Tom Emery nodded in silence, but jerked his thumb at Ramsay.
“Don’t worry none about him. First, get them women off. Then get busy with the irons. We’ll be until night gettin’ the remuda worked over and in good shape. Then, early in the morning, we’ll ride over to Pinecate Cañon with this inquisitive pilgrim. That fool woman is goin’ out there sometime today, to camp and see about where to build a shack. We’ll nab her and her car. —Hey, Ramsay! Where’s that rat Sagebrush?”
“Last I saw of him was out in the desert,” said Ramsay truthfully. “He didn’t fancy any acquaintance with Miss Gilman, and got right huffy over her being around.”
“So he run off, eh? Blamed if that aint old Sagebrush all over!” Sidewinder chuckled dryly. “Where’s your car?”
“At Pinecate Cañon.”
“All right.” Sidewinder eyed his three men. “Ye see, we can’t afford to take no chances. If we kill this hombre, there may be questions asked—and what’d we do with the Gilman woman? I don’t aim to murder a woman.”
“Give her to me,” suggested Ximines, with a grin.
“You go plumb to hell,” snapped Sidewinder. “I don’t guess any of us want a double murder charge follering us. So here’s the program with them two: Leave ’em in Pinecate Cañon, with some grub. They aint going to walk away from there in a hurry—”
“Hamstring him!” Ximines gave Ramsay a scowling glance.
“Good idea,” approved Sidewinder, with a nod. “Fix him so’s he can’t travel, anyhow. Then I’ll have José Garcia come over there from town and camp out to keep an eye on the two of ’em. You boys run the remuda up to Silver City, sell her, and then scatter. I’ll get sold out in Stovepipe Springs, and disappear. Three weeks ought to fix us up all around. Then Garcia can remove himself likewise. By the time Ramsay and that fool woman get out to where they can tell their story—let ’em tell it! That’s the general scheme. We can fix the details later. How’s it suit?”