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Updated: June 21, 2025
"Where's my horse?" he challenged, ignoring her solicitude. She shook her head. "I do not know. Malvey is gone." "That's a cinch! You sure worked it slick." "I do not understand." "Well, I do." Pete studied her face. Despite his natural distrust, he realized that the girl was innocent of plotting against him.
They jogged on, neither speaking for many miles. When Malvey did speak, his manner was the least bit patronizing. He could not quite understand Pete, yet The Spider had seemed to understand him. As Pete had said nothing about the trouble that had driven him to the desert, Malvey considered silence on that subject emanated from a lack of trust.
Pete wondered why that individual had chosen to keep from sight so long, not aware that The Spider had sent word to Malvey, who was at Mescalero's ranch, a few miles east of Showdown, that a posse from the Blue had ridden in and might be somewhere in the vicinity.
"Perhaps it is that you have killed a man?" ventured Boca, curious to know why he was there. Pete hesitated, as he eyed her sharply. There seemed to be no motive behind her question other than simple curiosity. "I've put better men than Malvey out of business," he asserted. Boca eyed him with a new interest.
He did not know what would happen if he refused to go yet he knew that something would happen. It was not the first time that Flores's wife had interfered in quarrels of the border outlaws sojourning at the ranch. In Showdown men said that she would as soon knife a man as not. Malvey, who had lived much in Old Mexico, had seen women use the knife. He went without a word.
You will not forget us. You will come again, alone in the night. And it is not Malvey that will show you the way." "Not if I see him first, señora." "You jest but even now you would kill Malvey if he were here." "You sure are tellin' Malvey's fortune," laughed Pete. "Kin you tell mine?" "Again you jest but I will speak. You will not kill Malvey, yet you shall find your own horse.
"But say, Boca, what made me sore was the way them hombres out there got fresh, joshin' you and askin' you to sing, jest like they had a rope on you " "You think of that Malvey?" "Well, I ain't forgittin' the way he " Boca's eyes flashed. "Yes! But here it is different. The Spider, he is my friend. It is that when I have rested and eaten he will ask me to sing. Manuelo will play the guitar.
Pete nodded. They watered their horses at the thin trickle of water in the cañon-bed and then rode slowly past a weirdly fenced field. Presently they came to a rude adobe stable and scrub-cedar corral. A few yards beyond, and hidden by the bushes, was the house. A pock-marked Mexican greeted Malvey gruffly. The Spider's name was mentioned, and Pete was introduced as his friend.
Now, mebby you could tell me which way Malvey was headed?" "He has ridden to Showdown." "So that red-headed hoss-thief fanned it right back to his boss, eh? He must 'a' thought I was fixed for good." "It is his way. Men spake truly when they called him the bull. He is big but he is as a child." "Well, there's goin' to be one mighty sick child for somebody to nurse, right soon," stated Pete.
Feel like my insides had been takin' a day off and had come back just pawin' the air to git to work." "Malvey's in town." Pete's mouth hardened, then relaxed to a grin. "Well, if he's as hungry as I am he ain't worryin' about me." "He's got your horse." "That don't worry me none." "I told Malvey to get your horse from you and set you afoot at Flores'."
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