“For crissake, Marshal,” Callico said. “When’s the last time you saw them?”
“Week or so, maybe,” Rose said. “My work, one day’s pretty much like another one. Don’t you find it that way?”
“Where were they staying,” Callico said. “While they were here?”
“Guess they slept where they could,” Rose said. “You know how Indians are.”
“One of ’em’s an Indian,” Callico said. “Other one’s a breed.”
“Same thing, ain’t it?” Rose said. “Got Indian blood, they act like Indians. Never seen it to fail. You?”
Callico shook his head. Short, quick shakes like he had a fly in his ear.
“You got anything to tell me about the two fugitives?” he said.
“We lay eyes on ’em,” Rose said, “we’ll arrest them. Ain’t that right, Cato?”
“Sure,” Cato said.
Callico shook his head again, and wheeled his horse and looked at us.
“You men,” he said. “You seen… for crissake!”
“Afternoon, Amos,” Virgil said.
“What the fuck are you doing up here?” Callico said.
“Visitin’.”
“Visiting, my ass,” Callico said. “You come up here and warned them fucking fugitives.”
“Can’t say we did,” Virgil said.
“I got a mind to by God take this town apart until I find them,” Callico said.
Rose’s voice became softer.
“You’re the law in Appaloosa, Callico,” he said. “Me ’n Cato are the law here. Here you ain’t worth lizard scat.”
Like Cato and Rose, we were spread out on our side of the street. I had the eight-gauge. Callico looked at us. Then back at Cato and Rose.
“Cato and Rose,” Callico said. “I heard of you.”
“Hell, Chief,” Rose said. “Everybody heard of us.”
Callico looked back at us.
“Thick as fucking thieves,” he said.
I said, “Sorry we can’t be more helpful, Amos.”
“I can shoot with any of you,” Callico said.
“Probably not sitting on a horse,” Rose said.
“Probably not,” Cato said.
“Come on,” Callico said to his men, and headed his horse up Main Street at a gallop.
33
THE GOING UNDERFOOT was slow on this stretch as we rode south toward Appaloosa. The horses knew they were going home and didn’t need guidance. We gave them their head and, with the reins hanging loose over the saddle horn, let them pick their way through the thorny ground runners and low sage.
“Funny thing,” Virgil said. “’Bout the law.”
On a long ride, Virgil, who often went hours without saying anything, was given to musing aloud.
“What’s that,” I said.
“Up in Resolution,” Virgil said. “With Cato and Rose, we was on the side of the law, and Callico was not. When we get back to Appaloosa, Callico’ll be the law, and we’ll be on the other side of it.”
“True.”
“But we ain’t changed,” Virgil said.
“Nope.”
“Did the law change?” Virgil said.
“People who decide what it is changed,” I said.
“Don’t seem right,” Virgil said.
“Hell, Virgil, you made the law in every town we marshaled.”
“I did,” Virgil said. “Didn’t I.”
“You did,” I said. “Will again.”
“But it didn’t keep changing once I made it,” Virgil said.
“No, it didn’t,” I said. “Still don’t. Never does. When we’re marshaling you make rules and we call it the law. When we ain’t marshaling, you make rules and we call it Virgil Cole.”
The horses waded halfway into a small stream and stopped to drink. While they drank, Virgil thought about that.
“And you don’t care?” Virgil said.
“Nope. Same rules.”
We moved on across the stream and back into the rough scrub.
“And it don’t bother you?”
“Hell, Virgil,” I said. “You know I don’t worry much ’bout such things.”
“You let me decide?” Virgil said.
“Generally I agree with you,” I said.
“And if you didn’t?” Virgil said.
“Depends,” I said. “Can’t recall you ever asking me to do something didn’t seem like I should.”
“But how you know if you should?” Virgil said.
“Most people know what they should do, most of the time,” I said. “’Specially if they ain’t married.”
“So, why you think I worry about it?” Virgil said.
“Couple things,” I said. “You talk about it, but you don’t really worry about it. You don’t worry ’bout much of anything, ’cept maybe Allie.”
Virgil nodded.
“That’d be one thing,” Virgil said.
“And you’re a good gun hand,” I said.
“So are you,” Virgil said.
“Yeah, I am,” I said. “But you are the best gun hand I ever seen. Maybe the best there is. There’s some weight goes with that.”
Virgil was looking at some dragonflies hovering over a patch of flowers off to the right.
“Can’t just kill somebody ’cause you’re quicker’n them,” he said.
“No, you can’t,” I said.
Virgil was quiet for a time as the horses moved carefully along.
“And I don’t,” he said.
“No,” I said. “You don’t.”
34
VIRGIL AND I were at our post out front of the Boston House when Chauncey Teagarden strolled past us, wearing his ivory-handled Colt.
“Afternoon, Virgil,” he said. “Everett.”
I nodded.
Virgil said, “Afternoon.”
Chauncey stood for a moment looking at Virgil. Virgil had no reaction. Chauncey shook his head slightly.
“The great Virgil Cole,” he said.
“You’ll be checking that Colt with Fat Willis,” Virgil said.
“Of course,” Chauncey said.
He looked another moment at Virgil and then went i nside.
“You sure do impress him,” I said.
Virgil smiled.
“More important I am,” Virgil said. “Better he’ll feel when he kills me.”
“If he kills you,” I said.
“If he don’t, won’t matter to him one way or other,” Virgil said.
“’Cause you’ll have killed him.”
“Yep.”
“It’s like he’s… flirting,” I said.
“Is, ain’t it,” Virgil said.
“Like he wants to get to know you,” I said.
“Some fellas like that,” Virgil said.
“Enjoy the work more if they know you well,” I said. “’Fore they kill you?”
“Something like that,” Virgil said.
“Heard he was from New Orleans,” I said. “Won some duels down there.”
“Heard that, too,” Virgil said.
“Means he got self-control,” I said. “Being quick don’t make no difference in a duel.”
“And he can shoot,” Virgil said. “You can’t, you don’t win many duels.”
“So, what we don’t know is how fast?” I said.
“Killed Burleigh Ouellette,” Virgil said.
“Burleigh was quick,” I said. “Chauncey got him?”
“Did,” Virgil said.
“And you figure he’s here to get you,” I said.
“That’s what he’s here for,” Virgil said.
“You figure the general hired him?”
“Be my guess,” Virgil said.
“So, what’s Teagarden waiting for?” I said.
“Needs a situation where it’s just me and him. He ain’t gonna fight us both at the same time.”
I nodded.
“Needs me to draw first, and he’s figuring how to do that,” Virgil said.
“And maybe he’s enjoying the game,” I said.
“Probably,” Virgil said.
“You think he can do it?” I said.
“Kill me?” Virgil said.
“Yeah.”
“No,” Virgil said. “I don’t.”
“You never do,” I said.
“Correct,” Virgil said.
“And you been right, so far,” I said.
35
LAUREL, holding her skirt up, came along Main Street at a dead run. When she reached us, she whispered to Virgil. Virgil nodded.