The firing stopped and, after a few seconds of dying echoes, the canyon grew silent.
“Tyree, do you see him? Where the hell is he?” one of the ambushers yelled, and Falcon could hear the last two words repeated in echo down through the canyon.
Falcon studied the rock face of the wall just behind the spot where he had located two of them; then he began firing. His rifle boomed loudly, the thunder of the detonating cartridges picking up resonance through the canyon and doubling and redoubling in intensity. Falcon wasn’t even trying to aim at the two men, but was instead taking advantage of the position in which they had placed themselves. He fired several rounds, knowing that the bullets were splattering against the rock wall behind the two men, fragmenting into whizzing, flying missiles. It had the effect that he wanted, because the two men who had thought they had the perfect cover were exposed. Yelling and cursing, they began firing back at Falcon.
It took but two more shots from Falcon to silence both of them.
For a long moment, the canyon was in silence.
“Luke, John?” Tyree called.
“They’re dead, Tyree,” Falcon replied. “Both of them.”
Tyree’s voice had come from the other side of the narrow draw, halfway up on the opposite wall.
“How do you know they’re dead?”
“Because I killed them,” Falcon said. “Just like I aim to kill you.”
“The hell you say,” Tyree replied.
Falcon changed positions, then searched the opposite canyon wall. There was silence for a long time. Then, as Falcon knew he would, Tyree popped up to have a look around.
“Tyree,” Falcon shouted. And the echo repeated the names.
“What do you want?…
“I want you to throw your gun down and give yourself up,” Falcon said.
“Why should I do that?”
For his answer, Falcon raised his rifle and shot at the wall just behind Tyree, creating the same effect he had with Luke and John. The only difference was that he’d shot only one round, but he’d placed it accurately enough to give a demonstration of what he could do.
“Son of a bitch!” Tyree shouted.
“I can take you out of there if I need to,” Falcon said.
“How the hell did you know who we are?” Tyree asked.
“Hell, the whole country knows who you are!” Falcon replied. “You don’t have anywhere to go.”
Falcon was bluffing. All the time he had been trailing them, he had not known who they were. The names Tyree, John, and Luke, he had gotten from the men yelling at each other across the canyon.
“Come on down, Tyree,” Falcon said. “I don’t want to have to kill you.”
“You go to hell,” Tyree shouted back down.
Falcon waited a few minutes, then he fired a second time. The boom sounded like a cannon blast, and he heard the scream of the bullet, followed once more by a curse.
“By now you’ve probably figured out that I can make it pretty hot for you up there,” Falcon said. “If I shoot again, I’m going to put them where they can do the most damage. You’ve got five seconds to give yourselves up or die.”
Falcon raised his rifle.
“No, wait!…
“Throw your weapons down first.”
Falcon saw a hand appear; then a pistol and rifle started tumbling down the side of the canyon, rattling and clattering until they reached the canyon floor.
“Put your hands up, then step out where I can see you,” Falcon ordered.
Moving hesitantly, Tyree edged out from behind the rocky slab where he had taken cover. He was holding his hands over his head.
“Come on down here,” Falcon said.
Stepping gingerly, Tyree came down the wall until, a moment later, he was standing in front of Falcon. Falcon handcuffed him.
“Where are you takin’ me?” Tyree asked.
“I’m going to take you back to MacCallister to stand trial,” Falcon explained.
The trial of Jefferson Tyree started at nine in the morning, and by lunchtime was over but for the closing arguments. Court recessed for lunch, but by one o’clock everyone was back in place, awaiting the closing arguments.
There was a constant buzz among the spectators in the gallery, but it stilled when the bailiff came into the
