The Bisbee Massacre Page 4

  They got through the night with no trouble. Dodge used the tip of his boot to shake Clint, who came awake immediately. He got up and accepted a cup of coffee from Dodge.

  “We ain’t got much for breakfast,” Dodge said, although Clint detected the smell of bacon in the air. “We’re traveling light.”

  Clint walked to the fire and accepted a few slices of bacon to go with his coffee. At the other fire the posse members were hunkered around the fire, having their breakfast. A couple of men were feeding the horses.

  After their hasty meal, they all saddled their own mounts and got ready for the day.

  Dodge gathered all the men and broke them into three groups. He, Manuel, and Clint would do the tracking, trying to find the robbers’ trail again.

  “We’re looking for tracks with shoes in among the cattle tracks,” Dodge said. “So if anybody thinks they spotted somethin’, sing out.”

  They broke into their three groups. Heath rode with Sy Bryant and Manuel. Dodge told Bryant to keep a close watch on Heath, and at the first sign that he was trying to throw them off the trail, to arrest him and take him back to Tombstone.

  Later in the day Manuel rode up on Dodge and told him Heath was trying to throw the trail.

  Still later Bryant came by and told him the same thing.

  “I think he was wiping out some tracks with his boots,” Bryant said.

  “First time you can prove it, go ahead and make the arrest,” Dodge told him.

  In the afternoon Clint’s group crossed Dodge’s group, and Dodge told him about Heath. At that moment they noticed Manuel’s men collected in a group. Dodge pulled out his spyglass and watched as Bryant took John Heath’s guns from him. Moments later, two men left to take Heath back to Tombstone.

  The groups got together, and Bryant told them what had happened.

  “I watched him,” he said. “Heath got off his horse and started to deliberately obliterate tracks with his boot. I throwed down on him and arrested him.”

  “So did we find their trail again?” Dodge asked.

  “Yeah,” Bryant said. “Manuel picked up a three of shod horse tracks.”

  “Three men headin’ north,” Manuel said, pointing.

  “Then lead the way,” Dodge said.

  ELEVEN

  They followed the three tracks until they crossed the tracks of two men heading south. Those two appeared to be headed for Sonora.

  “Sy, you take your men and half of Manuel’s and follow those two. I’ll keep goin’ north with Manuel, Clint, Bob and Charley Smith, and Bill Daniels,” Dodge said. “You catch up to somebody, take them right to Tombstone. We’ll meet up there.”

  “Okay,” Bryant said. “The trail is clear enough for me to follow.”

  Bryant took his men north. Clint, Dodge, Smith, Hatch, Manuel, and Daniels headed north, with Manuel following the trail.

  The next night Charley Smith became ill. It was an old wound he had collected in Texas. He’d been shot in the right side of the chest, just below his nipple, and he took cold that night. By morning he was shivering and feverish.

  “I have friends who live near here, señor,” Manuel said. “If we bring him there they will care for him.”

  “All right,” Dodge said, “let’s do it.”

  Once again Manuel led the way to a ranch house. It was well built and expensive. The people were obviously very well off. They were happy to see Manuel, and very willing to look after Charley, who spoke Spanish and was able to converse with them.

  “I’m sorry, Fred,” Charley said, as the people took him inside.

  “Don’t worry about it, pard,” Dodge said. “You just get well and meet us in Tombstone.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  They got back on the trail and then camped for the night. They were now down to five—Dodge, Daniels, Manuel, Hatch, and Clint.

  They sat around the fire, shared bacon and coffee, rationing it out. Some of the supplies had gone south with Bryant’s group.

  “Our numbers are dwindling,” Bill Daniels said.

  “We’ve still got enough to do the job,” Dodge said.

  “Maybe the others are getting some names from Heath,” Clint said, “back in Tombstone.”

  “Maybe we should’ve asked him before he left,” Daniels said.

  “Names wouldn’t help us track them,” Dodge said, although he realized it was a mistake not to have asked Heath the question before he was taken back.

