especially since he rode with brutal murderers, which eventhough we’d killed people, we didn’t consider ourselves (though I now see that the distinction is pretty thin). We decided to do it, though J never really said yes, he just didn’t say no. He was thinking of going legitimate as a carpenter and was getting religious
.
Long after midnight, we went to the jail. D knocked on the door, saying there’d been a shooting, and the younger one opened the door to find a gun in his face. The other fellow and I stormed in, guns pointed at the older guard, who raised his hands like we told him. He then told us he didn’t have the keys. I asked him where the keys were and he said the deputy—the one who wasn’t killed—had them at his house. This was starting to get complicated
.
D and I took the older guard and had him lead us to the deputy’s home, which was a fair distance away. Outside the deputy’s home I looked at the old guard and told him what to say and what I’d do to him if he didn’t follow the plan. D and I hid on either side of the door, pressed flat in the shadows. The old guard knocked and after a minute the deputy’s wife came to the door. He told her he needed the keys because the prisoners had a scuffle and one got his arm broken in half and was screaming crazy. The deputy arrived, yawning, and said he’d go over and help deal with the prisoners. After he shut the door, I put a gun in his back and said, “Walk.” D, who had his gun pressed to the old guard, followed behind
.
We got to the jail and put handcuffs and gags on the old guard and the deputy like J had already done to the teenage guard. D took the keys from the deputy’s belt and he and I went to the back of the jail and opened the door leading to the cells
.
D and I saw the men we were about to break out of jail—a big fat fellow with blond hair who looked likean overgrown toddler and a swarthy pair of identical twins who looked like reptiles. I could tell that D was having his doubts too, but we opened the cells and let these men out. They didn’t thank us or anything. They just walked into the main area and went into the drawers to fetch their guns
.
We put the deputy and guards in the empty cells and locked them up. We left the jail and got to our horses—we had picked up a few extra for the fugitives—and rode out of Santa Fuerte without any problems
.
We rondyvewd with Quinlan at my house in Nuevo Pueblo. The Irishman looked at the fugitives with an unfriendly gaze and said, “Don’t do that again,” and the twins and the big toddler (who was probably my age) nodded and turned their heads down like whipped children
.
There were eight of us then, which Quinlan thought was just enough to pull off his plot. We ate and went to sleep and the next day rode out to Indian country
.
There was a tribe of Indians in southwest Arizona called the Appanuqi, and of all the Indians in the West, they were the most feared. When white men first moved into that land, the Appanuqi did not attack isolated coaches or stragglers—they swept down and raided the settlements. They killed most of the settlers, but always left a few alive, usually boys and girls, who they blinded with torches. When these children returned to the fringes of civilization, blind and sometimes mute, other people weren’t quick to follow the trails of their wagon wheels. Also, the Appanuqi traveled with grotesques for entertainment, Mexicans, other types of Indians and white people they had reshaped with doctoring and stoning and torture. The Appanuqis fought the other Indians and amongst themselves and were disappearing because of it. Not muchelse was known about these Indians because they did not ever speak to white men
.
So when Quinlan told us that we were going to an Appanuqi settlement, the Tall Boxer Gang reined in. The other four pulled their steeds around and looked at us and at our hands
.
I asked why any sane fellow would go there and Quinlan said,
.
Long after midnight, we went to the jail. D knocked on the door, saying there’d been a shooting, and the younger one opened the door to find a gun in his face. The other fellow and I stormed in, guns pointed at the older guard, who raised his hands like we told him. He then told us he didn’t have the keys. I asked him where the keys were and he said the deputy—the one who wasn’t killed—had them at his house. This was starting to get complicated
.
D and I took the older guard and had him lead us to the deputy’s home, which was a fair distance away. Outside the deputy’s home I looked at the old guard and told him what to say and what I’d do to him if he didn’t follow the plan. D and I hid on either side of the door, pressed flat in the shadows. The old guard knocked and after a minute the deputy’s wife came to the door. He told her he needed the keys because the prisoners had a scuffle and one got his arm broken in half and was screaming crazy. The deputy arrived, yawning, and said he’d go over and help deal with the prisoners. After he shut the door, I put a gun in his back and said, “Walk.” D, who had his gun pressed to the old guard, followed behind
.
We got to the jail and put handcuffs and gags on the old guard and the deputy like J had already done to the teenage guard. D took the keys from the deputy’s belt and he and I went to the back of the jail and opened the door leading to the cells
.
D and I saw the men we were about to break out of jail—a big fat fellow with blond hair who looked likean overgrown toddler and a swarthy pair of identical twins who looked like reptiles. I could tell that D was having his doubts too, but we opened the cells and let these men out. They didn’t thank us or anything. They just walked into the main area and went into the drawers to fetch their guns
.
We put the deputy and guards in the empty cells and locked them up. We left the jail and got to our horses—we had picked up a few extra for the fugitives—and rode out of Santa Fuerte without any problems
.
We rondyvewd with Quinlan at my house in Nuevo Pueblo. The Irishman looked at the fugitives with an unfriendly gaze and said, “Don’t do that again,” and the twins and the big toddler (who was probably my age) nodded and turned their heads down like whipped children
.
There were eight of us then, which Quinlan thought was just enough to pull off his plot. We ate and went to sleep and the next day rode out to Indian country
.
There was a tribe of Indians in southwest Arizona called the Appanuqi, and of all the Indians in the West, they were the most feared. When white men first moved into that land, the Appanuqi did not attack isolated coaches or stragglers—they swept down and raided the settlements. They killed most of the settlers, but always left a few alive, usually boys and girls, who they blinded with torches. When these children returned to the fringes of civilization, blind and sometimes mute, other people weren’t quick to follow the trails of their wagon wheels. Also, the Appanuqi traveled with grotesques for entertainment, Mexicans, other types of Indians and white people they had reshaped with doctoring and stoning and torture. The Appanuqis fought the other Indians and amongst themselves and were disappearing because of it. Not muchelse was known about these Indians because they did not ever speak to white men
.
So when Quinlan told us that we were going to an Appanuqi settlement, the Tall Boxer Gang reined in. The other four pulled their steeds around and looked at us and at our hands
.
I asked why any sane fellow would go there and Quinlan said,
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