Ironhorse

10

Virgil was without a doubt listening to Emma, but his attention had turned toward the rear of the coach. He moved from Abigail’s clutch and positioned himself square-shouldered, looking at something I had not seen. He took a few steps and stopped. Then he raised his Colt with his arm extended out straight in front of him.

“Dean,” Virgil said. “Get up. Real easy. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

I leaned to the side for a clear look around Virgil, and sitting in the second-to-last row was a lanky gun hand named Dean. Virgil knocked out his tooth years ago on top of the rocky rim above Appaloosa when Dean was riding lookout for Bragg.

“I got my pistola in the side of this here lady’s corsetta,” Dean said. “You take one step closer and I’ll ruin it.”

“Why?” Virgil asked.

“What do you mean, why?” Dean said.

“I’ll kill you if you do,” Virgil said. “So why?”

Dean’s eyes moved from side to side.

“Let me tell you how this will go down, Dean,” Virgil said. “You drop your pistola in the aisle there, stand up with your hands where I can see them. Do like I say.”

Dean didn’t move.

Virgil pulled back the hammer on his Colt. A few of the passengers gasped.

“Okay!” Dean said. “Okay!”

Dean held his pistola out into the aisle and dropped it. He stood up with his hands in the air, stepped into the aisle, and faced Virgil.

“Take a few steps back,” Virgil said.

“What?”

“Right now,” Virgil said.

Virgil was using Dean to block the door. Dean took a few steps and his back was to the door.

“Good,” Virgil said. “What are you and the others doing down here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that.”

“Um... just travelin’ the train.”

“Don’t test me, Dean.”

Dean swallowed hard.

“Vince the boss?” Virgil pressed.

Dean looked at Virgil and frowned a bit.

“Is he?”

“He... he is,” Dean said.

“This his idea?”

“It is.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Um, we was to ride down to Paris, Texas, and get on this train and...”

“And what?”

Dean was sweating. He swayed his head from side to side.

“Rob it.”

“Why this train?”

“Vince said because of the land run happening in the Indian Territory that there would be a lot of people on the train going that direction with money.”

Virgil moved a little closer to Dean and stopped.

“What else?” Virgil said.

“Um... well, we did that. We got on back in Paris. We was gonna gather folks’ belongings, then get off and meet our horses right back there, but you and Hitch done changed all that.”

“Lot of horses,” Virgil said. “Your fellow thieves from Bragg’s gang?”

“For the most part.”

“How many are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Twenty-one?” Virgil said. “Why so many?”

“Don’t know,” Dean said. “Big train.”

“Including the rider,” I said. “We killed nine.”

“That’d leave eleven,” Virgil said.

“It would,” I said.

Dean looked at Virgil and closed one eye.

“Counting me,” Dean said. “That’d be twelve.”

“We ain’t counting you,” Virgil said.