Free The Legend of El Duque by J. R. Roberts

bitten before.”
    â€œI can see that.”
    The man took the reins of both horses and walked them farther into the barn.

TWENTY-THREE
    Montero and his two men approached the livery, and then stopped.
    â€œAll right,” Montero said, “you two go in and find out what you can.”
    â€œWhat are you going to do?”
    â€œI will stay out here and watch,” Montero said. “I do not want you to be interrupted.”
    Mendez and Ibanez exchanged a glance, then turned and walked toward the entrance to the barn.
    * * *
    Clint left the hotel, looked around, determined that he was not being watched. The three men may have had nothing to do with him, but he still had a bad feeling, and over the years had come to depend on his instinct.
    The three men were up to no good.
    * * *
    Mano turned to leave the barn, but his path was suddenly blocked by two men.
    â€œExcuse me,
compadres
,” he said. “You are blocking my way.”
    â€œJust take it easy
, chico
,” Ibanez said. “We have some questions to ask you.”
    â€œI do not know either of you,” Mano said. “Why would I answer your questions?”
    â€œIt would be much better for you if you do,” Mendez said.
    â€œDo not force us to be unpleasant,” Ibanez added.
    Mano had his saddlebags over his left shoulder, and his rifle in his left hand. That left his gun hand free, and he let it hang down by his gun.
    â€œI do not want to talk to you,” he said. “Stand aside.”
    But neither man moved, and Mano knew he could not avoid trouble. What he didn’t know was whether or not this had anything to do with Clint Adams.
    â€œWhat question could you have for me?” he asked. “I do not know you.”
    â€œThe gringo you rode in with,” Ibanez said. “Who is he, and why is he here?”
    Well, Mano thought, that answers that question.
    * * *
    Clint approached the livery and saw one man standing outside, two standing in the doorway. He assumed Mano was inside. That meant the man outside was a lookout.
    He changed his direction, headed for the back of the stable.
    * * *
    Carlos Montero watched as Mendez and Ibanez stopped in the doorway of the livery. He turned and looked behind him, and caught just a glimpse of Clint Adams before he disappeared behind the stable. Montero decided to follow him and see what he did. It might also give him some idea of who the gringo was.
    * * *
    â€œWhy do you want to know that?” Mano asked.
    â€œWe are looking for a gringo,” one of them said, “and we want to know if your friend is the one we are looking for.”
    â€œWhy are you looking for a gringo?”
    â€œThat is not important,” the other said. “Just tell us who he is.”
    â€œIf I tell you who he is,” Mano said, “you might not like it.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause he might turn out to be somebody you don’t want to have anything to do with.”
    â€œNever mind that,” Ibanez said. “Does he have the money on him?”
    â€œAh,” Mano said, wondering when Clint would come looking for him, “this is about money.”
    â€œSí,”
Mendez said, “it is about money. A lot of money.”
    â€œWell, then you have the wrong people,” Mano said. “We don’t have any money. Now let me pass.”
    Both men dropped their hands to their guns and tensed.
    â€œYou will not pass until you tell us what we want to know,” Mendez said.
    â€œWho is the gringo?” Ibanez asked.
    Mano remembered something Clint had told him one night around the fire. That he’d never killed a man without giving him a chance to walk away. That he always tried to convince him to live.
    â€œAll right,” Mano said, “but you won’t like this. His name is Clint Adams, and if you don’t let me pass, you will both end up dead.”

TWENTY-FOUR
    Clint found a