  “Can’t argue with the decision now,” Clint said. “We just have to live with it.”

  “I’ll take the first watch,” Dodge said, standing up. “We’ll go every two hours. Clint, you can go last tonight.”

  “Suits me,” Clint said. He finished his coffee and retired to his bedroll.

  It was Manuel who woke him with two hours to go before daylight.

  “I have made a fresh pot of coffee, señor,” Manuel said.

  “Good, thanks, Manuel,” Clint said.

  “Señor?”

  “Yes?”

  “Señor Dodge should not be so hard on himself, es verdad?”

  “Yes, it is true, Manuel,” Clint said. “He’s done nothing wrong that I can see.”

  “Sí, señor,” Manuel said. “That is what I was thinking. He is your amigo, no?”

  “Yes, he is my very good amigo.”

  “He is my amigo, too,” Manuel said, proudly. “He has been very good to me. He treats me—how do you say?—with respect.”

  “Well, you have a talent, Manuel,” Clint said, “and he recognizes that.”

  “Sí, señor,” Manuel said. “I am grateful to him.”

  “You better get some sleep, Manuel,” Clint said. “You’re going to have to put your talent to good use tomorrow.”

  “Gracias, señor,” Manuel said. “I will see you in two hours.”

  “Okay, Manuel,” Clint said.

  As the tracker settled into his bedroll Clint hoped that Dodge wasn’t second-guessing himself too much. The posse had been put together quickly, hoping the robbers would not get too far ahead. Stopping to question Heath would have given them more time. It was more important to stay on their trail.

  He went to the fire, poured himself a cup of coffee, and watched the sky, waiting for first light.

  TWELVE

  Early the next day they came to a split in the trail. One man was heading for the Minas Prietas Mine and the other for the Sierra Madre Mountains.

  “Bob, why don’t you and Bill take the trail to the Minas Prietas. Clint, Manuel and me, we’ll take the wandering trail toward the Sierra Madres.” They agreed to return to this point as soon as possible, and agreed upon a signal for each other. If the sign was not there, then those men would take the trail of the others, to give them help.

  They followed the trail all day, camped, and took it up again the next day. Late that second day they lost the trail in a creek.

  “Can you get it back?” Dodge asked Manuel.

  “We will have to ride along the creek both ways to see where he came out, señor,” Manuel said.

  “Okay,” Dodge said. “I’ll go with you. Clint, you follow the creek upstream.”

  “Right.”

  They split up. Clint rode as far as he dared and never came upon tracks leading out of the creek. When he returned to where they had parted company Dodge and Manuel were already standing there, looking glum.

  “No sign?” Dodge asked.

  “No.”

  “Damn it!” Dodge snapped. “We lost him!”

  “Easy, Fred,” Clint said. “We’ll just keep looking.”

  “I am sorry, Señor Dodge,” Manuel said, very con-tritely.

  Dodge put his hand on Manuel’s arm and said, “It’s not your fault, Manuel. Clint’s right. Come on, we’ll just keep looking.”

  They kept looking for almost a week before they found some hope just over the border in Mexico.

  Manuel had friends among the Mexican Indians in the Sierra Madres. They came upon a lo
ne Mexican Indian who was able to give them a description of the man they were trailing. The man had come upon a number of Indians—including this one—and had asked for food. The Indians had helped him, and when he gave the description Dodge immediately knew that it was Jack Dowd.

  “I knew it,” he said. “I can’t figure it, but I knew it was him.”

  Manuel told them that the Indian said Dowd had traded his worn horse for a fresh one.

  “At least we know who we’re lookin’ for, now,” Dodge said, slapping Manuel on the back.

  Dodge came down with a bad cold for three days that kept him out of the saddle. Manuel and Clint left him camped alone and continued to search for some sign of Jack Dowd. Manuel was still checking with the friendly Yaquis, and eventually came up with another vital piece of information. He and Clint rode back to where they’d left Dodge and found him doing much better.

