Dillinger - Jack Higgins [21]
'I didn't even know we'd passed through Chihuahua.'
'Didn't seem any point in waking you. We were only there for twenty minutes while they changed the engine.'
La Lina swam towards them out of the darkness as the train coasted in and slowed to a halt. There was a small station house with a couple of shacks behind it and nothing more. The station-master came out carrying a lantern, and three Mestizos in straw hats and blankets, who had been crouching against the wall, got to their feet and came forward.
Fallon and Dillinger jumped to the ground and walked towards the rear of the train. A couple of box cars had been linked on behind the flat car on which the Chevrolet had been roped into place. When they paused to light cigarettes they heard a low whinny and the muffled stamp of hooves.
'When did they join us?' Dillinger said.
'Chihuahua. The guard told me they were thoroughbreds going up to Juarez for the races next week.'
When they turned to retrace their steps the three Mestizos were standing patiently beside the train, hands in the air, while the station-master and guard searched them thoroughly.
'What's all that about?' Dillinger said.
'They say that the train's been robbed three times in the last four months,' Fallon told him. 'Bandits get on at way-stations dressed like dirt farmers. Last year in Sonora they shot the engineer of the night express and left it to freewheel down a gradient. Ran off the track after five miles.'
They boarded the train again and the guard closed the door. He turned and said in English, 'I notice, senors, that you have moved into a first-class compartment.'
Dillinger replied, 'It's too crowded in the other coach.'
'It is also cheaper, senor. You are prepared to pay the necessary addition?'
'Now there you put me in a delicate position,' Dillinger told him.
The guard shrugged and replied with perfect politeness, 'Then I'm afraid I must ask you to resume your former seats. I have my duty - you understand?'
'I knew it was too good to last,' Fallon said.
They got their cases from the compartment and moved back into the second-class coach. Most of the occupants were sleeping and they sat down in their original seats in the corner by the door which led to the luggage van.
Fallon laid his head on his arms. Dillinger tilted his hat forward, saw a young Indian girl in a red skirt, a large cloth bundle on the floor between them. She stared past him into the wall, blindly, as if in a trance.
He finished his cigarette and closed his eyes. A few moments later he was aware of the girl moving. He glanced up and saw that she was looking back along the coach at the three Mestizos who had boarded the train at La Lina. One of them nodded briefly.
The man removed his blanket and stood up. He was of medium height, broad shoulders bulging beneath the faded khaki shirt, and the Indian blood showed in the high cheekbones and broad nose.
The girl went forward without a word, placed her bundle on the table and untied it. The three men immediately reached inside and took out revolvers. Dillinger nudged Fallon with his elbow.
'Hey, this is terrific. We've got company.'
Fallon sat up and cursed softly. 'Well, I'll be damned. Juan Villa.'
'You know him?'
'Used to be one of Rivera's peons. Stuck his knife into a foreman a couple of years back. A real firebrand. You ever hear of Pancho Villa?'
'Sure.'
'Juan claims to be his nephew. Bullshit, but it goes down big with the peasants.'
On seeing Fallon, Villa's face was illuminated by a smile of great natural charm. He raised a hand warningly as his two companions went towards opposite ends of the coach.
'You would be wise to place your guns on the table, old friend,' he said in halting English. 'It would desolate me to have to kill you.'
'We aren't armed,' Fallon told him.
'Then stay where you are and don't try to interfere.'
He raised his revolver and fired once through the roof. The effect was astonishing, a sudden eruption