Jailbreak by Giles Tippette

just like the other two. Hays came in, but he took one look at my face and retired to a chair and stared out the window at the business on the street.
    Then, and a good deal to my surprise, there came a knock at the door. Hays opened it and there stood Obregon’s clerk. The first thought that hit me was that I had wasted money on powder and kerosene and derringers and sending for Lew for nothing. Obregon was going to keep his word.
    Luís looked extremely nervous. He refused to come in, just stood in the doorway twisting his hands. He said, “The Senor Obregon has sent me. He regrets, he regrets—”
    “He regrets what?”
    He got hold of himself enough then to deliver his practiced speech. He said, “The señor regrets that there have been complications. Also at the last moment. It will be but a small delay and he begs you be patient. Unfortunately, he cannot tell you theese thengs himself because he will be from the city tomorrow. When he returns, on the day following, he bids you call on him. He is certain of success. It may require perhaps a little, a leetle, uh . . .”
    I helped him. “Little more money?”
    He looked grateful. “Yes. Thank you and good day, señor.”
    I smiled thinly at him. “What about me seeing my brother?”
    “Oh!” He looked like a schoolboy that had forgot part of his lesson. “The Señor Obregon wishes me to tell you you may visit your brother at any time.”
    I said, “Well, you just tell the good lawyer that I appreciate his help. Tell him I will most certainly see him on his return. He will be back the day after tomorrow?”
    “Oh, yes.”
    “Fine,” I said. I gave him that thin smile again.
    When he was gone Hays said, “What if he runs off with the money, boss?”
    “Oh, he ain’t going to do that,” I said. “He’ll be back for some more milk. He’s just trying to make me a little anxious is all. Figures that makes the milk easier to get.”
    I settled back comfortably and poured myself a drink. For a second I’d been confused, but now I was content to know that Obregon was dependably undependable.
    Hays said, “Well, what you reckon?”
    I said, “I reckon some folks around here have gone to the thin edge of the outside. Only they ain’t discovered it yet.”
    Hays said, “You sound downright cheerful.”
    I said, “I am. Never did like my business being handled by other people. Say, ain’t you supposed to be down at the train depot meeting Lew Vara?”
    “Next train ain’t ’til seven an’ it’s jest goin’ five now.”
    I said, “You always got an excuse, ain’t you, Ray.”
    He left and I did some more waiting. I reckoned I’d done more waiting in the last several days than I’d ever been guilty of in my whole life before. One thing I was doing was keeping my mind carefully away from Nora and our wedding. I didn’t truthfully know how many days off it was, but I knew it was getting uncomfortably close. The reason I couldn’t pinpoint the time exactly was because I didn’t actually know what the date was and didn’t have a calendar handy to find out. Of course I could have figured it out by counting backwards to a day the date of which I knew. But I was in no hurry to do so. I figured to handle one worry at a time.
    Jack and Ben came back at about six o’clock looking dusty and tired. They came in and slumped down at the table and reached for the whiskey. I let them get a drink apiece down before I asked how it had went.
    Jack shook his head. He said, “Depend on a Mex to git it wrong. ’Twas more like twenty miles than twenty kilometers.”
    “Hot as hell,” Ben said.
    I said, “Hell, I didn’t send you on no pleasure ride. Did you find the damn ranch?”
    “We found it,” Jack said. “Not a hell of a big spread. Not the kind of place you’d need ten men to work.”
    Ben laughed.
    I said, “I ain’t interested in Señor Elizandro’s managing talents. I want to know about his men. Will they come?”
    “Seven will,” Jack