  “Damn cold had settled in my chest and I couldn’t breathe,” Dodge said, “but I’m okay, now.” He handed them each a cup of coffee. “What’d you find out?”

  “There is a mine about fifteen miles from here,” Manuel said.

  “It’s owned by Mexicans, and there are about twenty-five or thirty peons working there,” Clint said. “Manuel’s friend said they’ve seen a gringo come in there for supplies a couple of times. The description matches Dowd.”

  “So he’s still in these mountains,” Dodge said. “Good. Manuel, we’re headin’ for that mine.”

  THIRTEEN

  They stopped outside the mine, which turned out to be more like a small town than a mine.

  “Manuel,” Dodge said, “Clint and me’ll wait up here while you go down and talk to your friend. See if you can find out where Dowd is. If not that, when he might be coming back. And find a place where we can hide.”

  “Sí, señor.”

  Manuel rode down into the small town that had been built up around the mine.

  “If Dowd is holing up somewhere in these mountains then he’s comin’ here for supplies,” Dodge said. “If Manuel can find a place for us to hide out, we can wait for him to come in and then grab him.”

  “Unless these people are helping him,” Clint said.

  “If they are it’s probably because he’s payin’ them,” Dodge said.

  “That’s a strong motive,” Clint said.

  “We’re the law,” Dodge said.

  “Well, you are,” Clint said.

  “I am, and they’ll do what’s right.”

  “I hope you’re right, Fred.”

  “Relax,” Dodge said. “Manuel won’t be back for a while.”

  They made a cold camp and ate beef jerky while they waited.

  Manuel returned within half an hour.

  “He is staying somewhere in the mountains,” Manuel said. “He has been here two times for supplies.”

  “When will he be coming back?” Dodge asked.

  “Two or three days, my friend figures.”

  “Okay,” Dodge said. “Does he have a place for us to wait?”

  “Sí, señor. We may wait, and he will feed us.”

  Dodge looked at Clint. “Sounds good to me,” he said.

  “Me, too,” Clint said. “I could use some hot food.”

  “They have everythin’ we need here, señor,” Manuel said. “Food, whiskey . . . and the wimmins.”

  “Like I said,” Clint replied. “This sounds like a place we could sit and wait in comfort.”

  “Let’s go, Manuel,” Dodge said.

  “Sí, señor,” Manuel said. “They are cookin’ the food for us now.”

  They mounted up and rode into town.

  FOURTEEN

  Manuel had been telling the truth about “the wimmins.” There were thirty men working the mines. The rest of the men and women ran the town, and saw to the needs of their guests—paying guests.

  But because Manuel was friends with one of them, he, Dodge, and Clint were catered to for free.

  “I told you,” Dodge said. “Once they saw I was the law they would go along with us.”

  They were sitting at a table in the house of Manuel’s friend, eating enchiladas and beans for supper, and drinking whiskey. There was no beer available.

  “They’re helping us because of Manuel,” Clint said, “not you.”

  “What does it matter what the reasons are?” Dodge asked.

  “You’re right,” Clint said. “As long as they help us.”

  “Sí,” Manuel said, eating happily and eyeing the two young women who were bringing them the food.

  The women were, in turn, eyeing Dodge and Clint.

  “Manuel,” Clint said, looking at the woman with the big breasts bouncing around inside her peasant blouse, “are either of these women your friend’s wife?”

  “No, señor,” Manuel said, “no wife.”

  “Daughters?”

  “No, señor,” Manuel said, with a smile, “no daughters, either.”

  “Then . . . what?”

  Manuel grinned and said, “Seesters. They are his seesters, señor.”

  “Oh.”

  The girl with the big breasts leaned over Clint so that he could feel the weight of her on his back and filled his plate with more enchiladas. He looked up at her. This close he could see how pretty she was. She had to be about twenty-five.

