He stepped down onto the balcony, held up his hand to hold the others back, and moved the plank to one side, pushing it back a few inches toward the bank, lodging the end against the masonry of the doorjamb. It gave them four extra inches and made it far less likely the plank would give way. Then, not waiting for the others, he turned to the end of the balcony and put one sock foot up on the rail.
The balconies across the back of the Inter Ocean were separated by not more than two feet; they ran the length of the second story in a series of scallops. He tested his weight to make sure the wood would not snap and creak, and climbed across to the next balcony, and so on, balcony to balcony, toward Warren Earp’s room. There was an armed sentry somewhere above him and two more down below; along these balconies he was in deep shadow-no windows were lighted at this hour; the only thing that could give him away would be noise, and he moved with extreme care, as an Apache would move.
The latch that joined Warren Earp’s balcony-doors together was easy prey to his knife blade, which slipped between the doors and lifted the catch soundlessly. He scabbarded the knife and pulled one door open with slow caution. Through the inset windows he could see the mounded shape asleep on the rumpled bed.
The sleeping man had no chance. Tree was versed in a modicum of handholds designed to silence, paralyze, even kill. By the time Warren Earp was awake enough to resist, Tree had thrust a wadded bandanna in his mouth to gag him and had pinned both hands together with a one-hand lock which expertly applied finger and thumb pressure to wrist points so sensitive that struggle produced instant agony-Warren was game but half asleep and gave up fast.
Tree murmured, “Gently, kid. I don’t want to put you out.” He tied Warren’s hands together with rawhide string and secured the gag with another length; he looked up and saw Obie Macklin’s sharp, small silhouette against the open balcony door. Macklin came inside and Tree said, “Get his clothes and take him out.”
Macklin nodded. “Meet you back there. You handle the rest with Mordecai?”
“Yeah. On the move, now.” Tree slipped past him and went out onto the balcony. Gant was there waiting, his big feet like paddles in dark socks. Tree stepped across the space to the big suite’s long balcony, gun in hand, looking down; neither of the sentries below him was looking up when he made the crossing.
When Gant came across and there was no outcry, Tree took a deep breath. Gant was looking at him with a glance of strain and anxiety. This one wouldn’t be so easy.
Tree was halfway to the bed when something, maybe the legendary eyes in the back of his head, brought Wyatt Earp awake. Tree saw the tiny flicker against the eyeball and knew Earp was awake and watching him-and then, with speed startling in so big a man, Earp’s naked body was hurtling toward the chair where his guns hung.
Tree came at him on the run, cracking the sliphammer gun down with full force against Earp’s extended forearm. He could tell from the sound that he hadn’t broken any bones but it numbed Earp, probably clear to the shoulder, and the arm dropped limp, flapping, and when Earp tried to use the other arm Mordecai Gant had reached the bed and Gant’s sharp, whispered words reached starkly across the dimness:
“I’ll kill her.”
It made Earp hesitate long enough to look past Tree at Gant. The blade of Gant’s knife rested against Josie Earp’s throat, silver edge glittering against the pale skin. Josie was awake, swallowing in spasms. In the minimal light Gant’s greasy, heavy face looked hooded and satanic.
Gant whispered sibilantly, “You make one more move, friend Arp, or just speak one word loud, and she’s dead. Hear?”
Mute, barely concealing his tremendous rage, Wyatt Earp nodded his head once. He straightened up and contented himself with a glare straight against Tree’s eyes. Tree thought, If looks could kill. He took care when he tied Earp’s big hands and fitted the gag into his mouth. Gant trussed Josie, stopped her mouth with a tied bandanna, and went around the room on padding feet to gather up clothes and boots. He wadded them all into a pillowcase, stuck it under his arm and prodded the girl to her feet. Wyatt Earp was stark naked. Josie wore a robe which Gant allowed her to don: Gant’s eyes eyed her body hungrily before she put it on, and Tree noted that Gant’s lustful attention didn’t escape Wyatt Earp’s silent notice: Earp was. chalking it up.
It couldn’t be helped. Tree said to Earp, “Just do what you’re told. You know what I want. Nobody gets hurt unless you force it.” He spoke soft against Earp’s ear.
Gant went out first, tugging Josie by the arm. Tree glanced at her briefly. She was looking back at Wyatt. Tree caught on her dimly lighted features, in that briefest unguarded instant, a look of savage satisfaction. It was gone so swiftly he might have imagined it; but the thought grenaded into his mind that she was happy about this. He had seen it before in other women. It irritated a woman to see her man having too much success, having things go too much his own way; it made her uneasy, unsure of her hold over him.
It was no time to be thinking of abstractions. He prodded Wyatt Earp ahead of him and they went out onto the balcony. He kept his distance: Earp was a man of enormous physical power and there was no telling what rage might tempt him into. Tree felt a momentary regret, as he might have felt if he had been trapping a magnificent wild animal.
Tree was the last of the four in the slow, tense procession across the balconies. Progress was slow: Josie was agile enough but the flowing robe hampered her climbing. Finally Gant picked her up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of meal.
There was a moment that formed an almost comical picture: Wyatt Earp climbing across the balconies, jaybird naked, his private parts wobbling as he spread his legs across the gap.
Tree had both guns fisted and ready to go to war but his plan had been conceived with care and it worked. There was no alarm. Gant crawled up across the plank first and then turned and held his gun in plain sight. Josie went across, reluctant and trembling with anger but boosted by a calm nod from Wyatt Earp, who went across after her. Tree crossed last. With Gant’s help he hauled in the plank. They left it there on the bank roof and walked across the building, Tree walking backwards with his guns up, seeking the rooftop sentry. The man came in sight but was looking the other way. Gant jumped down to the fire-stair landing and stood ready to receive Josie. Tree said, “Help her down,” and caught Wyatt Earp’s stinging white-hot glance of malice before Gant took the girl by the wrists and lowered her off the roof. Tree jumped down behind Earp and saw Josie look at her naked husband and giggle through the gag. She had nerve, that one. They went down the stairs and Gant led the way, after scouting the dark street, across into the opposite alley and up the block as far as the back corral of the livery stable. The corral gate was open; the only animals inside were tethered-seven saddled horses. Caroline stood among them.
When Caroline saw Wyatt Earp naked her eyebrows went up and she grinned brashly.
Tree took the pillowcase from Gant and handed it to Earp and said, “Both of you get some clothes on.”