“Well, yes, I suppose you would, if you could. But the truth is, these are desperate and dangerous men, so I doubt that anyone would fault you if you don’t bring them in alive.”
Falcon shook his head. “Still, if I was wearing the star, I would be honor bound to try to bring them in. But I’m going to be truthful with you, Sheriff. I don’t have any intention of bringing them back alive. I plan to track them down, then kill them. And I mean every last one of them.”
“There are five of them. There is one of you,” Sheriff Corbin said.
“By now there’s probably only four of them,” Falcon said. “And even if Ponci is still alive, I expect he is pretty much out of it.”
Sheriff Corbin stood there for a moment, rolling the star over in his hand. Then he nodded and put the star back in the drawer.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said. “You don’t need a star for that. I suppose that was part of your deal with the Indians?”
“Yes.”
“Well, if it prevents war ... then I say kill the bastards. They’re worthless murderers anyway. Better them dead than some of the good citizens of Pima County, and that’s what would happen if the Indians go on the warpath.”
“I thought you might see it that way.”
“The only problem is, if you don’t let me deputize you, I can’t send a posse. Pin on this badge and I guarantee that half the able-bodied men in town would go with you.”
“I don’t want a posse.”
“With odds of five to one ... or even if it is only four to one, a posse might come in handy,” the sheriff suggested.
“I told you what I was going to have to do, Sheriff,” Falcon said. He shook his head. “I see no need in getting good citizens mixed up in this.”
“Listen, Mr. MacCallister, I don’t think you have to be worryin’ about getting any of our good citizens mixed up in this,” Sheriff Corbin said. “Don’t you believe for one moment that I wouldn’t be able to find people in this town who would be willing to turn a blind eye if these outlaws didn’t make it back alive.”
Falcon paused for a second before he spoke again. “Yes, well, that’s not all there is to the promise,” he said quietly.
Sheriff Corbin picked up the coffeepot to pour himself a cup. “What do you mean that isn’t all there is to the promise? You’re going to track them down and you’re going to kill them. Seems to me like that’s about all there is. What else would ole Keytano be wantin’ you to do?”
“I’m going to scalp them,” Falcon said flatly.
Sheriff Corbin put the pot back down in surprise, and he turned to look at Falcon.
“What did you say?”
“I said I was going to scalp them.”
“You are planning to scalp white men? God in heaven, man, why would you do such a thing?” the sheriff blurted.
“I told you. It is part of the promise I made to Keytano.”
“Well, to hell with Keytano,” Sheriff Corbin said. “Killin’ them murderin’ bastards is one thing, but killin’ ’em and then scalpin’ ’em ... that’s something else again. That ain’t somethin’ white men do to one another. It ain’t civilized.”
“No, it isn’t civilized,” Falcon agreed. “But if you think about it, after I kill them, they’ll be dead. So it won’t make any difference to Fargo Ford and his bunch whether I scalp them or not. And it might prevent an Indian war.”
“Might? You mean there is a chance that, even if you kill these bastards, and then ...” Sheriff Corbin paused for a moment, as if struggling to say the word. “And then ... scalp them ... we still might have a war?”
“Yes.”
“How so?”
“Turns out Keytano isn’t the only one we have to worry about,” Falcon said. “He’s got a young buck in his band named Chetopa.”
“Chetopa, yes, it would be him,” Sheriff Corbin said.
“You know him?”
Sheriff Corbin nodded. “I’ve never had any real run-ins with him ... but he’s come off the reservation a few times to harass some freight wagons, frighten the passengers in the stagecoaches. As far as I know, that’s all he’s ever done. Unless he’s the one who killed those three prospectors.”
Falcon nodded. “I’m sure he is the one. Chetopa has a wild hair up his ass, and I don’t think anything is going to calm him down.”
“So what you are telling me is that, even if you track down and kill Fargo Ford and his gang, the Indians, or at least Chetopa, might still go on the warpath?”
“Yes.”
“Well if that’s the case, why are you willing to do this?”
“Because if I don’t do this, it won’t only be Chetopa on the warpath, it will be Keytano too. And I have a feeling
