Slocum's Breakout - Jake Logan [59]
The rapid-fire Spanish coming from inside the cabin slowed his advance. Crouched low, he went to the back wall and pressed his eye against the rough wood until he found a chink that allowed him to peer inside. At first he wasn’t sure what he saw, then realized Conchita was sitting with her back to the hole. When she moved, he caught sight of José at a table. His sister joined him at the table.
“We need more,” she said irritably. “You gave away too much to Slocum.”
“He would have killed papa if I hadn’t,” protested José.
“But so much!”
Slocum scowled. The greedy bitch begrudged even two hundred dollars for her father?
“The sheriff was supposed to catch him with the money. We would have been able to steal it back. Bernard would have locked it in his desk.” José made a dismissive gesture. “Stealing from a locked desk is easier than from a bank vault.”
“But a thousand dollars!”
“That is what he demanded. Isn’t papa worth that much?” José leaned forward and took his sister’s hands in his. She pulled away and half turned. Slocum froze because she stared directly at him—at the crack in the wall.
When she looked back at her brother, Slocum relaxed and had to marvel at what a bunch of road agents this family was. José had cheated his own sister out of eight hundred dollars. And he looked good in his pa’s eyes for paying so much in the exchange.
“I love him, but is he worth it? All he does is sleep and eat.” Conchita pointed in the direction of a corner where Slocum couldn’t see. The viejo must have been asleep.
“At least they fed him,” José said.
“An expensive meal, if you ask me.”
“Very well. We can do one more robbery,” José said in resignation. “The stagecoach is too heavily guarded now. There is nothing left in the bank. What else can we rob?”
“There is plenty in San Francisco,” she said.
“The police! They are everywhere, they are monsters! If we failed, they would beat us within an inch of our lives, then put us into their terrible jail.”
“Then we don’t fail. I have an idea which will serve us well. At the Palace Hotel tomorrow night is a big society dance. The richest of los ricos will be there. We steal a few necklaces, a wallet or two, take what we can, and then leave.”
“We steal from all?”
“Fool,” snapped Conchita. “We take what we can. It will be plenty, more than the pitiful few coins from the bank, more than the greenbacks from the stage. We rob them, then we go immediately to the ferry and cross to Oakland. From there we can go anywhere we please.”
“What of the gold we have?”
Conchita pursed her lips. Slocum had to move about to get a better look at her face. She was in silhouette and utterly lovely. He was reminded anew how he had fallen under her spell.
“We must trust Papa,” she said finally. “We give him everything. Put it on a pack animal, in saddlebags, however it is most easily carried. He can find his way to the ferry and wait for us on the other side.”
“Why not send him now? He can get a hotel room to wait.”
“A good idea, José,” she said, taking his hands now and stroking them. “If we find ourselves hurried by the police, dealing with him would slow us. Yes, we can send him ahead. It might be good to have a place to hide if pursuit is greater than I expect it to be.”
“Now?”
Conchita shrugged, then said, “We should. I will take him to the stash and send him on his way. I will meet you in Portsmouth Square tomorrow at sundown. That will give us time to prepare. Bring all our guns.”
“This will be dangerous, hermana.”
“Without risk, there can be no gain. Help me rouse him. I want to get started right away.”
Slocum turned and pressed his back against the wall as he listened to them awaken their pa, get him dressed and out the door. An itchy feeling worked on him as he heard Conchita and her father ride away . . . to the stash where they had hidden everything they had stolen. Gold coins, scrip, all of it. If he got the drop on Conchita when she dug up the money, he could ride away and be rich—or at least well paid for all he had been through.
But there was Atencio. And Maria. And the promise