"This must look like a break—surely you understand that. Don't forget to take an extra gun."
"What for? If one of the prisoners had a hidden gun, he'd take it away with him, wouldn't he?" Madrid protested.
"Palma and Bronklin have to go, too, Pete."
They walked in silence for a few yards, Madrid staring at the ground. "I guess I can do it," he said somberly. "But three of 'em!"
Mr. Jay halted suddenly and pointed at a rider who had just entered the town and was swinging into the road to Vickers' camp. "Tesno!" Madrid said.
"He's headed for the camp," Mr. Jay said. "If Willie gets out of here with his prisoners without meeting him, there's no need to change our plan."
Five minutes later, wearing a coat over his blue and white silk shirt, carrying an extra revolver in his pocket, Madrid rode quietly out of town.
Muckamuck Charlie woke to the sound of an argument below him. He lay almost completely submerged in hay. His head ached. He was feeling sick tumtum. He felt around in the hay for a bottle and found none. He asked himself where he was and what he was doing here. After a moment, he remembered he was watching a horse.
Slowly, stifling groans, he worked himself out of the hay to his hands and knees and peered over the edge of the loft. He saw with satisfaction that Palma's horse was still in its stall. Nearby, two men were arguing. One was the stableman. The other was Willie Silverknife.