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“It wasn’t a gunshot wound,” Dr. Andrews said as he finished treating Falcon’s wound. He put his equipment away and closed his bag. “They came through town about mid-afternoon,” he said. “There were five of them, including Fargo Ford.”

“And one of them was hurt?”

“More than just hurt. He’s going to die if he doesn’t get treatment.”

“I thought you treated him.”

Dr. Andrews shook his head. “No. I tried to, but he wouldn’t let me.”

“How was he hurt?”

“Well, to quote Fargo Ford, he brung it on by himself by messing with some girl, and she cut him in the leg.”

“I’ll be damn,” Gentry said. “It had to be the Indian girl.”

“It’s a leg wound, yet you say he will die if he doesn’t get treatment?” Falcon asked.

“He has the onset of gangrene,” Dr. Andrews said. “It’s going to require a very aggressive treatment to stop the spread, but Ponci isn’t going to allow it. In fact, it may already be too late. The idiot is trying to treat it with laudanum.”

At that moment a tall thin man with white hair and a white handlebar mustache came into the saloon. He was wearing a white collarless shirt and a black leather vest. A star was pinned to the vest. He stepped up to the bar.

“Dooley, is Gentry in here?” the sheriff asked.

“I’m back here, Sheriff,” Gentry called to him, having heard the question.

“Mr. Gentry, I understand you were robbed today,” the sheriff said, coming toward the table where Gentry, Dr. Andrews, and Falcon were.

“That’s right, Sheriff,” Gentry said. “We was robbed, Kerry was killed, an Indian girl was killed, and Mr. MacCallister here was shot.”

“Yes,” the sheriff said. He stuck his hand out. “Mr. MacCallister, Sheriff Corbin. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Sheriff,” Falcon replied, taking the proffered hand. “I understand from the doc here that these men came through your town this afternoon.”

“They did indeed,” Corbin said. “But of course, none of us knew then that they had robbed the stagecoach.”

“Yes, well, they were also escaped prisoners,” Falcon said. “They killed a man back in Calabasas and Sheriff Ferrell put them in jail. I know damn well he didn’t just let them out.”

“No, I know Sheriff Ferrell and I don’t reckon he would do something like that. The problem is, we don’t have the telegraph here, so we’re almost always the last ones to know anything. Truth to tell, I looked through my files and couldn’t even find any paper to serve on them.”

Falcon stared at the sheriff for a moment and saw him wince, then look down. He knew then that the sheriff was lying; he was sure there was paper. On the other hand the sheriff was one man, and Fargo Ford alone was more than most lawmen could handle. Fargo Ford with his gang would be impossible.

Falcon smiled to let the sheriff know that he understood. Then he held up his hand. “Nobody is blaming you, Sheriff.”

“Yes, well, right now, we’ve got us a bigger problem than those robbers,” Sheriff Corbin said. “Fact is, it is one hell of a problem.”

“Yaakos Gan,” Falcon said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yaakos Gan,” Falcon said again. “That’s Cloud Dancer’s Indian name.”

“Oh, yes,” the sheriff said. “Well, if you know that much about her, you may also know that she is the daughter of Keytano. And here lately, Keytano’s band has been giving us a bit of trouble. The funny thing is, Keytano is the one who has been holding the others ... the young troublemakers ... back. But now ...”

Sheriff Corbin sighed, and shrugged his shoulders. “Now, I don’t know what is going to happen.”

“The only thing you can do is deliver her body and explain what happened,” Falcon said.

“Yeah, well, that’s what should be done. But what is going to be done is, we are just going to take her out to the edge of Apache land and leave her there.”

“No,” Falcon said. “You can’t do it that way. That would start a war for sure.”

“Maybe. But I figure whoever takes her out there is going to die. I damn sure ain’t goin’ to do it, and I can’t ask anyone else to do it.”

Falcon chuckled and shook his head. “Well, hell, Sheriff, in a roundabout way, didn’t you just ask me?”

Sheriff Corbin smiled and nodded his head. “I reckon maybe I did. All right, so I’m not very subtle. The point is, Mr. MacCallister, you, being who you are, are probably the only white man alive who could deliver that poor girl to her parents and come out of there alive.”

“What makes you think I would come out alive? Especially after what I did to them a few years ago.”

“Dlo Binanta,” Sheriff Corbin said. “You do know that’s what they call you, don’t you?”

Falcon nodded. “Yes, I know that.”

“Apaches don’t give names to just anyone. They only give names to those they respect.”

“But they regard me as their enemy,” Falcon said.

“This is true, but an Apache holds a worthy enemy in as high regard as a trusted friend.”

“And you think that translates into me being able to get into the village, deliver the girl, and get out with my scalp intact?”

Sheriff Corbin nodded. “I think you can do it,” he said.

MacCallister smiled. “You aren’t just saying that to talk me into doing this, are you?”

Corbin laughed. “Well, maybe I am. What do you say, Mr. MacCallister? Will you do it? Or do I dump the girl at the edge of their land?”

“That’s blackmail, Sheriff.”

Corbin put up both his hands. “I know it. I’m guilty of it, and I admit it.”

“All right,” MacCallister said. “I’ll do it. I don’t like having a cinch jerked into me like this. But I don’t intend to let that young woman’s body just lie out there and rot until her people find her.”

“Thank you,” Corbin said. He put his hand in his pocket, then brought out a star. “Oh, and I’m making you a deputy.”

Falcon waved his hand and shook his head.

“I don’t want to be a deputy,” he said.

“You ought to reconsider that, Mr. MacCallister,” Sheriff Corbin said. “With this star, you can do anything you need to do.”

“Sheriff, I’ll do anything I need to do, with or without the star, and with or without permission.”

Corbin nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Well, I rather thought you were like that. I was just going to give you the cover of a star, that’s all.”

“By the way, Sheriff, if I happen to run across Fargo Ford and his men, and in that encounter if I happen to kill them, would you arrest me?”

Sheriff Corbin laughed. “Only Falcon MacCallister would suggest that he could single-handedly run across Fargo Ford and his gang and kill them. Arrest you? Hell, no, Mr. MacCallister. If you kill those sons of bitches, I’ll give you the keys to the town,” the sheriff said.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need the star, or the keys to the city. I’ll do what needs to be done. And for that, I will need a couple of horses. Know where I can buy them?”

“You don’t worry about that, Mr. MacCallister. I’ll get you two of the best damn horses you’ve ever seen, and they won’t cost you a penny.”

Falcon recalled his horse Diablo, and he shook his head.

“I don’t think you can get me the best horse I’ve ever seen,” he said. “But do what you can.”

CHAPTER 10

Falcon rode one horse while leading another. The horse he was leading was dragging a travois, and on the travois was Cloud Dancer’s body, sewn into a canvas shroud. Falcon rode out in the open, making certain that he was in plain sight. He was doing that to send a clear message to the Indians: that his coming represented no danger to them.

He had gotten directions to the village from the sheriff, and was heading straight for it. He wondered how long it would be before someone spotted him, and he knew the moment it happened. He knew, not because he saw them, but because he felt them.