"Liquor's as good as laudanum for putting a man to sleep," Longarm said. "It just don't work as fast. I'm beginning to get me an idea. See if you can dig a bottle of Maryland rye outa there, Flo. I need something to stir up my brains while I scheme."
Flo rummaged and came up with the bottle Longarm had requested. A corkscrew hung on a nail inside the cabinet door. She used it expertly and passed him the bottle. He lilted it and let the warm, nippy whiskey slide down his throat. Immediately, he wished for a cheroot to follow, but reminded himself he'd better be grateful just for the bottle.
"Don't you offer ladies a drink in the crowd you travel with?" she asked. He extended the bottle to her and she took a swallow. Her eyes watered. "God! That's a man's drink!" she exclaimed. "I guess I'd better stick to something mild, brandy or Scotch."
"We better leave it alone for now," he cautioned. "I got the start of a scheme worked out. I'm going to have to ask you to help me some, if you don't object."
"Object! Listen, you tell me what you want me to do. There's not much I'd balk at, if it'll get me out of this place and on a train back to Broadway again."
"Well, what you'd do ain't much. Pay attention now, and I'll tell you what I got figured."
Longarm outlined his plan. Flo listened attentively, nodding now and then, as he explained what she'd have to do. When he'd finished she chuckled throatily.
"My God, you've missed your calling, Marshal! Belasco'd pay you a fortune to write plays for the Lyceum. That's a real fine scene you've worked up, and I'll do my best to ad lib it. Don't worry, I won't blow my lines. Most of the shows I play in are half off the cuff. I'll play it to the hilt!"
"It's both our necks if you mess it up," he warned her. "All right. You go get on a wrap. I'll see if I can rummage out some bags or bottles from the kitchen."
Longarm searched until he found a big, sturdy basket and two burlap bags. He filled them with bottles from the liquor cabinet, choosing the strongest spirits: tequila, habanero, rum, hundred-proof bourbon. Flo came from the bedroom in time to help him. Together they carried the basket and bags to the door of the sala, and put them down just inside the room. Longarm looked at Flo. She'd put on a negligee over her nightdress. The effect, he thought, was just right.
"Glad you like it," she said when he told her this. "I was lucky enough to hold on to my dressing case when I jumped off the train. This night stuff and a suit is all I've got to wear."
"Remember, now, don't overdo things," he cautioned her. "Let Sergeant Molina look, but don't let him get near enough to grab you. Just be sure he'll come back, is all."
"Don't worry. I've had more experience dodging stage-door Johnnies than you know about. They only catch me when I want 'em to. Well, if we're ready, let's ring up the curtain on act one."
"Might as well. Get going."
Flo went out the front door. Longarm followed a step behind her, and when she continued toward the barracks he stopped in the deep darkness at the corner of the building. He'd brought his Winchester to cover her, if trouble developed. If there's a ruckus, he thought, the damn scheme's ruined before it gets started good.
A dozen paces from the barracks, Flo stopped. She called, "Sergeant Molina! Captain Ramos wants you! Right away!"
Longarm had chosen Molina as his target not only because he was Ramos's second in command, but because the sergeant was the only rurale he was sure understood enough English to make the plan work. He waited while the men still seated around the fire scurried to look for Molina. Just before Longarm was beginning to think he'd come up with a bad idea, the sergeant came around the corner of the barracks building. He peered at Flo, who was still standing where she'd stopped.
"What does mi capitan want?" Molina called.
"He has a reward for you and his brave men," Flo called back. "He wants you to come and get it."
She turned at once, without waiting to see whether Molina would follow her. The sergeant hesitated only a moment before doing so. Longarm slipped through the darkness along the wall to the headquarters door and slid inside before Molina got close enough to see him. He crossed the sala and went into the closet, leaving the door ajar and swapping his Winchester for his Colt. Straining his ears, he could hear Flo open the door and come into the sala. There was a moment of silence before Molina spoke.
"Where he is, mi capitan?"
"In the bedroom," Flo replied. "He doesn't want to be disturbed. He told me what he wants you to do."
"Que es? " Molina sounded suspicious. "Why is the capitan not here himself?"
"He's resting," Flo replied. She dropped her voice to a low, confidential tone that to the listening Longarm seemed dripping with honey. "I'll tell you the truth, Sergeant. The captain's a little bit, well — a little bit drunk."
"Ah. Un poco borracho." Now, Molina's voice held the verbal equivalent to a shrug. "So. What he is want me to do?"
"Look here." Another silence; this time, Longarm visualized Flo showing Molina the liquor. "Captain Ramos says you and the men have earned a reward, a treat. He wants you to share the bottles with the men."
"Sangre de mi vida! Que admirable!" Molina chuckled. "I should go thank mi capitan for his gift, no?"
"No. I — he's asleep." She sighed. "And I'm all by myself."
After a long pause, Molina took the bait. "You are lonely, senorita?"
"I had expected Captain Ramos~" She sighed again, more deeply. "You know what is said about men who drink too much, Sergeant."
"Ay, si!" Then, philosophically, "It can happen to any man, senorita. Tomorrow, the capitan will be himself again."
"But that doesn't help me tonight," Flo said seductively. "Now, if there was only some big, fine man~"
Longarm thought she was overdoing her act a bit. He risked peering around the closet door, saw that Flo had let her negligee fall open and that Molina's eyes were fixed on her body.
"You would like me to return, no?" Molina whispered. "After I take the bottles to the men? But what would mi capitan say?"
"He's sleeping so deeply, he'd never know."
"Ay, las rubias!" Molina chuckled. "Todavia buscanda un hombre!" He chuckled again. "What mi capitan don' know won't hurt us, you and me? No? Pues, I take the bottles quick, and come right back."
"Hurry, then!" Flo urged. "I'll be waiting for you!"
Not only was Flo waiting for Molina when he came back. Longarm was, too. The sergeant rushed eagerly through the door into the sala. Flo had stationed herself a few feet inside, and Molina saw only her. Longarm stepped from behind the door and shoved his Colt hard against Molina's bare neck.
"Stop right where you are, hombre, and keep quiet, or you're dead."
Molina was as startled as Ramos had been. "El gringo federalista! Why you not in jail?"
"I reckon because I busted out," Longarm said. "Take his gunbelt off, Flo. Then we'll put him in with Ramos."
While Flo was relieving Molina of his pistol belt, he asked, "Mi capitan, he is not borracho?"
"No, but I'll just bet he wishes he was," she told him.
"Rubia perfidia!" Molina snorted. "You and the gringo cabron have plan this!"
"You finally figured that out, did you?" Longarm grinned. To Flo, he said, "Come on, we'll put him in where him and his boss can look at each other."
There was plenty of material left in the bedsheet Flo had torn up when Ramos was being bound to provide strips with which to tie Molina to another chair. Longarm kept his gun trained on the sergeant while Flo gagged and tied him. Ramos and Molina sat facing one another, glaring angrily across the few feet that separated them. It was obvious that each would try to blame the other for their plight.