Three of the riders were on horseback. The fourth, Ben Kirkpatrick, rode in the open-top buggy that sat low to the ground. The other three men had stayed in Rusty Nail to see if Soto had been followed and to keep watch on any other comings and goings. ‘‘It’s about time,’’ Beck said to the men seated at the round wooden table playing poker. ‘‘It looks like our safecracker has arrived.’’ Looking up at Beck, Bowen Flannery worked a toothpick to the side of his mouth and tossed seven dollars to the center of the table. ‘‘Call,’’ he said to Earl Caplan seated across from him. Then to Beck he said, ‘‘I was beginning to think this big-time, Portuguese, dynamite man had gotten a taste of free air and decided to duck back across the ocean.’’ Beck walked to the front door, saying over his shoulder with satisfaction, ‘‘Well, you can stop fretting over it, Bowen. He’s here.’’ Bowen shrugged, saying to the others, "Who said I was fretting?’’ Across from him, Caplan spread his cards on the rough tabletop.
