“I run the express office,” George said. “This is Paul Gibson, who runs the hardware store, and Mike Stovall, a rancher.”
“I’m Falcon MacCallister,” Falcon said.
Mike Stovall raised his eyebrows at hearing the name. “Falcon MacCallister?” he said. “Where have I heard that name before?”
“I get around,” Falcon said offhandedly. He was never in a hurry to remind anyone of who he was for fear of dredging up some old enmity of which he might not be aware.
“Wait a minute, I remember you,” Stovall said, snapping his fingers in recognition. “You’re the fella who had a personal war with Naiche sometime back, aren’t you?”
“That would be me,” Falcon admitted. “You’ve got a good memory.”
“Well, hell, mister, it’s not hard to remember a fella that helped make this part of the country a lot safer,” Mike said.
“Yeah, it’s safer for the time being,” Paul said. “The question now is, how much longer is it going to be safe?”
“Why do you say that?” Falcon asked.
“Keytano’s as bad as Geronimo and Naiche. They should’ve taken care of him when they took care of the others.”
“Keytano?”
“He’s the chief now.”
“Keytano has never given us any trouble,” George said. “Damn, who dealt this hand?”
“You did,” Paul said.
“Well, I’m obviously an idiot,” George said, and the others laughed.
“What do you mean Keytano has never given us any trouble?” Mike asked. “What about those three prospectors they found a while ago? All three of ’em was dead and all three of ’em was scalped.”
“Yes, well, they were found well into Indian land,” George said. “They had no business being there. Besides, anyone could have killed them; we don’t know that it was Keytano. It could have been someone else, angry because they were there. Dealer takes three cards.”
Falcon held a pair of jacks and drew three kings to them. He won the pot, his first pot in the last three hands, and smiling at his good fortune, reached out to drag the money toward him.
“Mr. MacCallister, I liked the way you handled that fella a while ago,” George said. “Most men would have drawn their gun, and we would’ve had another killing. But you didn’t, though Lord knows, you had every justification to do so.”
“Do you have many killings here?”
“Not so many as before. Sheriff Ferrell has done a very good job of cracking down on the lawlessness in this town.”
“Yes, by making the town add two deputies to the payroll,” Paul said.
“What are you saying, Paul? Would you would rather it go back to the way it was before?” George asked.
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that we’re having to pay for it. The town is taxin’ ever’thing now. Even the food you buy at the grocery store is bein’ taxed to pay for the deputies.”
“I don’t care if it is costing us. I’m with George. I think it’s worth it,” Mike said.
George glanced over at the clock. “Speaking of the sheriff and his deputies, the wife and I are having them over for breakfast tomorrow. And if I want to stay in good with her, I reckon I’d better go home and see if she needs anything.”
Paul laughed. “You just got a money shipment in, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Why, you sly old dog you. That’s a cheap way of hiring a few extra guards when you transfer it to the stagecoach tomorrow. Just feed them breakfast.”
“Whatever is necessary,” George said as he stood. “Gentlemen, this evening has been a pleasure. Mr. MacCallister, it was nice meeting you,” he added, extending his hand.
“The same,” Falcon replied, taking the hand George had offered.
It was just after first light the next morning when Pete Tucker sat on his horse at the edge of town. His nose still hurt, and it whistled every time he took a breath.
He reached up to press on the nostril to see if he could stop it from whistling, and the pain caused him to wince.
“I should’ve killed that son of a bitch,” he said aloud.
About a mile out of town, he saw what he had been waiting for, the approach of Fargo Ford and four other riders. He waited patiently until they drew even with him.
There were no greetings. Instead Fargo asked, “Did the shipment of money come in?”
“Yes, it’s down at the express office now,” Pete answered.
Fargo squinted at him. “Son of a bitch, you look like shit. What the hell happened to you?”
It wasn’t until then that the others noticed Pete’s condition. His nose was misshapen and his eyes were
