up. As the rope was looped around Jimmy’s arms, Slocum patted him on the shoulder and assured him, “You’re not going to get hurt. I swear.”

  Landry shot Slocum a look that was part warning and part acknowledgment. Any outlaw worth his salt knew a dead hostage wasn’t much good to anyone. Just to be certain, Slocum said, “We keep him healthy, you hear?”

  “Sure,” Landry replied.

  When the outlaws started shoving the other man toward Ackerman’s horse, Slocum said, “I’ll see you through this and back home.”

  “Do I get an explanation or not?” Jimmy asked.

  “It really wouldn’t help you much,” Slocum said as Ackerman stuffed a gag in the bound man’s mouth.

  17

  The gang met up again after dark. Slocum, Landry, Ackerman, and their hostage all sat huddled in a small cave less than half a mile outside of town. Slocum’s guess about the men knowing their territory inside and out was confirmed by the choice of location for the fire. If he hadn’t been led straight to the recessed hole behind a cracked wall of rock, he never would have seen it. The cave was narrow and had a low ceiling, but was just big enough for the men and a fire. Horses were tethered behind a cluster of trees. Even though they could be seen by anyone riding close enough, that would also put them within range of Landry’s rifle.

  Darrel and Yancy came along soon after the sun had dipped below the horizon. They were in high spirits, which may have been due in no small part to the stink of liquor on their breath. “Well, now,” Darrel said as though he was entering a banquet hall, “looks like we got ourselves a guest.”

  “He says this is that banker’s brother,” Landry explained.

  “And what do you say?”

  After looking back and forth between Slocum and the man who was bound and gagged against a wall, he replied, “Didn’t find any reason to doubt it.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  Yancy stalked forward while drawing a knife from its scabbard. “Sure is good to hear. Let’s start carving up this bird and see what he knows.”

  “He doesn’t know anything, you ignorant wretch!” Slocum said as he positioned himself between Yancy and the hostage. “He’s just here to provide leverage and that’s more valuable if he’s alive and well.”

  “I didn’t say nothin’ about killing him,” Yancy said with a vicious grin.

  Darrel slapped an arm across the redhead’s chest and pushed him back. “Slocum’s right. The healthier this man is, the more incentive that banker will have to do as we say. Also,” he added before Jimmy could get too comfortable, “that gives us more room to work with that knife if things don’t go our way. Wouldn’t want to get started early without an audience.”

  As sick as that was, Slocum had been counting on that very thing. Only after Yancy backed up and put the knife away did Slocum ask, “What next? A bit late for a robbery, ain’t it?”

  “The job’s on for tomorrow. Me and Yancy found out that the courier came through here not too long ago and dropped off his bundle at the bank you told us about. There ain’t been any other folks leaving town in a rush since then, no stagecoaches and nobody else we should be concerned about, so that bundle should be there waiting for us.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “We got our sources,” Yancy snarled. “You’re lucky they squared up with the slop that’s been comin’ out of your mouth, so it’d be best to keep your damn mouth shut.”

  “I’m through trying to impress you, asshole,” Slocum said.

  Darrel stepped in before Yancy could charge and reined in the other man like he was a rowdy dog. “He’s right. So far, his story’s been holding up.”

  “What if it is just a story?” Yancy asked.

  “Then I feel sorry for whoever the hell that is tied up over there.” All of the men had a chuckle about that. All of them apart from Yancy, that is. “The job’s going ahead and we’re all in place. We got ourselves a hostage, which is better than we thought we’d get. We even found them sources of ours to be doing a real good job of watching the bank and the town law. Everything’s lining up on this one. Best not to thumb our noses at luck like that.”

  “So he’s got you snowed?”

  “He’s been delivering,” Darrel corrected. “But he still ain’t part of this gang. That’s not what he wants. Remember what them fellas in town said about John Slocum?”

  Yancy looked at him with renewed interest. “Said he was a killer. We’re killers. How’s that supposed to impress me?”

  “That’s not all they told us.” Smirking at the quizzical expression on Slocum’s face, Darrel nodded. “Don’t you worry about who it was or what they said. Just know that they wouldn’t have done you any favors if you were trying to pass yourself off as a preacher. As far as what you’ve been telling us, though, I believe it just fine.”

  “Great,” Slocum said. “Does that mean I’m not a prisoner in this damn cave?”

  “You came to us, remember?”

  “Right, but am I free to come and go as I please?”

  “You can go straight to hell for all we care,” Yancy snapped.

  Since he wasn’t the man in charge, nobody reacted to those words.

  Darrel gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he thought things through. His eyes darted over toward the hostage, which made him shrug and say, “I suppose you can go if you like. You planning on coming back?”

  “You think I’d come this far to let you do this job without me so you can justify holding back on my share of the money?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Then there’s your answer.”

  “We’re riding out before first light,” Darrel said as he took a seat on an old milking stool that must have been there since the last time they’d used the cave as a hideout. “If you’re in some whore’s bed or otherwise occupied, we’re riding on without you.”

  “Wouldn’t expect any different.” With that, Slocum walked out of the cave and collected his horse. He barely had to gander at the cave entrance to spot the pair of eyes staring back at him. Landry was quiet as ever, keeping perfectly still as Slocum climbed into his saddle and rode away.

  He didn’t ride very far. In fact, Slocum didn’t cover much ground at all before doubling back and circling toward the cave. He’d put enough distance between himself and the rocks to keep from being heard by anyone standing in the entrance. After he’d ridden away in the other direction, Slocum caught the sound of another set of hooves clattering against the rocky ground. Someone had decided to follow him, which meant the chase was on.

  Rather than try to outrun his pursuer without much more than starlight to guide him, Slocum steered toward a bunch of tall shadows that were either rocks or trees not too far away. He pulled back on his reins with plenty of room to spare to prevent his horse from snapping an ankle in a hole or any number of things that could be hidden in the darkness.

  The other rider was closing in, but not directly. As near as he could figure, the horse trying to come after him was still headed in the direction Slocum had taken a few minutes ago. It wouldn’t be long before he decided to circle around and come after him. That didn’t concern Slocum as much as the small patch of flickering light he’d spotted soon after leaving the cave. After tying his horse’s reins around a bunch of rocks gathered around the remains of a broken and abandoned wagon, he dismounted and dug the field glasses from his saddlebag.

  Knowing it would be damn near useless to use the glasses to find the other rider in the middle of the night, Slocum turned the lenses toward the light he’d spotted. Sure enough, it was a campfire. There was a single figure huddled close to the flame and a horse tied up at the edge of the camp. Slocum put the field glasses away, hunkered down, and focused on the sounds of faraway hooves.

  His pursuer stopped, picked another direction, and then set out once more. Fortunately for Slocum, the other direction was the wrong one and the hooves soon dwindled into a low rumble. Either the other rider didn’t see the subtle flicker of the fire or didn’t care about it since there was no way Slocum could have started it so soon after his departure.