Slocum's Breakout - Jake Logan [40]
“You will catch him, Sheriff? This awful man Jarvis?”
“’Less he hightails it out of the county, I’ll nab him. I promise you that, Miss Valenzuela.”
“You have posted a reward? Or has the banker man?”
“Galworthy wants him bad, but he wants his gold back even more. Galworthy put a fifty-dollar reward out on Jarvis and a thousand-dollar reward for the return of everything stolen from his bank.” Bernard laughed heartily. “Now what sort of idiot would return five thousand dollars in gold coins for a thousand-dollar reward in scrip?”
“An honest man?” suggested Conchita.
Slocum almost shouted out, “Where’ll you find one of them in this state?” However, he held his tongue and waited for the two riders to drift toward the far side of the clearing. When they entered the woods, he heaved a sigh of relief. The posse was too prideful to admit they had lost him. Instead, they’d either lie about charging after anyone or claim it was only a deer they chased. Either way, they weren’t likely to return.
He wasn’t as certain about the sheriff and knew that Conchita had to join her family eventually. Riding about in a circle failed to reveal any tracks. He ruefully admitted he had lost José and his father. That put his plan into a cocked hat, unless he got lucky. That didn’t seem too likely since he had just used up what luck he had avoiding the posse and the sheriff.
“Conchita,” he said softly. She was his ticket to the hideout and the loot from both the stagecoach robbery and Galworthy’s bank.
Slocum looked around, found a spot where he could watch the clearing when the woman returned and get some idea which direction she chose to follow her brother and pa. He rode to the thicket, dismounted, and took time to drink some water from his canteen and even sit down to rest. He was bleeding from dozens of scratches from his romp through the forest, and the last branch had whacked him hard enough to give him a headache now that the excitement was over and done.
Leaning back against a tree trunk, he closed his eyes to rest them for a moment. When he snapped alert, he reached for his six-shooter, thinking something was seriously wrong. Panic died down when he realized the hit on the head hadn’t left him blind. His eyes were wide open, but it was to a forest veiled in night. He had passed out for most of the day, missing Conchita’s return. Worse, he had been a sitting duck if the sheriff’s men had come back.
Or José Valenzuela. The man had gunned down the stagecoach passengers without provocation. There was no telling how deep his vicious streak ran. Finding Slocum passed out would be a godsend for him.
If Conchita had found him, she would have summoned the sheriff to take him off to the lockup again. She was far cleverer than her brother and knew Slocum being in jail got them off the hook. Bernard would stop looking for bank robbers if he thought he had one behind bars.
Body aching from being in one position all afternoon long, he climbed to his feet and led his rested horse out into the clearing. If the sheriff and Conchita had been there talking, José and their pa would have ridden through the woods some distance away. Conchita would have distracted the lawman until they had reached a trail to take them to their hideout.
Slocum spent the rest of the night searching for that trail and couldn’t find it. He reluctantly came to admit the Valenzuelas had outsmarted him—and they hadn’t even known they were doing it.
Or was it Conchita who had gotten the better of him? He had her pegged as being the brains in that family.
Finally mounting, he rode slowly to the road. By now the robbery would be known all the way to Miramar. Slocum rode to the rocky notch in the road and saw inky spots in the dust where the passengers had bled. The starlight didn’t give him much illumination, but he didn’t need it. He had seen what happened earlier. Not sure what he was looking for, he rode