There did not seem to be much else that Hilola could do.

William Etty As expected, Hilola had done nothing while he was gone. She was a terrible camp mate. She was lazy and inept at just about anything but swimming and looking beautiful and doing the things that women did to drive men mad.

There did not seem to be much else that Hilola could do. Ramon shrugged and thought that if a woman could do nothing else, swimming beautifully and fornicating wildly was not such a terrible repertoire. He dropped the sheep at her feet and set about methodically breaking it down.

“Oh, goody. I’m about sick of dried pork and fish.”

He liked her company. She sat and watched him work and liked it. He was proud of his skill as a hunter and woodsman and proud that he knew how to skin and dress an animal. He was showing off a little and while he had her attention, decided to break the news to her.

“I found a good spot to hide the gold.”

“What?” She looked up from the work he was doing, into his eyes, as if he’d suddenly started speaking to her in his native tongue.

“The gold. We’ll leave it in a slot canyon over there.” He pointed with his bloody knife, “We’ll give the authorities a map as to its whereabouts.” He casually walked over to the map that had survived his fall into the river. He opened it carefully and pointed to the spot he was certain was their present location. He looked up at her and waited for the battle to ensue.

“Like hell we will!” She stood up and looked at him as if he’d lost his senses. “Are you completely nuts?”

“No. Only partially.” Allingham; Desperate Ride