The Complete Western Stories of Elmore Leonard - Elmore Leonard [141]
“I’m not obligated to confront known hostiles. That’s common sense.”
Fisher moved out of the doorway. “You don’t have a choice. Get out there and find out what they want.” He waved the long-barreled pistol. “Come on, all of you except the women. They stay here.”
In the yard Corsen glanced back once at the two outlaws in the doorway. Then they had reached the adobe wall and his gaze swung back to the five Mescaleros who had reined in a hundred paces beyond the wall.
Bonito was a pony’s length ahead of the others. He did not resemble the man Corsen had talked to earlier. The flop-brimmed hat was gone and now his coarse face was paint-streaked—a line of ochre from ear to ear crossing the bridge of his nose, another over his chin. His headband was yellow, bright against long hair glistening with oil. Only one thing about him was the same—the Maynard across his lap.
Behind him were Bil-Clin, chief at the Pinaleño Agency, Bil-Clin’s son, Sunshine, and two other Indians. All four were armed with oldmodel carbines.
Corsen’s eyes remained on the Mescaleros, but he said to Sellers, “Let’s see you go out and teach them a lesson.”
Sellers did not reply at first. He kept his eyes on the five Apaches, waiting, expecting them to make a move. Then he said, “All right. Ask him what he wants.”
Corsen hesitated. He wanted to make it hard for Sellers, not offer any assistance, but there was Katie and the others to think of. He boosted himself over the wall, then motioned to the Apaches to come on.
They moved forward, Bonito still in the lead, and when they were less than ten feet from the wall Bonito raised his arm and they stopped there. “Cor-sen, we speak to each other again.”
“But this time not by accident.”
“You told me before that you were not with this one now.” Bonito’s eyes shifted to Sellers.
“These are not ordinary circumstances,” Corsen answered. “Tell me why you are here and I’ll relate it to him.”
Bonito waited, then nodded toward Sellers. “There is the reason.”
“What would you have me tell him?”
“Tell him that he will come with us, until pesh-e-gar—many of them—are brought here tomorrow.”
“Rifles!”
“Enough for as many of us that could stand in line from here to the house there. And many bullets for the pesh-e-gar. This one”—he nodded again to Sellers—“will remain with us until they are brought and the
ones who bring them depart again. Then he will be released and my people will go with me from Pinaleño across the Bravos and there we will fight the Nakai-yes.”
Corsen turned to the others. “He says he needs guns to make war on the Mexicans.” Then to Bonito. “You would, of course, not use the guns on this side of the Bravos.”
Bonito nodded solemnly.
“The guns would have to be acquired at Fort Thomas. How do you know the Army would let you have them? Perhaps this man isn’t worth a hundred rifles.”
Bonito’s face barely moved as he spoke. “Killing this one would be a reward in itself.”
Corsen paused. “What if he refuses to go with you?”
“At Pinaleño you would find only the women and the children.” He turned his head, indicating the dense pines of the higher slope. “The warriors are here, Cor-sen. You are six. Then two men in the house and two women. If he does not come with us, then we will come into your house there—”
Corsen concealed his surprise. “You observe our number well.”
Bonito said, “I have been here longer than a full day, waiting for this time. And you see I did not count the Mexican man. He has agreed to remain with us until this one comes to take his place.”
Corsen glanced at Billy Teachout. “He says they’ve got Delgado.”
“Oh-my-God—”
Sellers moved closer to Corsen.
“What else does he want?”
“He wants you.”
“Me!”
“We get you back in exchange for about a hundred rifles,” Corsen added. “I don’t know what makes him think you’re worth that many.”
“Tell him,” Sellers said evenly, “that if he doesn’t get back to Pinaleño by sundown he’ll be shot. Along with Bil-Clin and his boy.”
“Pinaleño has moved here,” Corsen answered. “The braves are up in the