«No point to settin’ up here on a rock when we could be layin’ back there in grass,» Bandanna Mike grumbled. «They cain’t git out without walkin’ plumb through our camp, and even a skunk-drunk mestizo couldn’t miss ’em then.»

«Talk Slater,» Short Dog said.

«Might as well shoot myself and git it over with as talk to him,» grumbled Bandanna Mike.

«Shoot and Slater come hell-running you bet,» Short Dog said. «End same Walleye Jack.»

«Jericho had no call to shoot old Walleye. He was just funnin’ with that snake.»

«All same, Walleye Jack dead meat you bet. Snake same.»

«Jericho is a mean ’un,» Bandanna Mike agreed.

It was quiet for a few minutes. Then came the sound of a cork being pulled from a bottle. The satisfied gasping and coughing sounds that followed told Reno that it wasn’t water or coffee being passed around.

«What do you think happened to Crooked Bear?» Bandanna Mike asked.

Short Dog belched. «Dead or gone see squaw. Same thing.»

«Damn, but the thought of gold gets a feller to itchin’,» Bandanna Mike said after a moment. «Think they got it yet?»

«No leave yet. No gold yet,» Short Dog said succinctly.

For a time there was only silence and the sound of the restless wind. A horse snorted and stamped its foot.

Reno waited, motionless.

«You think that there Reno feller is as good with a six-gun as they say?»

«Goddamn straight fast hell-shooter you bet,» Short Dog said emphatically.

Silently Reno wished that he had shot just a bit straighter when he had had Short Dog in his sights. It would have meant one less Comanchero to deal with now.

On the other hand, there was never any lack of lazy, greedy, or cruel men to fatten the ranks of gangs led by men like Jericho Slater.

«What about thet gal? Did you see her? Is she a pretty ’un?»

«Squaw all same. Hell bad you bet.»

Bandanna Mike laughed. «Hell bad is goin’ without. Hope I’m one of the first. Ain’t no fun if’n there ain’t no vinegar left in a gal.»

There was another silence, another round of coughing and gasping as the men took a pull on the bottle, and then more silence.

«Acey-deucey?» Bandanna Mike asked.

Short Dog grunted.

The sound of cards being shuffled carried in the stillness.

Reno waited with the patience of a man whose life depended on it — and while he waited, he wished again that he had Caleb’s ability to move over terrain without making a sound. He would have given a great deal to slide up and cut Bandanna Mike’s dirty throat.

For an hour Reno listened to the two outlaws argue over cards. Then he withdrew slowly, using the fitful wind to cover any sounds he might make.

When Reno got back to camp, he circled around and came in from the back. Eve was waiting with the shotgun leveled and both barrels loaded. As soon as she saw him, she set down the gun and ran to him. He wrapped her up in his arms and held on hard. When he finally released her, she watched him with eyes that read him too well.

«Slater,» Eve said.

It wasn’t a question.

«Slater,» Reno confirmed. «He’s got two men guarding that little marshy meadow just below this one. The rest of his men are camped in the big meadow further down.»

«What are we going to do?»

«Hunt for gold, sugar girl.»

«And then?»

Reno smiled coldly. «Then I’m going to teach those boys about black powder.»

And pray very hard that Cal, Wolfe, or Rafe is on the way.

EVE waited at the point where the coyote hole came into the main tunnel. Reno’s work yesterday had widened the hole enough that he could squeeze through. It wasn’t comfortable, but it got the job done; it took him to the place where sixteen ingots had been buried centuries before.

The sound of Reno crawling closer reassured Eve, but she still wanted to hear his voice. She flattened out on the floor of the tunnel and called out.

«Reno? Is everything all right? I thought I heard something fall.»

His answer came quickly, distorted by the curves of the wormhole he was crawling through.

«Just me pushing junk out of the way,» he said.

It was half the truth, but it was the only half Reno planned to tell Eve. The middle of the old tunnel was unstable as hell. Widening the coyote hole had triggered two small slides. Loose rock was still raining down. A real slide could come at any moment. The longer he spent in either tunnel or coyote hole, the greater the danger was.

But Reno knew if he told Eve, she would insist on helping him get the gold out. He didn’t want her anywhere near the crumbling tunnels.

In fact, he hadn’t wanted her anywhere near any part of the mine this time, but she had gone mulestubborn on him. In the end he had agreed that she could come into the mine, but only as far as the solid rock of the main tunnel went. After that, she was to stay put.

