The shots and the loud whoops had the passengers looking about frantically. Above, they could hear the driver swearing, and urging on the team. Alicia leaned across and stuck her head out the window to see what was happening, and saw three riders wildly chasing the stage and firing their guns into the air.

"They must be robbers," she declared, bouncing back into the corner.

"Well I don't intend to be robbed." The frowning man waved a large pistol and moved to the window, crushing the elderly lady into the corner. He stuck his arm out and fired.

"Don't be shooting back, you durned fool!" The driver yelled down as the stage began to slow.

It rocked to a halt, and the three riders appeared out of the dust, coughing and waving their sombreros. Alicia listened as the driver seemed to be arguing with the robbers, then he swore aloud as he jumped down, and opened the door.

"Everybody out, and you put that iron away, Mister. Just do as they say, and we'll be on our way."

The passengers stood in a line beside the stage, glaring at the Mexican strutting in front of them. He stopped and stood with his hands on his hips, looking back at his companions with a smug face.

"You weel geeve me all your monny," he sang in his accented English.

"I most certainly will not." Alicia set her jaw.

Eyes opened wide. "Señorita, I denk you didn't hear me. All your monny!"

"I heard you perfectly well, as hard as it was to endure."

The driver took off his hat and moaned, slumping against the stage.

"Deese is no joke, Señorita. You denk I am joking?" He spun around to his comrades. "Does she denk I am joking?"

"Solo dispárale y deja de perder el tiempo.' One man waved an impatient hand.

"No! No shooting," the driver moved between them. "You boys are in enough trouble already, you don't want to be shootin' folks too."

"She denks I make jokes." Petulant.

"You are a joke--"

"Ma'am, please." The driver turned to Alicia. "Don't agitate, let me deal with this.

"This is ridiculous," she scoffed and turned away.

"¿Los vas a robar o nor?"

"Si, si, un minuto."

"Oscar, listen--"

"Aiee! Don't use my name, Greengo. Now they all know."

"We know all your names." The diver looked perplexed. "You spend more time in the Nugget jail than you do out here!"

The third man climbed down and walked over to the elderly lady, silently holding out his hand for her purse.

"Don't you dare touch that woman's purse." Alicia pointed a rigid finger.

"¿Qué está pasando aquí, podemos terminar con el atraco?" The man still mounted held his hands up to the sky, pleading.

"Yeah, well it woulda been over long ago," the driver shouted back, "if Oscar here hadn't been so danged melodramatic."

Everyone looked at the driver. "Melodramatic?" A voice whispered.

While they all stood in silent contemplation, another whoop was heard, and an arrow buried itself in the side of the stagecoach.

"Oh, no, not this bunch too. Quick, get inside." The driver clambered up into the seat and grabbed the reigns. "Hang on!"

Oscar tried to get in as well, and was shoved abruptly to the ground, by Alicia as she pushed the other woman safely inside. The stage took off with a jolt as more arrows thudded into the carriage.

She watched the three Mexicans out the window, scrambling to mount up and gallop off, away from the band of approaching Indians. The frowning man spun the cylinder on his gun, getting ready, while the other lady commented that she hadn't dressed properly for this kind of adventure.

The stage slowed, the whoops faded, and the arrows gradually fell short. The driver checked if everyone was okay, receiving a garbled response.

"Be at the depot in a few minutes." He announced.

****

The brothers decided they couldn't outrun the Indians, and took cover behind some boulders at the foot of a steep hill.

"¡Luchamos hasta la muerte hermanos!" Alesandro declared, waving his pistol.

"I am not intending to die, Alesandro, so let us not be hasty," Oscar cautioned.

"Tal vez podríamos pow wow con el jefe de theor". Pedro offered, ducking low behind the boulders.

"Very good, Pedro. You go out there and talk to them then."

"¡Yo!"

"Eet was your idea, brother."

"Mira, uno de ellos viene solo". Alesandro aimed his pistol.

