“Not here,” he told Baldy in English. “This is no place to even scores. At this rancho, everybody is a friend. It must be that way or no one is safe.”
Baldy glowered at Guadalupe for a moment, but could see the wisdom of Guadalupe’s words.
“All right,” he growled. “I’ll catch him away from here.”
“Esta buena,” nodded Guadalupe. “But not here, compadre.”
“How’s chances to get somethin’ to eat?” asked Kohler.
Guadalupe nodded and went into the kitchen to give Lopez his orders, after which he went outside, shuffled around to the corral, where he instructed Felipe about going to Santa Isabella.
Baldy examined Hashknife’s ropes and removed the cloth from around his eyes.
“It won’t hurt yuh none to have a look now,” he grinned. “You ain’t in a place where yore eyes will do yuh much good.”
Hashknife blinked painfully, but said nothing. The bandage had been over his eyes since before he had regained consciousness, and the light hurt them.
He shut his eyes until the stinging sensation had somewhat passed, and then looked around.