The Red Sombrero by Nelson Nye

ground he slumped down again, deflated, glaring at the legs thrust grotesquely out before him, overwhelmed by the futility of attempting to do anything. “When you get to be my age,” he scowled, bitterly feeling the weight of his years, “you’ll quit butting your head and take things the way you find them. It’s a sorry damn world and the quicker you realize it the less you’ll be hurt.”
    “You don’t really believe that.”
    He scowled hard at his boots, trying his best to ignore her.
    “You’re no coward, Reno.”
    That straightened him up a little. He blinked bleary eyes and slumped back again. “A lot you know about me,” he sneered.
    “I’ve heard quite a few of the stories — ”
    “A pack of lies,” he growled; and she said, “Yes. I think they must be. No man who had the daring to achieve the rank of Descardo — ”
    “O Christ!” he said, writhing out of the chair. He rammed a hand through his hair and glared at her blackly. “I’m not Descardo — ”
    “I was pretty sure you weren’t,” she smiled. “You’ll have to practice harder if you intend to fool Don Luis.”

SEVEN
    I T WAS NOT until Reno had confessed himself an unheeded advisor on Sierra’s staff that he realized he couldn’t stop there with this girl. He realized something else then, too — that no matter how little he might actually divulge, he’d been a fool for opening his mouth in the first place. It amounted to putting his life in her hands and, if she happened to take the notion, there was no way he could stop her from going straight to Cordray.
    He looked at her narrowly, wondering how far to trust her and knowing he would have to trust her all the way as things stood. Or, at any rate, far enough to make his presence plausible. He told her how Descardo had died, and of the two bags of gold he’d taken off the general’s saddle. He explained how the money had been intended for the purchase of rifles Don Luis was to have procured and had waiting. He said nothing about his own improvisation, his intention of giving this place a wide berth. Nor did he mention the hunt Perron’s men had made for him.
    Perhaps the girl sensed she had not got the whole story. Looking puzzled she said, “But I don’t quite see your reason for trying to look like the General. The Federalistas — ”
    “Would have shot me on sight, regardless. There was nothing I could do about them. It was the
people
I hoped to fool if I ran into any, the land owning farmers — agrarians. I needed food, a horse and shelter. As Descardo, I figured they would not dare refuse me.”
    She still looked bewildered. He said, “Only the rabble have any love for Sierra; the agrarians are afraid of him, they do not want him to win. They would have turned me over to the government for the reward which has been posted on all of Sierra’s officers.”
    “But surely as Descardo — ”
    “No. He inspired too much dread. They wouldn’t have dared lay hands on El Rojo.”
    “So you became the General and didn’t meet anyone. You must have been relieved to discover you were at Tadpole.” She smiled and then looked baffled again. “But why has Don Luis confined you to the house?”
    “I do not have the gold. I think he is trying to find it.”
    He saw the doubt in her eyes and added quickly, “I don’t say he plans to steal it but he refuses to deal with me until I produce it. Put yourself in my place; I can’t move all those rifles without help. He wants his money, but I want some assurance of getting the rifles when I give it to him. To protect Sierra, and at the same time myself, I have agreed to turn it over when the rifles reach the border.
    “That still does not solve my dilemma,” he scowled, “it simply eases my position until I can get word to Sierra. So he confines me to the house.”
    “And you think he’s searching for it?”
    “What do you think?” Reno asked.
    She looked perplexed. “He might be. It does not seem too likely he