job sound all that appealin’, Mr. Davidson.”
“We’ve ridden shotgun on gold wagons before,” Bo said. “It’s a good way to get killed.”
Davidson shook his head. “I’m not asking you to ride shotgun. I thought that if the two of you trailed the wagons at a short distance, when the bandits attack you’d be able to jump them and take them by surprise.”
Bo took a sip of coffee and slowly nodded. “That might work. Once anyway. After that, the hombres who are after your gold would be watching for us.”
“Once might be enough to scare them off,” Davidson said. “They’ve had their own way so far, like Churchill, and nobody’s been able to stop them. I want to put the fear of God into them. Maybe even wipe them out.”
“Bo and me, we’re pretty tough,” Scratch said, “but even so, I don’t reckon the two of us would be any match for a whole gang of bandidos.”
“I don’t expect the two of you to take care of them by yourselves. I have several other men who’ll be riding back across the border with me. That’s why I came to El Paso, to recruit some good men who can take care of this problem. From what I saw of your abilities in the Birdcage, the two of you will fit right in with the other men I’ve hired.” Davidson looked back and forth between them. “Well, what do you think? Will you take the job? Remember, we haven’t even talked about wages yet, but I’m sure we’d be able to reach an agreement on that matter. I believe in paying for the best.”
“Give us a minute to ponder on it,” Bo said.
“Of course,” Davidson replied with a nod. “I need to speak to the hotel clerk anyway. I’ll wait for you out in the lobby.”
He stood up and walked out of the dining room. Bo and Scratch looked at each other over the remains of their supper, and Scratch said, “What do you think?”
“I don’t much cotton to being lumped in with a bunch of hired guns,” Bo said. “You know that’s what Davidson’s talking about.”
“Yeah, but he seems like a pretty good fella, and he’s got a right to get his gold up here without havin’ it stolen. Not to mention the hombres who work for him bein’ killed like that. Such things don’t sit well with me.”
“I know, you never have liked outlaws. Neither do I.”
Scratch grinned. “And I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t have a hankerin’ to visit Old Mexico again. I ain’t as young as I used to be, and the heat down there feels good on these bones o’ mine.”
“Not to mention the señoritas.”
The grin on Scratch’s rugged face widened. “They feel pretty good on these bones o’ mine, too.”
Slowly, Bo nodded. “Well, since we don’t have anywhere else we have to be…”
“As per usual.”
“I don’t suppose it would hurt anything if we rode down there with Davidson and had a look around. If we don’t like the lay of the land, we can always pull out. Wouldn’t be anything stopping us.”
“That’s right.” Scratch drank the last of his coffee. “Be good to spend some time in Mañana-land again.”
They found Davidson in the lobby. With an eager expression on his face, the man asked, “Have you made up your minds?”
“We’ll ride down there with you,” Bo said. “Whether or not we stay depends on what we find there.”
“Fair enough,” Davidson said with an emphatic nod. He shook hands with them again and added, “I think everything will work out just fine once we get to Cutthroat Canyon.”
CHAPTER 4
Davidson wanted to leave at first light, but since the inquest into the deaths of Little Ed Churchill, his men who had been killed in the attack on the Birdcage, and Three-Toed Johnny Fontana would be held in the morning, Bo and Scratch had to wait for that. If it had been necessary, they would have said to hell with Marshal Jake Hamlin’s order and ridden out anyway, but Davidson thought it over and told them to cooperate with the marshal.
“I don’t want to get on the wrong side of the law,” he said.
He also told Bo and Scratch not to worry about supplies. He would provide everything they needed for the trip to the Cutthroat Canyon mine, which was a two-day ride south of El Paso.
The inquest was held at the county courthouse and was well attended, since Churchill had had plenty of friends and enemies both. The cattleman’s lawyers showed up and indignantly demanded justice for their client, claimed that Bo and Scratch had foully murdered Churchill with no provocation. None of the men who had been with Little Ed testified to back up that claim, however. It seemed that none of those who had been involved in the battle could be found.
On the other hand, August Strittmayer, Porter Davidson, and numerous other citizens of El Paso who had been inside the Birdcage when the shooting started took the stand and told the coroner’s jury exactly what had happened. Once the testimony was concluded, it didn’t take the jury long to return with a verdict stating that Bo Creel and Scratch Morton had been justified in their actions when they shot Churchill, and Strittmayer and his bartenders had been acting in self-defense when they cut loose with those Greeners. Everyone involved was free to go.
“I’ll see you at the livery stable in ten minutes,” Davidson told them as they paused on the steps outside the courthouse. “I want to get back to the mine as soon as I can. Those bandits have never bothered the mine itself, only the ore shipments, but you never know what they might be brave enough to do.”
Strittmayer lumbered down the steps as Davidson departed. The big German shook hands with Bo and Scratch and said, “You cannot wait for Johnny’s funeral?”
Bo shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We gave Davidson our word that we’d ride down to that mine of his with him. You know anything about that hombre, August?”
“Not really,” Strittmayer said with a shrug. “He has been bringing ore shipments here to El Paso for the past six months or so, about every two weeks. His mine must be a good one, ja?”
“He ever cause any trouble?”
“Oh, nein, nein. He is a very friendly fellow and knows a great deal about mining. I know something of that myself, and we have had several good discussions. I like him.”
“So do I,” Scratch said. “I hope we can give him a hand with his problems.”
Strittmayer’s head inclined in a solemn nod. “Ja, the robbers who steal his ore. I have heard about them. You two should be careful. There is much danger below the border.”
“There’s a heap of danger everywhere we go,” Scratch said with a laugh. “It seems like that anyway.”
Bo pressed a coin into Strittmayer’s hand. “Put some flowers on Johnny’s grave for us. He was a good hombre. Deserved to go out better.”
Strittmayer shrugged again. “He died in a saloon. I think he would have preferred that to a bed in some rented
