Free The Adventurers by Harold Robbins Page B

valley."
    "If there are more militares it will be dangerous."
    "It will be more dangerous if we return home without meat, or without making sure we could obtain none," Manuelo replied.
    "True." Fat Cat nodded. "They would not like that."
    "Not at all," Santiago the Older added. "They will be hungry-"
    Both men stared at him in surprise. It was rare for the Indian to speak.
    Manuelo turned back to Fat Cat. "You will go." "Me?" Fat Cat exclaimed. "Why me?"
    "You have been in this valley before. None of the rest of us has. So it is logical that you should go."
    "But I was there only one day," Fat Cat protested. He gestured toward me. "Then the general sent me back with him."
    Manuelo looked at me. "Do you remember the valley?"
    "Si."
    "How far is it from here to your hacienda?"
    "One and a half hours by horse."
    "On foot?" he asked. "A horse would attract too much attention."
    "Three, maybe four hours."
    Manuelo made up his mind. "You will take the boy with you. He can serve as your guide."
    Fat Cat grumbled. "At least we should take the horses. You know how difficult it is for me to walk. Besides, I have a feeling it is too dangerous. We shall be killed."
    Manuelo got to his feet. "In that case you will not need the horses," he said with finality. "Vaya!"
    Fat Cat got to his feet and reached for his rifle.
    "Leave it!" Manuelo said sharply. "And hide your pistol under your shirt. Then if you pass anyone on the road you are nothing but a poor campesino and his son on your way to Bandaya. If they see you with a rifle they will shoot first and ask questions afterward."
    Fat Cat didn't look happy. "How long will you wait for us?"
    Manuelo looked at him. I watched him calculating. He glanced up at the sun, then back at Fat Cat. "It is now roughly eight o'clock. If the boy is right you should reach the hacienda by noon. We will wait until nightfall. If you are not back by then, we start for home."
    Fat Cat stared at him without complaint. Each knew what the other was thinking. Had the situation been reversed Manuelo would have reacted the same way. It was one of the conditions of life.
    Fat Cat turned to me. "Come on, boy. Apparently it has also become my duty to return you home."
    "My cojones are killing me!" The younger Santiago's voice was almost a wail from the tree.
    Fat Cat looked up, smiling wickedly. "Too bad," he called.
    "Perhaps you would like it better if you could join us for this little walk?"
    The sun stood almost at the center of the heavens as we hid in the cane field and stared across the road. The barn and the kitchen had been burned to the ground. I could feel the heat from the charred timbers against my face. There was a sickness clutching in my stomach.
    I got to my feet. Fat Cat's hand pulled me down. "Be still! There still may be some of them around!"
    I stared at him as if he were someone I had never seen before. "They tried to burn my house."
    He didn't answer. His eyes squinted up and down the deserted road. Then he looked at me. "That's why your father sent you to the mountains," he said gruffly.
    "If he knew, he should have let me stay," I cried. "I wouldn't have let them burn the hacienda!"
    "They would have burned it and you too," Fat Cat said matter-of-factly. He got to his feet. "Come. Maybe we learn something."
    I followed him across the road. Halfway between the road and the house we came upon a body. It was lying face down in the dirt. Fat Cat turned it over. He looked down and spat. "Campesino!" he said contemptuously.
    I recognized him. It was old man Sordes, who did the gardening and tended the flowers around the house. I told Fat Cat.
    He spat again. "Just as well," he said noncommittally. "He would have been out of a job anyway."
    We walked on toward the house. The galeria was gone too. It seemed to have collapsed into the cellar. I could feel the heat more intensely now.
    Fat Cat reached out with his foot and kicked a timber. It fell away from the frame and down into the cellar. Almost