Mason Montgomery sipped from his glass, watching the man sitting opposite. He flinched slightly at the voice as it seemed to scrape the air from the room. The time had come, he thought. No more wasting effort trying to talk Easterly into selling, or scaring him off. Action, and the man in the room with him was the answer.

"I said, where do you want it done?"

"Sorry. I was just thinking how long I've waited for this to happen."

"You could have moved sooner. My brother was killed a long time ago."

"I was up against the Pinkertons. If I had moved back then, we all would have been hunted down. As it is, he's still one of theirs."

"That's why I'm not doing it."

"What!" Montgomery spilled his drink. "What do mean, you--"

"I've got two men, primed, paid and ready to go. Our agreement still stands – as well as the money you promised." The voice scratched in Montgomery's ear.

The man went to the table beside his host and picked up the bottle, swilling a long mouthful and setting it back down, carefully.

"That's why I want to know where you want it done. His place? On the trail, or publicly in town?"

"Wouldn't you like to make that choice, considering your brother?"

"Town it is."

"Houseman, no back feed to me. Remember."

"You just get that money together, I'll be back soon to collect."

****

Hoke left the telegraph office, crushing the reply in his hand as he stalked toward the sheriff's office. He might have known the agency wouldn't move on a rumour, and if the sheriff hadn't said anything, he was stumped as to what to do.

"Hoke, you realize the kinda weight Montgomery carries in Nugget? I can't go out there on say so and accuse him of breaking the law." The sheriff began his defence as soon as the door opened.

"It was his own man Morley that told me. Ask him."

The sheriff pulled at his chin and went behind his desk. "Morley and a couple of other boys left town last night."

Hoke gaped. "Left! What more do you need? He wanted no part of it.

"They coulda just gone somewhere on ranch business, Hoke."

"You ain't gonna do anything, are ya?"

The sheriff held his hands out, shrugging, and trying to look sympathetic.

****

"Hate to be a bother," the hotel clerk fumbled, as Hoke entered the hotel, heading for the saloon. "There's the matter of eight dollars owed for the lady's room . . . and uh, another three for you."

"I ain't got it all right now, Edward. Soon as my pay comes in, you'll get it."

"Sure, but when is that, Hoke? I hafta answer to the company."

"Look, here's two dollars. I need some to live on 'til then."

"When is then, Hoke?"

"I'll check with the telegraph first thing in the mornin'. You know I'm good for it, Edward." He patted the clerk's arm, turning away and entering the saloon.

A few of the ever present frequenters were huddled at their regular tables, random burps or a shuffle of feet the only sounds. Conversation long since used up. Hoke leaned on the bar and asked about Morley.

"Lit out yesterday. Came in for a last drink and left."

"Who was with him?"

"Digger Spence and that short, red-headed fella . . . Rob, or Bob somethin'"

"Rob Pike."

"That's him."

"Did they say why they were leaving?"

The bartender made a cursory swipe at some water stains with his towel, eyes averted.

"C'mon, Terry."

"You know what they're sayin', Hoke, 'bout Montgomery hirin' a gun. Them boys didn't mind the tough talk, but when your cabin was burned, and then this gunfighter business . . . well, they wanted no part."

Hoke hit the bar with a soft fist, nodding. "Thanks, Terry."

"You drinkin'?"

"Not right now."

"On me."

"Thanks again. Maybe later."

"You take care, son."

Hoke smiled and headed out, stopping short when the three men entered the bar.

"Aiee, Chihuahua! Ees the greengo what had nothing een hees satchel!"

"Hola, amigo mío." The man who shot the hole in his Stetson, slapped him on the back, grinning maliciously.

"Howdy, boys. If you'll excuse--"

"No, no, senor. We dreenk together. You buy." The smile was huge, but threatening. "We plenty thirsty after walking so far."

"Where are your horses?"

"That eese non of your beesness, senor."

"Solo toma su dinero y bebamos". Alesandro shot Hoke a dark look.

"Hold it right there, Oscar." The bartender rested a large double-barrelled shotgun on the counter, aimed at the trio.

"Terry, Terry, amigo mío. We don't need no gons."

"Let the man be on his way, Oscar."

"Sure, okay, okay. See you again, Greengo, yes?"

"Likely." Hoke touched his hat to Terry and left. A quick trip back to the sheriff's to let him know about the Santiagos, then somewhere quiet, to think.

****

Houseman turned his hat in his hand, brushing the brim as he spoke to his men.

"You're gonna do it in town, and I want folks to see – to remember. You got your money, you know the man, don't mess up or there won't be no place you can hide from me."

"Don't worry, Theo," the man swung up into the saddle, his silver tipped boots snug in the stirrups. "Easterly is as good as dead."

"See that he is." Theo watched them ride off, his lips curling back in a sneer. "See that he is," he repeated through gritted teeth.

****

The stage arrived in Nugget on time for a change, and Alicia got out and went straight into the hotel.

"Miss Porter? I- I thought you checked out." Edward exclaimed.

"I did but I'm back. and I would like my room again, please."

"Miss Porter- ma'am – there's uh, six dollars owing still from when you . . ." He deducted the two from Hoke to soften the statement a little.

Alicia frowned, and dug into her purse. "Here is your six dollars. Now, my key please."

"Uhm- how long will you be--"

"Good heavens, I don't know!"

Oscar paused, holding his drink away and cocking his head. The voice! He knew that voice. He put his beer down and walked to the lobby, stopping in the saloon entrance, feet apart, hands on hips.

"Well, well, ees senorita weeth the beeg mouth."

Alicia turned, shocked to see the Mexican robber.

"Deed you com back to say you were sawry to Oscar?" He tipped his shoulders in an arrogant move. "Maybe you weesh to geev me those valuables now."

Edward slipped away quickly and ran for the sheriff, meeting him on the street.

"It's the Santiagos, and they are threatening Miss Porter."

"Porter? She left the other day."

"She's back."

"What in tarnation is going on in this dang town." He took longer strides, one hand clamped on his holstered pistol.

At the door he stopped and peered through the glass at the scene inside.

The taller brother was trying to push his way past Oscar, shouting.

"Llevémosla con nosotros, dejemos de perder el tiempo."

"He wants to take her with them."

"Do something."

"I ain't going in there against those three crazies. Go around the back and get Terry to come up behind them."

Edward took off and the sheriff continued watching. The smaller brother joined them, adding his two cents.

"Pagarán mucho para recuperarla."

"Oh, no. They want to ransom her." He whispered to himself.

As he waited for Terry to appear, he saw Oscar take a bold step forward, gun out, threatening the woman. When he got close, she whipped up her parasol and opened it in his face. The gun went off and there was a lot of yelling and cursing. Terry arrived, his shotgun advising the other two brothers to stand down, while Alicia advanced dangerously, parasol swinging and jabbing at the helpless Oscar.

Within moments, all was under control. The Santiagos were disarmed and tied together with a rope from the hotel kitchen. Alicia was seated on a chair in the lobby, being soothed by one of the kitchen help. Terry was collecting change from the Mexican's pockets for the drinks, and Edward, hanky dabbing at his neck, was back behind his counter.

The doors burst open and Hoke stepped in, eyes darting about.

"Heard a gunshot!" His mouth suddenly dropped. "Alicia?"