"I need it tonight," he said. "At three a.m. Up by the Mint."
"Gabe," she said, "I pick pockets, not livery stables."
"Oh," he said. He seemed a bit surprised, but not very disappointed. Shrugging, he said, "I just figured you could get us anything we needed. You've been providing pretty good so far. Okay, I suppose I can go ask Roscoe."
"Wait!"
He glanced at her, one eyebrow lifted.
A wagon. She thought desperately, then gave one quick nod and said, "All right. I'll do it."
He smiled, as sunny and cheerful as the day outside. "Good girl," he said.
"A wagon," she said. "Tonight, at three."
He nodded and pointed skyward. "Up by the Mint," he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY
From the main gate of the Mint the street ran downhill two or three blocks. Then it humped up over a lower hill before it swept all the way down the steep pitch to the waterfront flats, across them and out onto the New World pier. Since the New World was en route to or from Sacramento at the moment, the pier was empty.
That little hump-actually it wasn't so little-was what bothered Gabe. Everything was downhill, except that stinking hump.
He stood near the wall of the Mint, gazing down at the hump and past it to the rooftops beyond. Gaslights illuminated the streets and the fog was a thin mist tonight. The chill was in his bones.
Roscoe-whom Gabe had positioned strategically downwind-said, "It's after three. Where the hell is she?"
"She'll be here."
"You can't trust 'em," Roscoe said.
Francis, who stood watching between Captain Flagway and Ittzy, said, "Listen."
"To what? The damn fog?"
"Shut up, Roscoe dear."
Gabe heard the slow clop of hoofs.
"That'll be her," he said.
The buckboard came in sight, pulled by a weary and bony horse. Vangie was driving it.
Gabe grinned at her. "Knew you'd do it."
Roscoe said, "Where'd you pinch the wagon?"
Francis was stepping forward as the wagon stopped, and Vangie wrapped the reins around the brake handle. "It looks familiar to me," Francis said suspiciously.
Gabe looked at it more closely. "Yeah. Me too."
Vangie climbed down. It was Captain Flagway who had presence of mind to step forward, take her elbow and help her down.
She turned and said brightly, "All right. Now you get to tell me what it's for."
"Wait a minute," Gabe growled. "You're changing the subject."
"I am?"
"Vangie."
She was all innocence. "Yes?"
"Where'd you get the wagon, Vangie."
"Why?"
"Because it looks damn familiar, like Francis says. I've seen this wagon before."
"Of course you have. You've ridden on it before."
"Yeah. That's what I thought." Gabe threw his arms up, beseeching the sky for help.
Vangie turned to Francis. "What's the matter with him?"
Francis said, "Vangie."
"Yes Francis?"
"You hired the wagon, didn't you. You rented it."
"Well…"
Gabe said, "Damn it, if I'd wanted to rent a wagon I'd've done it myself! What do you think we needed you to get a wagon for?"
"Well, you mean you actually expected me to steal a wagon right off the street?"
"Yeah. Yeah."
"But why?"
"Because there's a chance there won't be any wagon to return to the owner."
Captain Flagway looked alarmed. "Oh, my."
Roscoe gave a disgusted grunt. "Look, what's the matter with all ya? You rented the wagon from the livery stable, right?"
"Yes," Vangie said, still very confused.
"You don't figure the wagon's gonna be in one piece after we do this thing tonight, right?"
"Right," Gabe said.
"So what's the problem? We get all done, I go down and have a little talk with the hostler. I tell him the young lady parked the wagon on the street, and some no-good backstabbin' thief stole it while she wasn't lookin.' What's the problem?"
Gabe pondered it. "That might work all right. But we'll all have to make damn sure nobody sees our faces. A hundred people will probably see exactly what happens to this wagon."
"So it was whoever stole it that wrecked it, that's all," Roscoe said. "Jeez, you guys worry about the weirdest things."
Vangie turned to Gabe. "I still want to know what you're going to do with it."
"You see this hill?"
She turned and looked. Down, up, and down again. "What about it?"
"Well, we need to find out if the wagon can get up enough speed from here to get up over that hump and keep on going."
She shook her head in bafflement. "I don't understand. Don't you think the horse can pull it up over that little hill?"
"We don't want a horse."
"No horse?"
"No horse. If it'll roll past that hump on its own, it'll get up ten times the speed of any horse alive when it starts down the far side. It's the only way to outrun the guys that'll be chasing us."
"You mean you're just going to let the wagon roll by itself?" she said in awe.
"Well, Ittzy's going along to steer and handle the brakes."
"Oh," she said, and nodded slowly as though it all made perfect sense.
Gabe grinned and patted her cheek, and turned away to help the others make ready. They unhitched the horse and turned the wagon around until its tailgate wasn't far from the main gate of the Mint. The guards couldn't see what was happening from their posts, although they might hear an occasional noise. But nobody was trying to break into the Mint, so they probably wouldn't get too curious.
Ittzy got aboard and braced the wagon tongue between his knees to steer. He put one foot up against the brake handle so he could lean on it if he had to. "Okay. I'm ready."
Gabe nodded to Roscoe. The four men got behind the tailboard-and gave a mighty push.
The wagon rolled away. It picked up speed pretty quickly on the slope, and Gabe was grinning when it zipped through the bottom of the U and caromed on up toward the hump.
His grin halved when he saw the wagon slowing.
Ittzy was steering precisely up the middle of the street. It was almost half past three in the morning; there was nobody else anywhere around. But that didn't mean much now because the wagon was faltering, slowing to a speed a crippled snail could have outrun-and stopping, hesitating, pausing a long daguerreotype silent frozen pause, and then rolling back down toward the trough…
Francis looked ready to burst into tears. Gabe felt the same way. Two blocks below them the wagon pendulumed back and forth, rolling halfway up one hill, then halfway up the other, until Ittzy at last set the brake and locked it in position at the bottom of the trough.
"Damn it," Gabe said.
Roscoe said, "I think maybe you need another plan, bub."
Vangie said, "Don't give up so quickly. Good Lord, you men!
Gabe turned an unfriendly eye on her. "Yeah? What's your idea, then?"