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who we’re lookin’ for, now,” Dodge said, slapping Manuel on the back.

    Dodge came down with a bad cold for three days that kept him out of the saddle. Manuel and Clint left him camped alone and continued to search for some sign of Jack Dowd. Manuel was still checking with the friendly Yaquis, and eventually came up with another vital piece of information. He and Clint rode back to where they’d left Dodge and found him doing much better.
    â€œDamn cold had settled in my chest and I couldn’t breathe,” Dodge said, “but I’m okay, now.” He handed them each a cup of coffee. “What’d you find out?”
    â€œThere is a mine about fifteen miles from here,” Manuel said.
    â€œIt’s owned by Mexicans, and there are about twenty-five or thirty peons working there,” Clint said. “Manuel’s friend said they’ve seen a gringo come in there for supplies a couple of times. The description matches Dowd.”
    â€œSo he’s still in these mountains,” Dodge said. “Good. Manuel, we’re headin’ for that mine.”

THIRTEEN
    They stopped outside the mine, which turned out to be more like a small town than a mine.
    â€œManuel,” Dodge said, “Clint and me’ll wait up here while you go down and talk to your friend. See if you can find out where Dowd is. If not that, when he might be coming back. And find a place where we can hide.”
    â€œSí, señor.”
    Manuel rode down into the small town that had been built up around the mine.
    â€œIf Dowd is holing up somewhere in these mountains then he’s comin’ here for supplies,” Dodge said. “If Manuel can find a place for us to hide out, we can wait for him to come in and then grab him.”
    â€œUnless these people are helping him,” Clint said.
    â€œIf they are it’s probably because he’s payin’ them,” Dodge said.
    â€œThat’s a strong motive,” Clint said.
    â€œWe’re the law,” Dodge said.
    â€œWell, you are,” Clint said.
    â€œI am, and they’ll do what’s right.”
    â€œI hope you’re right, Fred.”
    â€œRelax,” Dodge said. “Manuel won’t be back for a while.”
    They made a cold camp and ate beef jerky while they waited.
    Â 
    Manuel returned within half an hour.
    â€œHe is staying somewhere in the mountains,” Manuel said. “He has been here two times for supplies.”
    â€œWhen will he be coming back?” Dodge asked.
    â€œTwo or three days, my friend figures.”
    â€œOkay,” Dodge said. “Does he have a place for us to wait?”
    â€œSí, señor. We may wait, and he will feed us.”
    Dodge looked at Clint. “Sounds good to me,” he said.
    â€œMe, too,” Clint said. “I could use some hot food.”
    â€œThey have everythin’ we need here, señor,” Manuel said. “Food, whiskey . . . and the wimmins.”
    â€œLike I said,” Clint replied. “This sounds like a place we could sit and wait in comfort.”
    â€œLet’s go, Manuel,” Dodge said.
    â€œSí, señor,” Manuel said. “They are cookin’ the food for us now.”
    They mounted up and rode into town.

FOURTEEN
    Manuel had been telling the truth about “the wimmins.” There were thirty men working the mines. The rest of the men and women ran the town, and saw to the needs of their guests—paying guests.
    But because Manuel was friends with one of them, he, Dodge, and Clint were catered to for free.
    â€œI told you,” Dodge said. “Once they saw I was the law they would go along with us.”
    They were sitting at a table in the house of Manuel’s friend, eating enchiladas and beans for supper, and drinking whiskey. There was no beer available.
    â€œThey’re helping us because of Manuel,” Clint said, “not you.”
    â€œWhat does it