"No, solo son trabajadores. Son pobres hombres. No creo que roben un caballo, pero no lo sé," says the Jesuit brother. "Me dio cien dólares para mantenerme a salvo y me pagó veinte por hacerlo."
Eugene presses the priest. "¿Por qué están armados?"
"Para recoger leña. Lo traen aquí para cambiarlo por pan y queso."
"Señor, cualquier campesino que haya visto algo nunca le hablará de eso," replies the Jesuit brother. "No quieren problemas."
"Preacher, I know you speak English plenty good," says McCord. "Why don't you get someone to bury these poor bastards." He kicks a little dust onto one of the dead mean and tosses a silver dollar to the Jesuit brother. "That's for the mess." Turning to Eugene and Lars, McCord says, "Well, unless you got some business with me I'm about to ride on. God be with you."
Continuing onward, there's no sign of any activity at the camp you came upon, nor of anyone following you, and the ride down the arroyo is uneventful. The arroyo gradually shallows out and fades to nothing as it slopes up and you find yourself looking at some prime pastures of green grass thanks to good water. You see dozens of fat beeves grazing and perhaps a mile ahead you see what must be the ranch. A couple of waddies appear to be trying to rope an ornery ladino while another is branding a leppy with an iron burning red-hot with the Lazy K brand.
"Excuse me, I'm a bit fertummelt," he begins, wiping sweat from his brow. "Are you the men chasing to catch the robbers? I don't like to be a yenta but since I was robbed as well, maybe I can get a little justice in this shvarts yor. I know one of the robbers was Buckskin Johnny. His bandana slipped loose and his face I see, clear as day."
A temporary ranch worker, derived from "wadding" used to fill a gap.
"I reckon she pays our wages," says a tall, lean cowpoke with a prominent gap between his front teeth. He whistles to get the attention of the others and then shouts, "Aaron! Why don't you take a break and show these lawmen to Mrs. Kerrigan?"
"He's a known troublemaker. Him and his compadre Honcho de la Vega skirt the edge of the law. I got nothing I can make stick yet, but I've been watching their doings in town. They spend a lot of time at the cantina consorting and carousing and always seem to have more spending money than they should. They claim to be prospectors, but I doubt it."
You and Lars were going to see if the Andersson brothers were interested in providing any assistance in dealing with the outlaw gang, or to otherwise obtain from them any information that might be useful. Lars was elected emissary because he's Nordic and Eugene volunteered to accompany him.
"Maybe so, maybe no," he shrugs. Then his face lights with a realization: "My initials I always etch in any gold I buy, to identify, and from Mr. Rydell yesterday I bought a six-ounce nugget. It was taken by Buckskin Johnny. It would be goyisher mazel if that farkakte gonef still has it. Would that satisfy the law that he robbed me?"
"I'm afraid you are very much mistaken, señor," says Álvaro Álvarez de Chacón, "for I have only recently returned from Tucson and learned of the bank robbery from the loose tongues of Saguaro. I cannot blame them too much, for it is a small town and there is little excitement." Gesturing to María Dolores, he adds, "Señorita Robles y Quiñones has agreed to be my good luck charm when I return to the cardroom. Since you are already acquainted, perhaps you would care to join us. The hotel's tequila is not as bad as I would have presumed on this side of the border."
"You behave quite curious-like for a lawman. What's it to you what my business with Crenshaw is?" he responds. "But I got nothing to hide so I'll tell you: I made a deal with his brother Mercutio and we need him to sign off on it as well. I was told he was around these parts and when I came across some cattle wearing his brand, some Mexican wouldn't say how he got 'em. I got other business in Hermosillo to take care of now and can't waste any more time here. I'll have to try again when I get back in a month or two."
"Have it your way," Aaron says as he leads you up to the well-guarded and well-maintained front gate of the Lazy K Ranch.
"You don't listen too good for a lawman, do you? Clean the wax out of your ears. I done told you my name is Clint McCord. You tell your boss to meet me at the Western Star Hotel in Saguaro on the first of August to discuss a business arrangement I'm making with his brother Mercutio, or he can ride out to Arizona City a week after that."
Eugene holsters his gun. "I'll give him the message. Sorry for the trouble."
!
Laura Kerrigan skeptically raises an eyebrow and says, "'Course I've heard of 'em. They've been stealing my beeves, haven't they? What do the cotton-pickin' folks of Saguaro have to do with anything?"
