“What about you?” Willis asked. “You say you found Delshay’s village. Did you see him?”
“No, I did not see him.”
“I see,” Willis replied. “And did you find the woman?”
“No.”
“Well, then, it looks like we are about even, don’t it, Mr. Matt Jensen?”
Without answering, Matt walked back to the table where Bixby and Hendel were sitting.
“May I join you?” he asked.
“Yes, please do,” Hendel replied graciously.
“I heard you tell them that you didn’t find my wife,” Bixby said.
“No, I did not.” Matt reached for his pocket, intending to show Bixby the note he had found, but before he could, Bixby spoke again.
“There’s no need in your going out there again,” he said. “Cynthia is dead. I know she is.”
Matt shook his head. “I don’t believe she is dead.”
“I know, I know, you explained all about how Indians don’t bury their enemy. But that means nothing to me. I know that she is dead.”
“Mr. Bixby, I wish you had a little more confidence,” Hendel said. “I am convinced that she is still alive.”
“You hold on to that conviction, Mr. Hendel,” Bixby said. “In the meantime, I want you to go to the depot and secure two tickets for our return to New York. I have been in this accursed place quite long enough now. I am ready to go home.”
“No, Mr. Bixby, I will not purchase a return ticket for you,” Hendel said.
“What? What did you just say to me?” Bixby gasped, shocked at the response of the man who had always been subservient to him.
“I said, Mr. Bixby, that I will not purchase a return ticket for you.”
“How dare you refuse me!”
“We are not leaving Phoenix until Cynthia has been rescued,” Hendel said.
“Cynthia, is it? Since when do you have the right to call my wife by her first name?”
“As it is evident that I am more concerned for her welfare than you, I have assumed that right,” Hendel said. “Neither you nor I will leave here until she has safely returned.”
“You are wasting your noble feelings, Hendel. My wife is dead.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“That’s because you don’t want to believe it. But I know she is dead.”
“How do you know she is dead?”
Bixby bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because, even as I escaped, I saw the savages kill her,” he said.
“Then, if you saw that, why did you offer a reward for her safe return?” Hendel asked.
“Maybe it is because I just didn’t want to admit it to myself,” Bixby said.
Matt applauded quietly, and as he did so, both Bixby and Hendel looked toward him.
“I congratulate you, Bixby,” Matt said. “With a performance like that, you should be on the stage.”
“What are you talking about, sir?” Bixby asked, the tone of his voice righteously indignant.
Matt took the little square of green cloth from his pocket and put it on the table.
“What is that?” Bixby asked.
“You don’t recognize it?” Matt replied.
“No, I don’t recognize it. Why should I?”
“But surely you recognize it, Mr. Bixby,” Hendel said. “That’s a piece of material from the dress Cynthia was wearing the day the two of you left to look at land.”
Bixby looked at the little square of cloth, then nodded. “Yes, now that you mention it, it is what she was wearing,” he agreed. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting to see it here like this.” He looked up at Matt. “You found this, did you?”
“I did.”
“Then, does this not prove that she is dead?”
“On the contrary,” Matt said, unfolding the cloth to expose the note that was inside. “If you read this, it will prove that she is still alive.”
Bixby grabbed the note, and as he read it, Matt studied the expression on his face. He recognized the moment Bixby read the crucial words: Moved to pity by the sight of my husband’s great fear, Delshay let him leave unharmed, though he kept me as his captive.
Finishing the note, Bixby folded it and started to stick it in his pocket.
“May I see the note, Mr. Bixby?” Hendel asked.
Bixby glared at Hendel. “No, you cannot see it. This is a personal letter from my wife to me.”
“From the wife you saw killed?” Matt asked.
“Well, I—I—thank God I was mistaken. There was some distance between us. I suppose it is possible that I just thought I saw her killed.”
“Show the note to Mr. Hendel.”
“I see no reason why I should do that just because you ask me to,” Bixby said.
“If you thought I asked you to show Hendel the note, you misunderstood me,” Matt said. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you to show him the note.”
“You—you have no right to order me to do such a thing,” Bixby said. Then, looking at the determined expression on Matt’s face, Bixby broke into a sweat, licked his lips, and with trembling hands, gave the note to Hendel.
Hendel read it, looked up at the moment he read the line about Delshay letting Bixby go, then returned to the note. After he finished reading it, he returned the note to Bixby without comment.
“Uh, naturally, after receiving this note, my position has changed,” Bixby said. “I will not be returning to New York until we have found her. Mr. Jensen, I would appreciate it very much, sir, if you would continue to look for her.”
“Call off your reward,” Matt said. “Not only were a dozen or more innocent Indians killed because of that foolish reward, it has made my job harder.”
“All right.”
“Do it now,” Matt said.
“Now? Here? Look at them, they are drunk and carrying on—how do you expect me to get their attention?”
“I can get their attention for you, Mr. Bixby,” Hendel said.
“You? Ha! How can someone like you get their attention?”
“Watch me,” Hendel replied with a confident smile.
Standing, Hendel put his fingers in his mouth, then let out with an ear-piercing whistle. As he promised, it got everyone’s attention as the talking halted in mid-conversation while all turned to see what was going on.
“Gentlemen—and ladies,” Hendel added, taking in the half-dozen or so women who were in the Dry Gulch, “excuse me for interrupting, but my employer, Mr. Bixby, has an announcement to make.”
Hendel sat down and, with some hesitancy, Bixby stood up. He was extremely cognizant of the fact that everyone in the saloon was staring at him, and he cleared his throat before he began to speak.
“I, uh, hereby withdraw the reward offer of ten thousand dollars.”
“What?” Willis shouted. “Why?”
“A question has been raised about the efficacy of the attack on the Indian village. It is entirely possible that several innocent Indians were killed and I want no part in it.” Bixby sat down.
“You’re behind this, ain’t you, Jensen?” Willis said. “You’re behind this, and you’re doing it because you want the reward all to yourself.”
Matt stared at Willis for a moment before he answered. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said quietly. “I’m behind this. And I’m doing it because I want the reward all for myself.”
“You!” Willis said, choking on his anger. Turning to face Matt, he moved his hand so that it hovered threateningly just over his pistol. “I’ve had a bellyful of you.”
Chairs tumbled over and tables were scooted across the floor as everyone in the saloon moved quickly to get out of the line of fire. They watched expectantly as Willis and Matt stared at each other. Matt was still seated.
“Stand up, Jensen,” Willis said with a snarl. “Stand up. Let’s get this done.”
“I don’t need be standing to beat someone like you,” Matt said. “You want to play this out, go ahead and draw. I can kill a little pissant like you as easily sitting as I can standing.”