A tall man wearing a new black hat emerged from the screen of bushes just in front of them.
He was the Big Navajo who had been shopping in Shoemaker's. In his right hand he held a machine pistol, pointed approximately at McKee's stomach. It was of shiny, gunmetal blue-something which would have reflected in the moonlight.
'That's right,' the man said. 'Just stand still.'
He walked across the rocks toward them, keeping his eyes on McKee.
The pistol, McKee saw, had a wire stock, now folded down, and a long cartridge magazine extending downward from the chamber.
'You're Bergen McKee,' the man said. 'And the young lady would be Ellen Leon.'
McKee pulled Miss Leon's arm, moving her behind him.
'What do you want?'
The man smiled at McKee. It was a pleasant smile. And the face was pleasant. A long, raw-boned Navajo face, with heavy eyebrows and a generous mouth. McKee saw he wore short braids, tied with red cord.
'Just the pleasure of your company for a while,' the big man said. 'But right now I want you to take that hand out of your shirt front, very, very slowly.'
McKee pulled out the hand.
'Well,' the man said. 'I see I've been too suspicious.' He smiled again. 'That's quite a finger.'
McKee said nothing.
'Now, I'll have you put your hands against that tree.' He flicked the long barrel of the pistol toward the trunk of a pinon. 'Lean against it while I see what you have in those pockets. And, Ellen, you stand over here where I can watch you.'
The man stood behind McKee and searched him deftly. He pulled out the cans of meat and dropped them, took the pickup keys and his billfold, ran his hand quickly around McKee's belt line and patted his shirt. Then the hand was gone, but the voice came from directly behind him.
'You will hold that position until I finish checking Miss Leon's possessions. I don't want any movement at all. I don't have to tell you that I will use this pistol.'
'No,' Bergen said glumly. 'You don't.'
He heard the voice telling Miss Leon to hold her arms out. McKee looked back over his shoulder.
The blow was so sudden and vicious that he dropped to his knees and huddled against the pain of it. The man had jabbed him, full strength, above the kidney with the muzzle of the pistol.
'You didn't pay attention to what I said,' he heard the man saying. 'I said not to move. But now you can get up.'
McKee pulled himself to his feet. He had hurt his finger again and his hand throbbed violently. He saw Miss Leon looking at him, her face very white. The man was looking at him too, still smiling slightly. He wore a black shirt and denims tucked into the tops of his boots.
'You know, I almost missed you again,' the man said. He stopped smiling. 'You've been a hell of a lot of trouble. When we have a little time I want you to tell me how you got away from me last night at your camp. That's been puzzling me.' The man stopped a moment, staring at McKee.
'I think I know why I didn't catch you at my tree. You were farther down the canyon than I thought you could be and you heard the winch. Didn't you?'
'That's right,' McKee said.
'I almost waited there too long,' the man said. 'You were smart enough to run, but then you gave away your advantage. I wonder why you waited for me here.' He looked at McKee thoughtfully. 'You could have made me hunt you another day,' he said. 'Why did you stop? Did you give up?'
McKee didn't look at Miss Leon.
'We didn't think anyone would know where we were.'
The Navajo laughed. He seemed genuinely amused. 'If you didn't know this was the only way out, I had some luck with you.'
'Who the hell are you?' McKee asked. 'And what do you want with us?'
'Let's go now. You will walk a little ahead and do as you're told.'
He turned the machine pistol sideways, and tapped the safety button beside the trigger guard.
'I carry it cocked, with the safety
'I'll bet you are,' McKee said.
The man kept well behind them as they walked past the brush and over the rocks. McKee walked silently, trying to think.
Miss Leon touched his arm. 'I'm sorry.' Her voice was very small.
'Nothing to be sorry for.'
'If I hadn't been so stupid,' she whispered. 'I thought it was because you had hurt your head.'
'What else could you think? It still seems crazy.'
'I'm sorry. You could have gotten away.'
