“I’m feeling a little left out,” I said. “Nobody’s looking at me.”
“That’s ’cause you’re ugly,” Virgil said.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Señorita offered me round the world for a dollar.”
“She included you second,” Virgil said.
“That’s just ’cause I ain’t famous like you,” I said.
“Also true,” Virgil said, and drank the last of his beer.
2
“I GOT ENOUGH CHANGE,” I said, “I can buy two more beers. Save the dollar for a room.”
“Maybe sleep in the livery stable,” Virgil said. “I’ve slept in worse than a hayloft.”
“We been sleeping in worse for most of the last year,” I said.
Virgil nodded. He was looking at the bartender coming toward our table carrying a bottle and three glasses. With him was a short, wiry man. Not thin, exactly, but lean, sort of hard-looking, with a scraggly blond beard.
“You’re Virgil Cole,” the wiry man said as he reached the table.
Virgil nodded.
“Like to buy you a drink, if I can,” the wiry man said.
“Sure can,” I said, real quick, before Virgil could be unfriendly. You never knew with Virgil.
I gestured at an empty chair, and the wiry man sat down. The bartender put three glasses on the table and poured a useful amount of whiskey in each one.
“Name’s Cates,” the wiry man said. “Everybody calls me Cates.”
Virgil nodded and sipped his whiskey.
“Whiskey clears the throat,” Virgil said. “Considerable better than beer.”
“It does,” Cates said. “You boys been traveling?”
Virgil nodded.
“This here’s Everett Hitch,” he said.
“By God,” Cates said. “I heard a you, too.”
“See that,” I said to Virgil.
“You been with Mr. Cole for some time,” Cates said.
“I have,” I said.
Virgil grinned.
“Well,” Cates said. “I’m proud to meet both you boys. Especially you, Mr. Cole.”
“ ’ Specially,” Virgil murmured to me.
“The great Virgil Cole,” Cates said happily, “right here, in my saloon.”
Virgil looked at me without expression.
“With his friend,” Virgil said.
“Of course,” Cates said. “With his friend, Mr. Hitch.”
“Everett,” I said. “And he won’t mind you call him Virgil.”
Virgil nodded. Cates nodded. And we all drank. Cates picked up the bottle and poured us all some more. Cates looked around the room.
“Look at the crowd,” he said. “Got to say you’re a big attraction, Virgil.”
“Like a geek show,” Virgil said.
“No,” Cates said. “God, no. It’s respect. It’s like a hero has come to town.”
Virgil looked at me.
“Hero,” he said.
“That’d be you,” I said.
“Maybe you boys don’t take it serious, but I’m here to tell you that we do.”
“ ‘ We’?” Virgil said.
“Everybody,” Cates said. “I got a proposal for you.”
Virgil didn’t say anything. If Cates minded that, it didn’t show.
“My shotgun lookout works ’bout twelve hours a day,” Cates said. “He needs a break.”
“Any law in town?” Virgil said.
“Never needed none,” Cates said.
Virgil nodded.
“Like to hire you to sit shotgun,” Cates said. “Couple hours a day is all, start of the evenin’.”
“Draw a crowd?” I said.
“Sure would,” Cates said. “The great Virgil Cole? Sitting shotgun in Los Lobos? Good gracious. It would put this whole damned town on the map.”
“And make you some money,” I said.
“Sure would; why I want to do it. But what’s good for me is good for the town, and the other way around as well.”
“How much,” Virgil said.
“Give you a dollar a day,” Cates said.
“Each,” Virgil said.
“You and Everett?” Cates said.
“Uh-huh.”
Cates looked at the bar, which was two deep now with people drinking and watching Virgil. He looked at me and back at Virgil. Then he nodded.
“Done,” he said.
He went into his pocket and took out two silver dollars and put them on the table.
“First day in advance,” he said.
Virgil picked up the coins and gave one to me.
“Don’t know how long I’ll be in town,” he said.
“Long as you’re here, the deal stands,” Cates said.
“I’m looking for a woman,” Virgil said.
Cates grinned and waved his hand toward the back of the saloon.
“Take your pick,” he said.
“Woman named Allison French,” Virgil said.
“Can’t say I know her,” Cates said.
“Sings,” Virgil said. “Plays the piano.”
“In saloons?” Cates said.
“Yep.”
“Lotta saloons in town,” Cates said. “I can ask around.”
“Do,” Cole said.
3
WE TOOK A ROOM in the Grande Palace Hotel, which was not accurately named, and agreed to live on Virgil’s dollar a day and save mine for when we moved on. During Virgil’s shift on lookout, I sat around Los Lobos and observed. During the day we strolled around the ugly little bare-board town and asked about Allie.
“When’s the last time you did a lookout job?” I said to Virgil after the first night.
“Sorta helped you out a year ago up in Resolution,” he said.
“But when did you actually earn money at it?” I said.
“ ’Fore I met you,” Virgil said.
“Close to twenty years,” I said.
