“That’s right, my room.”
“I’ll tell him, sir.”
“Thank you.”
McCall continued up the steps, found his room, opened the door, set his gear down and sat on the bed. While waiting for the deputy to arrive he yanked off his boots.
“Wait,” Weeks said.
“What?”
“There, across the street.”
Butler looked across the street from the hotel and saw what Weeks was talking about.
“The deputy,” Butler said. “What’s he want?”
“Probably just keepin’ an eye on McCall,” Weeks said.
“What do we do?”
“We wait,” Weeks said. “We just wait.”
“Deputy?”
Collins looked up at the sound of the voice and saw Anson Delacroix, the hotel clerk, crossing the street toward him.
“What is it, Anson?”
“Uh, Mr. McCall said he’d like to see you in his room…now.”
“In his room?”
“That’s what he said.”
“How did you know I was out here?” Collins asked, frowning.
“He told me.”
“McCall?”
Delacroix nodded.
“He said you followed him from the livery.”
“Shit.”
“You better get up there.”
Collins stared at Delacroix for a few seconds, then hitched up his gunbelt and said, “Yeah, I guess I’d better. What room is he in?”
Delacroix frowned and said, “I was so nervous I forgot to look at what key I was giving him.”
“Well, let’s go back into the hotel and find out, then.”
“He’s goin’ inside,” Butler said. “What’s he goin’ inside for?”
“Relax,” Weeks said. “We got plenty of time.”
“How can I relax?” Butler asked. “That’s Sam McCall we’re goin’ after.”
“I know that, Butler, but we ain’t just goin’ after him,”
Weeks said, smiling. “We’re gonna kill him.”
Butler’s stomach churned. He wished he were as confident as Simon Weeks.
McCall was standing by the window, watching two men across the street who were watching the hotel, when there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!”
The door opened and a man stepped in. He was tall, slender, not yet out of his twenties. He was wearing a deputy’s star.
“What’s your name, Deputy?”
McCall was barefoot, and his gunbelt was hanging on the bedpost across the room. The deputy had to swallow hard before answering.
“Collins, B-Bob Collins.” He’d almost called McCall
“Your boss tell you to bird-dog me?”
“Yes, sir.” Damn! “Yes.”
“What’s his name?”
“Keller,” the man said, “Sheriff Walt Keller.”
“Well, you go back and tell your sheriff that I’ll only be in his town overnight, and I’m not lookin’ for trouble. You got that?”
“I got it.”
“Well, go on then…git!”
The deputy turned to leave, but McCall thought of something else.
“Deputy!”
“Yes?” The deputy turned away from the door real quick, his shoulders tensed.
“How many deputies in this town?”
“Just me, si—uh, just me.”
“How’d everyone know I was comin’?”
“You, uh, would have to ask the sheriff that, si’mr.
McCall,” the deputy stammered. “I don’t rightly know. All I know is I was told you was coming, and then I was told to follow you.”
McCall frowned. He couldn’t figure out right at that moment who knew he was going to Corozon. He himself hadn’t known it until he saw the road sign proclaiming Corozon five miles away.
“When were you told I was comin’?”
“Uh…two days ago.”
“Two days, eh?”
“Yessss…” The “sir” almost slipped out again.
“All right,” McCall said, “go and give your boss my message.”
“Sure,” Collins said, opening the door, “sure.”
After the deputy left, McCall looked out the window again, standing to one side, not directly in front of it. He’d learned that long ago. The two men were still across the street. Now that he knew they weren’t deputies, it wasn’t hard to figure out what they wanted.
For a moment McCall considered just holing up in his room until sunup and then riding out, but he balked at that. For one thing, he was hungry and thirsty, and he wanted a bath.
Fuck ’em, he thought. If they want to take their chance, let ’em. He wasn’t going to let some two-horse town with the willies make him dig a hole like some desert critter.
He pulled his boots back on and went looking for his comforts.
Weeks and Butler watched the deputy leave the hotel and hurry off down the street.
“Whataya think?” Butler asked.
“McCall just rode into town, right?” Weeks asked. “What’s he gonna want?”
“A drink?” Butler said. “A meal?”
“Both,” Weeks said, “and maybe a woman, too. Two of those three things he can get from the saloon.” “We just come from the saloon.”
“I know,” Weeks said, “and we’re goin’ back there to wait for McCall to show up.”
“What if he don’t?”
“He will,” Weeks said. “He’s definitely gonna want adrink, and when he comes to get it, we’ll be waiting. Come on.”
McCall watched the two men from his window for a few moments after the deputy left. He wanted to know whether or not they’d be there when he went back out.
He was about to leave when he saw them start to walk away. He kept an eye on them until they were out of sight.
Maybe they wouldn’t be right outside when he left the building, but he had a feeling he’d be seeing them again, very soon.
He left the room to arrange for a bath.
After Collins told the sheriff what McCall had told him, Keller left his office and went to find Wexler at the telegraph office again.
“McCall’s in the hotel,” Keller said. The other choice for a place to stay might have been Mrs. McCavity’s