«Stand back,» Reno said. Then he added wryly, knowing that standing wasn’t possible, «Crawl out of the way, gata. I’m coming through.»

Eve pushed away from the opening that still looked too small to admit Reno’s broad shoulders. As she watched, two gold ingots appeared. They gleamed in the lantern light as though freshly poured.

With a muscular twist of his body, Reno emerged from the small opening. His face was streaked with sweat and grit. So were his clothes. His weapons were clean, however. He had stacked them to one side of the coyote hole before he crawled in.

Reno picked up a heavy ingot in each hand and placed them with the others he had retrieved.

«Sixteen down and two to go,» Reno said, stretching.

«Let me get th —»

«No.»

Reno heard the flat rejection in his voice and prayed Eve didn’t hear the fear for her safety that lay just beneath it. He forced himself to smile as he tilted her face up for a quick, hard kiss.

«I’ll be back before you know it, with a gold bar in each hand.»

Eve wanted to argue even though she knew it would be futile. Instead, she made herself smile as she brushed her fingertips over his lips.

«Hurry back, sugar man,» she whispered.

After Reno disappeared back into the coyote hole, Eve crouched by the black opening and prayed.

She was still praying when she heard a rumbling, grinding sound. A burst of air gusted out from the mouth of the coyote hole, bringing with it a cloud of grit and the sound of rock rushing down.

The coyote hole had collapsed.

«Reno!» Eve yelled. «Reno!»

Nothing came back to her but the gnashing sounds of rocks as they found a new place to lie.

When Eve looked into the coyote hole, there was no gleam of light from Reno’s lantern. Frantically she grabbed her own lantern and crawled into the narrow tunnel, pushing the light in front of her. There was so much dust hanging in the air that the light looked as though it had been wrapped in gauze.

Within seconds Eve was coughing and choking from the swirling dust. She yanked her bandanna up and wriggled forward as fast as she could, ignoring the rocks that scraped and bruised her body.

With every breath Eve took, she called Reno’s name. No answer came but the raw echoes of her own screams.

The lantern hit something and refused to budge. Crying, calling for Reno, Eve battered blindly at the unexpected obstacle. Finally she realized what was wrong. Where the coyote hole should have emerged into the older, wider tunnel, the ceiling had given way. Now there was nothing but a wall of debris.

Eve clawed at the loose rubble, pushing it away down both sides of her body. For every handful she removed, two more took its place.

«Reno.»

There was no sound in the tunnel but that of her own broken sobs.

It was the same an hour later, when Eve finally realized that she didn’t have the strength to dig through the cave-in alone.

DIRTY, disheveled, wild-eyed, Eve crept past the point where Reno had said Slater’s guards were posted. Though twice she sent pebbles rolling, no man called out or came after her. She hardly noticed her good luck. She was intent on what had to be done, bribing Jericho Slater with a combination of gold ingots and lead bullets.

They want the gold, they can have it. But first they have to dig Reno free.

And I’ll be standing over them with a loaded shotgun every inch of the way.

A small corner of Eve’s mind knew that her plan was so foolish as to be suicidal. The rest of her mind just flat didn’t care. She wasn’t strong enough to dig Reno out of the mountain. Slater’s gang was.

So she would go to Slater, and let the devil take the hindmost.

Eve went through the marshy area like a gritty wraith. Her once white shirt was the gray-black color of the rocks. So were her pants. So was everything else but the guns she carried. She had wiped them down with a care Reno had taught her. The weapons were clean, fully loaded, and ready to fire.

The second cascade was bordered by forest and brush. Silence was impossible, but that didn’t matter; the water was making enough noise to drown out a mustang stampede. Automatically Eve shifted the shotgun and bandolier so they wouldn’t catch on the shrubs and trees that reached out to snag her.

Just before the cascade spread out across the boulder-strewn mouth of the larger valley, the water took one final leap over a slate ledge. Eve wriggled out on the rock to get a look at the camp. She had already decided that Jericho Slater was the first prisoner she should take. It was just a matter of finding out where he was.

A quick look over the ledge told Eve she was lucky not to be a prisoner herself. Slater’s gang was camped about a hundred feet from the waterfall, back in a thick grove of evergreens. Horses were picketed around the meadow. A quick count gave her a total of twenty.