"Listen, Marshal Long," Lefty pleaded, "I didn't know anything to tell that rurale, and I didn't make nothin' up. You got to give me a hand!"
"I don't figure I owe you one damn thing, Lefty. Now, I might feel different, if you remember anything you forgot so far."
A rattling of the jailhouse lock put an end to their conversation. All four men fell silent when Sebastian appeared. He had a small pot in each hand. The jailer set the pots on the dirt floor outside the cell where Longarm, Webster, and Hill were confined, then went outside and brought in a cloth-wrapped bundle and a steaming coffeepot.
"Su comida, gringos, " the jailer announced. "Dame treintecinco centavos, si quieren comer. "
Being careful not to let Sebastian see that he had other coins in his pocket, Longarm dug out the thirty-five cents and passed the money through the bars. Sebastian unlocked the cell door, opened it just wide enough to slide the food inside, and locked it again. He'd already started to leave when Lefty called to him.
"Hey, amigo! Donde es mi comida?"
"Tienes dinero?" Sebastian asked.
"No. Esta cosa tu conoces. "
"Pues, no dinero, no comida. "
"Try trading your boots," Longarm suggested. He felt a small twinge of conscience, but smothered it. If Lefty knew anything more, there was only one way to get it out of him. He went on, "My friends in here swapped their clothes to get fed. You're no better'n they are. Your clothes ain't much more'n rags, but maybe you can get him to swap you a meal or two for your boots."
Pressed up to the bars, the cellmates watched while Lefty dickered with the jailer. Where cash wasn't offered, Sebastian proved to be a very tough bargainer. He and Lefty argued for a good quarter-hour before they came to terms. The deputy passed one of his boots through the bars. Sebastian went out and brought back a battered tin plate on which red beans swam in a redder sea of chili con carne. A small stack of tortillas lay on top of the mixture. Lefty grabbed the plate and started eating. Longarm and his companions ate their own meal, taking turns scooping food from the pots with strips of tortilla.
They all finished at about the same time. Longarm called across the corridor, "Well, you got fed tonight, Lefty."
"Yeah." The deputy's voice was surly. "No thanks to you."
"I said I'd make you a deal. You better think about how long you're going to eat on that one boot you got left. All you got to do is tell me everything you know about the deals your boss is into, and I'll see you keep eating, such as it is."
"What good would it do me? Ain't neither one of us likely to walk outa this trap we're in."
"Maybe. While I'm still alive and kicking, I got a job I'm paid to do, and I aim to go on doing it. The way I see it, a man's good as long as he's alive, but he can't stay that way if he don't eat. What're you going to do when you've ate up your other boot?"
"Damn you! You really know how to squeeze a man when he's down!"
"You just don't know how hard I can squeeze, when I got a mind to. Well, I offered you the deal. If you don't see fit to take it, that's your loss."
"Now, don't be in such a hurry~" Lefty started.
Longarm cut him short. "I got to be in a hurry. I don't aim to stay here, Lefty. Right now, I don't owe you nothing. If that was to change, I might see a way to help you go along when me and my friends go outa here."
"You're bluffing me. You got no more chance of walking outa this place than I do."
"You go on and think that, if you've a mind to. And you think how quick I changed a few things in Los Perros. And you think about that when your belly gets empty again."
There was a long silence from the other cell. Finally, Lefty said grudgingly, "All right. You win. I'll talk."
Chapter 13
Lefty talked for more than an hour. The beating he'd gotten from Ramos's rurales had battered his body and spirit and weakened his will enough for Longarm to break it, but his instinct for survival was still strong. Parts of his rambling confession only repeated what he'd told Longarm earlier, though he did reveal a few new details about the murders of the 10th Cavalry troopers and the operations of the rustling ring that ran the Laredo Loop.
There was a small amount of new information concerning the activities of Sheriff Tucker: frame-ups of enemies, beatings, and other intimidations of Los Perros inhabitants perpetrated for money or for extorting free labor or participation in criminal activities of minor sorts. Little of this was much of a surprise to Longarm, who'd seen towns or counties taken over by crooks of Tucker's stripe in other areas. One of Lefty's admissions was news, though.
"You think you're so damn smart," he said to Longarm. "You got Ed Tucker tagged as the boss of Los Perros. Shit, you ain't even come close to guessin' who the real boss is."
"Well, then, suppose you tell me," Longarm suggested.
"It's Miles Baskin, that's who. He's the real brains behind just about everything that goes on there."
"Baskin? The saloonkeeper?" Longarm was genuinely surprised. Baskin, the one time he'd talked with the man, had left an impression of being a mild, inoffensive type of man, one who'd walk around trouble instead of into it. At the same time, the revelation settled a nagging question that had been in the back of Longarm's mind. From the very beginning of his prodding in Los Perros, he'd been wondering how Tucker could appear so smart at times and so stupid at others. He asked, "You and the other deputies ever get your orders direct from Baskin?"
"No. Not unless it was some little thing, like we was doin' him a favor. He liked to work through Ed."
"Did Baskin lean more toward one of you than the others? Did he like you or Spud or Ralston best?"
"Well~" Lefty hesitated. "Spud, maybe. But just a little bit. He was pretty careful not to set one of us up above the others."
"Lefty," Longarm said solemnly, "you better not be lying to me, or trying to save your skin, or Tucker's. Because if you are, I'll sure as hell find it out."
"Honest to God, Marshal, it's the truth," Lefty insisted. "It was Baskin that give Ed most of his ideas about how to make money outa Los Perros after Ed begun to take over the town. And this new Laredo Loop business, it was mostly his idea, too."
"All right. If it's the truth, I'll dig up evidence to back up what you've said."
"I reckon you can at that. Only one hell of a lot of evidence has got buried in them quicksand sinkholes along the river shallows. "
"There'll be more," Longarm promised. "And it'll come out. I'd say you've earned your grub, Lefty. You'll eat along with the rest of us. Hell, I might even buy your boot back from Sebastian, if I can get Nate to do the jawbone work for me."
"Be glad to," the Ranger said. "Aside from one thing that's kept bothering me, I've been right interested in hearing what that hombre across the way's been telling you."
"That's bothering you?"
"Well, it appears to me like Lefty was right a minute ago. He said he didn't see it'd do any good if he did tell you everything he knew, long as we're all in this place together."
"Nate's got a point," Captain Hill agreed. "He and I have done a lot of talking about how to break out of here, but it's always looked to us like a case of out of the frying pan, into the fire.
There're twenty-five or thirty rurales outside, with pistols and rifles. All we have is our fists. That's not good odds."
"Let's jaw about that later on," Longarm suggested. "I didn't get a wink of sleep last night, and I rode pretty hard most of today, until the rurales shanghaied me here. I don't know about the rest of you, but I aim to curl up and get some shut-eye. Tomorrow, we'll see what we can work out."