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hand he grasped a large metal flask. He buckled the belt around his waist, checked the cylinders in his revolvers, then took a pull from the flask before holding it out to Juan.
    “Now I’m awake,” he gasped, wiping his chin. “Want some?”
    “No, señor ,” Juan said.
    “You?” He offered the flask to Matt.
    “No, thanks. I hope you can save the rest of that for later. We need to stay alert.”
    “Alright, alright,” Tom said, tucking the flask into his back pocket.
    “How far is it to Janey’s?” Matt asked.
    “Couple minutes walk.” Tom went to the window and flicked the curtain aside. “Sun’s just going down. We should hustle.”
    The men left the inn through the back door and paused for a moment. The center of town was pretty much deserted. A cool breeze blew across the open courtyard. Tom cracked his neck, stepped out into the square, and looked around.
    “It’s this way,” he said. “Stay close. I’ll bring us up across the street from her place. We can watch the front door from the side of a warehouse there.”
    They reached the warehouse a few minutes later. Janey lived in a large boarding house outside the town square. All of the windows were dark, but one.
    “That one is Janey’s,” Tom said, pressing himself against the side of the warehouse. “I’ll say one thing for her; she always leaves the light on for you.” He chuckled softly to himself.
    “Fancy Jim should be coming around any moment then,” Matt said. “Juan, run across to the corner of the boarding house there and stay out of sight. Tom, I’m going around the other side of the warehouse. When you see Jim, give a whistle. We’ll count to ten and rush him before he makes the door.”
    Juan looked down the street in both directions and dashed across to the boarding house.
    “Done this a few times, have you?” Tom asked. Matt looked at him and said nothing. “Works for me,” the outlaw said.
    Matt loosened his guns in their holsters and disappeared around the back corner of the building. No sooner than had he posted himself at the other end of the warehouse he heard the soft crunching of boots on pebbles. The dim moonlight showed a tall man walking down the gravel path toward the boarding house, slouched over a bit, with his hat low over his face.
    A bird whistled in the night, and Matt counted silently to ten.
    “Reach for the sky, Fancy Jim,” Matt said, running up behind the man. Fancy Jim put his hands up and turned around slowly. He had long blonde hair and his face was smooth and hairless. His clothes were neat and clean, and he wore one gun in a soft suede holster at his left hip.
    “Who the Hell are you?” the dandy asked. “You’d better have fast hands, fast feet or both, I’ll tell you that right now.”
    “I’m quick enough to have lasted this long, fella, but I’m not really worried. I don’t want a fight. Anyhow, my partner’s a few feet away with a gun pointed at your head.”
    “Bullshit.” Fancy Jim turned around. Juan stood at the corner of the boarding house, revolver held at waist level.
    “Here’s the score,” Black Tom said, strolling out from the far side of the warehouse, guns drawn. “You take us to Lee, and maybe we don’t kill you.”
    “You!” Fancy Jim’s hands twitched south, and Matt put a hand out.
    “I wouldn’t do that, son.” Jim sighed and raised his hands back into the air. “Juan, take his gun.” Juan eased forward and plucked Fancy Jim’s gun from its holster.
    “Now, then,” Matt said. “Do we have an understanding, Mister Davis?”
    The dandy nodded. “Follow me.” He turned around and headed back down the way he had come. Matt and Juan pulled alongside either side of him, and Tom walked a few paces behind.
    “No funny business,” Tom said as they passed out of Mesilla proper and into the barren, hill-speckled desert. “I think I know where you guys are holed up, now, so you’re pretty much worthless if you make any trouble.”
    “Not making