Chee had lost sight of Grayson again. He turned away from the poetry of the chant to look for him. When the time was right, he wanted to know exactly where he could find the man. He wanted Grayson close. And Grayson was close. He had simply moved a little nearer the hogan. But he was still keeping himself where Margaret Sosi couldn't see him—or so it seemed to Chee. It also seemed to Chee that Margaret Sosi would hardly notice him. She had drunk the steaming emetic now and was staring at the east. She was supposed to vomit just as the red first rim of the sun was visible on the horizon. It was apparent from the strained look on her face that her inclination was to vomit instantly. But there, suddenly, was the rim of the sun. It was time to use his one advantage.
Chee hurried through the onlookers to Grayson and grabbed him by the elbow.
'Leroy,' he said. 'Trouble.'
'What?' Grayson looked startled.
'Vaggan is here,' Chee said. 'Big blond man who's a killer for McNair. He's got his van parked out there.'
'Vaggan?' Grayson said. 'My God.'
'He must be waiting until this is over. Until the crowd breaks up. Or he's waiting for you to leave and he'll follow you.'
'Yeah,' Grayson said. He looked suitably nervous.
'There's another way out of here,' Chee said. 'On past this place, the road winds down the other side of the mesa. It's bad but it's passable.'
Around them the spectators were laughing and clapping. Margaret Sosi had gotten rid of her evil and was returned to
'Just turn left where Yellow's drive comes off the road and keep driving. I'll get Margaret and follow you.'
'Left,' Grayson said. 'Okay.'
He ran for his car. Chee hurried through the crowd to Margaret Sosi. She was talking to an old woman, with Littleben standing beside her.
'Come on,' Chee said. 'Vaggan is here. We've got to run.'
Margaret Sosi looked puzzled. With the ghost blacking washed away, she also looked pale. 'Vaggan?'
'The big man back in L.A. Remember? The one who pretended to be a cop. The one who hit me.'
'Oh,' Margaret Sosi said. She hurried along with him. 'Good-by. Good-by. And thank you.'
Grayson's Chevy was roaring down the track away from the Yellow place. Chee started his pickup, backed it around in a flurry of dust, and roared down the track. At the bottom of the arroyo, he slid the pickup to a stop, shifted into low gear, and edged it carefully up the wash, banging and slamming over the rocks and scraping through the thickets of mountain mahogany and chamiza that flourished in the stream bottom. When he was far enough from the track to be out of sight he turned off the engine. Margaret Sosi was looking at him, the question on her face.
He had time enough to explain it all to her, because now there was nothing to do but wait…
'And so,' Chee concluded, 'I told the guy who's pretending to be Gorman that I'd spotted Vaggan, and I told him to make a run for it on a road down the other side of the mesa, and I told him you and I would follow. He drove right off, but where he'll go is to tell Vaggan we've seen him, and that we're running.'
'But when he goes after us—' Margaret Sosi began.
'We give him time to do that, and then we run ourselves.'
'But why didn't we just go down the other side?'
'The road doesn't go anywhere. That's what they told me at the police station. It wanders around a little up here and turns into wagon tracks. But there's no other way down off the mesa; just back the way we came. The only way down is right past where Vaggan is parked.'
'Oh,' Margaret Sosi said. 'Okay.'
They sat in silence.
'How long do we wait?'
Exactly the question in Chee's mind. Chee had counted four of the seven vehicles that had been parked at the Yellow place passing on the track behind them. Now track and road were silent. The other three, he guessed, must be staying for breakfast and a visit. He had to allow enough time for Grayson to reach the old hogan, and give Vaggan the word, and for them to drive back past Yellow's turnoff. More than that was time wasted—because it probably would not take Vaggan long to realize the road was playing out into nothing. But less than that would be fatal. Chee had no illusions about the outcome of any shooting match between his pistol and Vaggan's automatic weapon.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to estimate time elapsed and match it with Vaggan's actions.
'About now, I think.' He started the engine again and bumped the pickup backward down the arroyo floor. At the intersection, nothing was in sight on the road in either direction. He had allowed a little more time than necessary, which meant pursuit would be a little quicker than it might have been. He roared down the rutted dirt.