"Don't shoot. He wants to talk." They watched the Indian stroll toward them. "He must have heard you, Pedro." Oscar stood slowly, hand near his holster.

"How." The Indian raised a hand.

"¿Cómo?" ¿Qué quiere decir cómo? Cómo qué"

Oscar turned to his brother in disgust. "He doesn't ask how, you eembicile. Is a greeting, like Hola."

"Hola!" Oscar waved back, and took some tentative steps toward the native.

"I am Chief Runs in Weeds, leader of these warrior Comanches." He waved an arm back at the group behind him, chin jutting forward.

"And I, am Oscar de Zapata los Santiago." He stood at ease, hands on hips, and head tipped in profile. "We are the notorious brothers Santiago." He finished with a flamboyant twist of his wrist.

"We take your horses." The Chief said.

"¡Disculpe!"

Oscar looked around and found Alesandro by his side.

"He said they want our horses."

"¡Lo mato!"

"No! No killing. We see what they offer first." Oscar hitched up his belt and gave the Chief a stern look. "And you are offering us what, een return?"

"Your lives."

"¡Aiee! Le disparo ahora".

"Pedro, come queek, halp me weeth your brother before he gets us all killed." Oscar wrapped his arms about Alesandro, and they looked back to see, the rest of the war party was right behind the Chief, bows aimed and ready.

****

"Next time we make the demands." Oscar vowed, stumbling as he walked ahead of his brothers toward the town of Nugget.

****

Another cloud of dust as the stage pulled into the depot and the agent rushed out, his face a mask of fear as he saw the arrows jutting out of the carriage.

"Harmon, you okay? Anyone hurt?"

"Nah, just those consarned Santiago brothers again."

"They using bows and arrows now?"

"They wouldn't know how. Nah, them crazy Injuns again too. Scared the boys off though. But I'm gonna be late for the next stop, so if you could send a wire for me, I'd be obliged."

The two men went to the door and opened it, dropping the step and helping the ladies out. Boot arrived to mark his territory and sniff the passengers, deciding there was nothing interesting, and headed for the tree's meagre shade.

"Well, hello again, ma'am. Enjoy your stay in Nugget?"

"It was interesting. Could I get some tea?"

"Yep, all of ya, come right on inside. Take a load off."

Alicia cast a glance at the three horses tied to the rail, and inside, at the three men standing at the small bar. The tall one with the eagle feather in his hat band nodded politely as she passed.

The same woman as before, brought a pot of tea to the table and disappeared back from whence she came.

"Reckon you left town none too soon," the stage agent offered, bringing a drink for the frowning man.

"Oh? Why?" Alicia asked.

"Them boys," he tipped his head toward the trio at the bar, " is from the Double M ranch. They quit 'cause apparently the owner burned out a neighbour and then hired a gun to get rid of him. They wanted no part."

Alicia gasped. "That was Hoke, the man who met me here before. That was his cabin that burned, and he's the neighbour."

"That a fact? That nice young feller. Shame, I liked him."

"You talk as if he's gone."

"Ma'am, hired guns don't usually fail to do what they're hired for."

"That's disgusting." She stood and walked to the men at the bar. "Excuse me. Could you please tell me if Hoke Easterly is still in Nugget?"

"Be pleased to answer that, Miss . . .?" Morley Gravestock smiled, removing his hat, and receiving nothing in return, he introduced himself and the others with him.

With a suffering sigh, "Alicia Simpson. Now, my question?"

"Yes'm, he surely was when we left. You a friend of his?"

"A better friend apparently than those who run out of town, knowing he is being hunted by a gunslinger."

"Whoa, wait a sec there. We ain't actually friends with Hoke."

"I can see that."

"Well, you're leaving town, ain't yu?"

Alicia's cheeks flamed, and she worked her mouth around for a minute then stamped her foot. "No. I'm not. I'm going back."