He had heard enough during the trip to know who his captors were and what they had in store for him. Gonzales swaggered over in front of him and grinned widely.
“You like drink some tequila?” he asked.
Hashknife had not been long enough in the border country to know the meaning of tequila. Gonzales strode back to a table, poured a drink into a tin cup, and held it to Hashknife’s lips.
“What in hell do you want to waste good liquor for?” demanded Kohler angrily.
Hashknife gulped the big drink and thanked Gonzales with a look. Gonzales turned and scowled at Kohler.
“I pay for this tequila,” he told Kohler. “And what I pay for I use as I like, hombre.”
“Sure, sure!” interposed Baldy. “That’s all right, Gonzales.”
Gonzales drank and walked outside, where he ran into Guadalupe.
“I have just sent Felipe to Santa Isabella,” said Guadalupe.
“That is good,” agreed Gonzales. “But other things are not good. Torres stole this girl from Hawk Hole; these men are from Hawk Hole. There is bad blood between Torres and Kern. If they learn that these women are concealed here, it may not be good for us.”