Slocum's Breakout - Jake Logan [41]
Only then did he turn toward Murrieta’s village. Telling him of his failure didn’t set well with Slocum, but they had to come up with another scheme to keep Atencio from hanging. All the way back to the village Slocum thought hard on this and finally came up with another plan even more far-fetched than letting the Valenzuelas rob the stage and then track them to their hideout so he could rob them.
This time Slocum recognized his plan for what it was: pure desperation.
“I stole it from the clotheslines,” Maria said, holding out the uniform and estimating how it would fit Slocum.
He eyed the prison guard’s blue wool jacket with distaste. The brass buttons needed polishing, and the trousers with the jacket were far too short for his six-foot frame. Maria stepped closer, and he felt the heat from her body as she pressed against him, sizing up the waist. The trousers would go around his middle once and then half again over.
“I can sew in pleats,” she said.
“Cut the cloth out and sew it onto the cuffs.” Slocum looked down, and the bottom of the trousers were only a little more than midcalf. “I’ll stick out like a sore thumb if you don’t.”
“I can do this,” Maria said thoughtfully. She looked up at him, her face open and concerned. “Do you want to do such a brave thing for Atencio?”
He kissed her quickly, but she wouldn’t have any of that tiny peck. She gave him a real kiss, hot and passionate, tongue working feverishly, lips crushing fiercely. Only when they heard Murrieta approaching, singing a song in his deep voice, did they part reluctantly.
“So,” Murrieta said, seeing them inside the hut, “you have finally gotten into his pants?” Murrieta laughed. Slocum held back a surge of anger at him as Maria blushed furiously. She held out the pants and pointed silently to the jacket.
“If Atencio is due to be hanged at sundown, I’ve got to hurry,” Slocum said. “Is everything ready?”
Murrieta looked stricken as he said, “I have done what I can. You are our savior, John Slocum.”
“Only if I get him out.” Slocum looked at his Colt Navy in its holster on the rickety table. He had to leave that behind. Guards inside San Quentin didn’t carry firearms other than rifles. They relied on their truncheons, but Slocum didn’t want to be burdened with one. Murrieta had given him three knives, which he was going to hide in case he needed them. Realistically, Slocum knew that if he was found out, three knives wouldn’t be enough. A Gatling gun might not be enough to get away.
Not for the first time he cursed himself for agreeing to free Atencio. Then he looked at Murrieta and saw his desolation. Maria was even more wracked with anguish, making him reach out and touch her cheek. She pressed his fingers into her flesh, turned slightly, and kissed his hand.
“You will come back,” she said in a choked voice.
“Fix the trousers,” he said. She swallowed and then hurried away to cut out the extra material from the waist and tack it onto the cuffs so he wouldn’t be noticed as easily.
He shrugged into the jacket. The sleeves were too short but were less noticeable if he left the front unbuttoned.
“You have sheaths for the knives,” Murrieta said. “What else? A small pistol? You can hide it in the waistband.”
Slocum remembered how floppy the waist would have been and said, “I could hide a couple rifles in there.” He laughed. “I’ll need a couple horses.”
“I will get them. When you get Atencio out, you will need a spare.”
“Make that four horses,” Slocum said. Seeing Murrieta’s surprise, he explained, “We will switch off when one gets tired. I said we, since you’re coming with me. I need someone outside.” He saw that Murrieta was shocked at the idea he had to do something to aid his friend.
“Atencio will need a spare,” Murrieta said. “Will we need more? Each of us will ride with a spare to the prison, but leaving, we will have only one spare.”
Slocum hoped it worked out that way. He strapped the knives into place, one on each leg and another along his left forearm. Then Maria returned with his pants.