  The other girl was slender, and younger by a few years. She seemed interested in Dodge, but the lawman was not showing anything in return. Dodge was a handsome man, a double—in fact—for Morgan Earp. It was natural he would attract women, but Fred Dodge always seemed to be more interested in his work.

  When the younger girl saw that Dodge wasn’t interested, she turned her attention to Manuel, who was only too happy to return the interest.

  Dodge told Clint to get some rest after they ate.

  “I’ll take the first watch, Manuel can go second. We might as well go in four-hour shifts, twenty-four hours a day until we nab him.”

  “Suits me,” Clint said. “Where are we sleeping?”

  “Manuel will show you,” Dodge said. “I think they’re puttin’ us in different houses.”

  Dodge went out to find a good place for them to watch from. Manuel came over to Clint and said, “Señor, you will sleep here.”

  “Here?” Clint looked around.

  “In this house,” Manuel said. “This is where Luisa lives. I will be next door, in her sister’s house.” The man smiled broadly, showing that he was happy with the arrangements.

  “Well . . . okay . . .”

  “She will be right here to show you to your room,” Manuel said. “I will come and get you when it is your watch.”

  “That’ll be in eight hours,” Clint said. “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping that long.”

  “We will see, señor.”

  Manuel left and Clint finished his coffee, waiting for Luisa to show him to his room. Luisa’s brother—Clint didn’t know his name—was nowhere in sight as the girl came out of the kitchen.

  “Señor?”

  “Are you Luisa?” he asked, staring at her big, round breasts.

  “Sí, señor. You will be sleeping in my bed.” She put her hand out to him. “Come.”

  He took her hand and stood up, allowed himself to be tugged along to her room. It was small, but very clean, and the bed looked good to him after all the time on the trail.

  “Is this good for you, señor?” she asked.

  “It’s fine, Luisa,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “If you leave your clothes outside the door I will wash them for you.”

  “I’ll need them back as soon as possible,” he said.

  “Sí, señor,” she said, “that will not be a problem.”

  She stared at him, as if expecting him to take his clothes off right there and then, and he stared back.

  “I’ll leave the clothes outside the door, like you said,” he told her.

  “There is some water there, in the pitcher, señor,” she said, indicating the pitcher
on the dresser, next to a basin.

  “Thank you, Luisa.”

  “Is there anything else I can do for you, señor?” she asked.

  “You’ve given me your bed, Luisa,” Clint said. “What more can I ask?”

  “Señor,” she said, with a slight bow, and backed out of the room.

  Clint went to the bed, pulled the blanket down. The sheets smelled fresh and clean. He undressed to his underwear, put his clothes just outside the door. As a last thought he removed the underwear and put them outside, as well. No point sleeping on clean sheets with dirty underwear.

  He went to the pitcher and basin next, poured some water from one into the other. Luisa had supplied a cloth, as well, and he wet the cloth and used it to clean himself from head to toe, including all his crevices. By the time he was done cleaning his genitals he had an erection, probably because he’d been thinking about Luisa the whole time. He stopped before something embarrassing happened, dried himself, then crawled between the sheets.

  He fell asleep in seconds.

  FIFTEEN

  Luisa’s younger sister was named Victoria, and she was much more aggressive than her sister. She showed Manuel to her room, and as they entered she reached between his legs and grabbed him.

  “Dios mío!” he said, grinning. “You do not play games.”

  “I know what I want, Manuel,” she said. She was wearing a simple dress, rather than the peasant blouse and skirt her sister favored. With a shrug she dropped the dress the ground. She was sleek, where her sister was round. Small breasts, slim hips, smooth skin, and she smelled ready. Manuel could see the dark hair between her legs glistening with moisture.

  Well, he was ready, too. He quickly removed his boots, trousers, and shirt, and as his erection sprang into view Victoria was on him, dragging him down onto the bed and mounting him.

  From that point there was so much grunting and groaning going on that someone outside the room might think there was a fight going on inside.