“Go out and see what he wants. Then kill him and tell me what he said.”

She was up early and found the camp active. They were about ready to move out when an excited guard rushed into the tent. Gold Hat and the clown man were sitting at a desk when he interrupted them. “A man, Maestro.” He pointed excitedly toward the south.

“What man?”

“He looks to be an Americano. He is sitting on a rock with a white flag. He wants to parley.”

Gold Hat grunted. “Go out and see what he wants. Then kill him and tell me what he said.”

Two riders approached the man, who was wearing a fine ditto suit and sitting at a small table. The men rode up quickly and looked down at him from atop their horses.

Dan George stated his business. He motioned to a small chest beside him and told them he’d speak only to Gold Hat. The first bandit pulled his six shooter but before he could point it at Dan, the man’s head came apart, splattering brain onto his colleague’s lap. The other bandit looked on, dumbfounded.

“You tell Gold Hat I have enough money to make him richer than he’s ever been in his life, but I’ll only talk to him. If anyone tries to do me any injury,” he looked down at the corpse, “that’ll happen to them.”

The bandit wheeled his horse and galloped back to camp. In short order, Sombero del Oro and the clown man slowly rode up.

Gold Hat dismounted casually. He looked down at the corpse and stepped over it. He didn’t bother looking out at the mesa for the shooter. He looked at Dan George indifferently.

“What’s your business, Indian?”

“Rebecca Walsh.”

“Don’t know such a thing as this.”

“The pretty girl with black hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a blue dress when you took her.”

“So, what’s your business, Indian?”

“In this chest is thirty thousand dollars.” He gestured for the clown man to look. He did and pulled out several stacks of notes, held together with paper bands.

“Paper money means nothing to me, Indian. Words mean nothing to me. Gold coins and good human flesh mean something to me.”

“This is good US currency and it is only one quarter of what we will pay for the child.”

“And where is the rest of this great fortune?”

“In notes. I have the power to release the balance to you, to be redeemed at the nearest bank of your choosing.”

“What is this, redeemed?”

“Made good.” Dan George was surprised at the man’s ignorance. He thought that at least Gold Hat had to be an intelligent man to evade the law for so many years. He was just another stupid bandit.

“So, what am I to do with these notes, eh?”

“I don’t give a good goddamn what you do with them. Turn them into quarters and jam every one of ‘em up your ass for all I care.”

Gold Hat did not understand and turned to the clown man. “Que?”

The clown man shrugged. Dan George was growing impatient. “Let me tell you something, old simpleton. When you attacked that train, you unleashed the Leviathan, and if you don’t take heed of my warning, it will be very bad for you.”

The two old men cackled back and forth to each other and the clown man spoke up, “What’s this Leviathan?”

“One of the monsters of hell, its gatekeeper, and I warn you it will be coming for you. You should take my offer now, Gold Hat. Because if you do not, I can guarantee you that a rain of shit will fall on you like you have never known.” The Mule Tamer II, Chica's Ride