Chapter 7 – Gone, Gone, Gone

Bart tried to open his eyes but discovered they were covered by a bandana. Similarly, he was gagged and couldn't make a sound. Upon further examination he found his hands tied behind his back and, to finish off the picture, his legs were bound together. 'Well,' he thought, 'somebody's gone to a lot of trouble to make sure I won't get away.'

He took several minutes to further assess his situation. From the rough bouncing around he assumed he was in the back of a wagon traveling over a dirt road. On occasion he could feel straw scratching his face. He strained to hear something, anything, but there was no sound save for the clop-clop-clop-clop of the horse's feet. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, or who had kidnapped him for that matter. All he knew was that he was highly uncomfortable and was having trouble breathing through the gag in his mouth.

He had no idea how long he'd been in this position, or how much longer he had to go. Unable to answer any of those questions, he turned his attention to who it was that had taken him. Obviously, Travis Cole was out, which was a relief to know. He scoured his memory for anyone that might want to take him and could find no one. His frustration grew the longer he tried to think of someone, and just when he was about to give up he heard a voice singing in Spanish. It had to be the driver, and he couldn't understand very much, but he heard the words "always love you." They gave him no clue, but at least he knew he was still in Mexico.

He struggled against his bindings and made no headway; after a while he passed out from the efforts. He found himself exhausted and slept the rest of the day.

When he came to he was no longer in the wagon He was sitting in a chair, hands bound behind him. The blindfold and the gag had been removed, and at least he was more comfortable. He looked around and tried to determine where he was. It seemed to be inside a nondescript room of some sort with tile on the floor and stucco on the walls. He hadn't been awake very long when he heard footsteps in the hall and a tall, thin Mexican entered the room. The man had a tray in one hand and a pistola in the other. There was a plate of food and a glass of water on the tray. The man began to untie Bart but stopped when Bart asked, "café? "The guard (obviously) understood and left quickly. In just a minute he was back with a pot of coffee and a cup. He untied Bart's hands, then backed up into the doorway and stood with his pistola pointed at Bart. "Comer."

Bart didn't hesitate. He wolfed down the food, washing it down with three cups of coffee. The brew certainly wasn't as good as the black carada coffee back at the Casita, but it was better than nothing. "Dónde estoy?" (Where am I?) The guard ignored him and moved to retie his hands behind him, then picked up the tray and reholstered the pistola. He exited the room and left Bart no wiser than he'd been before.

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"I knew we shouldn't have come to Mexico," Bret insisted.

"Who knew they'd still be after him almost twenty years later?" Dandy asked.

"Who knew Travis Cole would still be after him twenty years later? And they're not after him . . . they're after Doralice." Bret unfolded the ransom note and read it one more time.

'Bret Maverick – We have taken your brother and am holding him hostage. We will keep him hostage until you pay the ransom we want for him. The ransom is his wife, Doralice Donovan Medina. She was supposed to hang for the murder of our son, Sergio Medina, and he stole her from us. We want her back so that the original sentence may be carried out. You have four days to pay the ransom and turn Doralice Medina over to us or we will hang your brother in her place. We will not accept any other ransom. Singed, Donda and Estella Medina.'

"What do I do, Dandy?" Bret wailed.

"Well, there's no sense going to the authorities, that's for sure. I think the first thing you better do is send for Doralice."

"You don't honestly think . . . "

"Of course not, man. But she needs to be here. This is her husband we're talking about. Then we need to sit down and formulate a plan, just in case. I'll go down and talk to Aldonza and Esteban, and see what they can tell me about the Medinas. You go over and send a telegram to Doralice. I think you better tell her the truth about what's going on, just so she understands the urgency of the situation."

"Alright. Where's the telegraph office?"

"Take the road out of here and when you get to the first cross street, turn left and go about a block. You'll see the telégrafo sign out front."

"I'll meet you back here when I've got a reply."

"Good luck."

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Doralice heard the knocking at the door and found Dave Parker standing there with a telegram in his hands. "Didn't mean to read this, Doralice, but I figured you needed to get it right away." He handed her the telegram and remained in the doorway, assuming she might need some help. She read the wire over and sagged somewhat when she read it.

"My God," she murmured. "Dave, can you take me back to Little Bend right away? I just need to throw some things into a valise. I'll be ready to go in five minutes."

"Sure, I can. Want me to have your horse saddled?"

"Please. I'll be ready when you come back with her." And she was gone up the stairs, with the telegram lying on the floor. Dave picked it up and read it on the way to the barn.

'Doralice. The Medina family has kidnapped Bart and are holding him for ransom. They threaten to hang him if you don't turn yourself over to them in four days. They intend to hang you. Please come to Colombia as soon as possible, you need to be here just in case we can't free him. In all haste, Bret.'

Dave hurried to the barn to have Killarney saddled, while Doralice threw some things in a small valise. She hurried back down the stairs and ran into the kitchen, explaining briefly what was happening to Lily Mae and flying back to the door. Dave was there with Killarney; he helped her mount and they raced down the road back towards town. The stage for Laredo left in one hour, and Doralice intended to be on it.