at the base of Cloud-Stopper Mountain.'
Both men were silent for some time, listening while the coyotes and dogs passed another series of greetings back and forth, sharing the night in a way not unlike the two men sharing their wild tobacco.
'Is it possible that the spirits of the dead Apaches invaded this Mil-gahn's spirit, making him Ohbsgam, so he is Apachelike without being Apache?'
'Yes,' Looks At Nothing agreed, impressed by Fat Crack's intuition.
'Is it possible that this other man is out of jail?'
'After six years,' Fat Crack replied, 'it's possible.'
'We must find out.'
'I know the detective,' Fat Crack said. 'I met him. He was with the boy's mother when she came to the hospital last night. Perhaps he will help us.'' 'You will speak to him at once,' Looks At Nothing ordered.
'All right,' Fat Crack nodded. 'Tomorrow. When we go to see the priest, I will also speak to the detective.'
'Good,' the medicine man said. 'That's good.'
Evidently, the council was finished, because Looks At Nothing snuffed out his cigarette and stood up. 'It is late.
We should get some rest. Come for me at my camp beside the trees in the morning. We will go together to Chuk Shon.'
Fat Crack stood up as well. One of his feet had fallen asleep. He almost fell.
'Wait, old man. I'll go get the truck and give you a ride.
'No,' Looks At Nothing said. 'Show me where the road is. I can find my way from there.'
They flew Toby Walker to Tucson Medical Center in a helicopter.
Meanwhile, Hank Maddern and Brandon Walker tried to deal with the problem of the Pima County sheriff's car. Initially, the Cochise County detectives were determined to impound it. Eventually, though, after a late night sheriff-to-sheriff call, it was decided to let Brandon take it back to Tucson. Even when committed by an elderly father, joy-riding was, after all, nothing but a misdemeanor.
'This isn't the last we're going to hear about this,' Maddem warned as he helped siphon gas into the bone-dry Galaxy. 'DuShane's going to be pissed as hell about this, and he'll make your life miserable. You'll wind up directing traffic at the Pima County Fairgrounds before he's through.'
Brandon thought about his unconscious father, helpless and strapped to the stretcher, being loaded into the waiting helicopter. The medics said it looked like a massive stroke.
'Let him do his worst,' Brandon said. 'Who gives a shit?'
'Good boy,' Maddern told him. 'Don't let the turkeys get you down.'
Using siphoned gas, they got as far as Benson, where they filled up both vehicles. 'You turn on your lights and get your ass to the hospital,' Maddern ordered. 'I'll pick up your mother on the way and meet you there as soon as we can.'
'Thanks,' Brandon said.
He appreciated having a little extra time before facing his mother. No doubt Louella Walker would take the position that her son had failed again, as usual. Regardless of what happened, Louella could always twist it into being his fault.
Brandon found Toby Walker in the intensive-care unit hooked up to a bank of machines. The doctor he spoke to was grave.
'Don't get your hopes up,' he said.- 'The next twenty-four hours are critical. We're dealing with not only a severe stroke, but also a severe sunburn. He's badly dehydrated. What was your father doing out in the desert alone like that?'
'He was going to Duluth,' Brandon said.
'Duluth? That's in Minnesota.'
'I know,' Brandon replied, 'but that's where he told the gas-station attendant he was going in nothing but a pair of pajamas.'
'Your father was senile then?' the doctor asked.
'How could he be? He's not that old.'
'You'd be surprised,' the doctor said. 'We're seeing more and more cases like this all the time. They seem to be getting younger instead of older. Even without the stroke, you'd soon find he wouldn't be able to care for himself.'
'And with it?'
'It's not good,' the doctor said, shaking his head. 'Not good at all.'
He walked away just as Louella surged into the room on Hank Maddem's arm and rushed up to Brandon. 'How is he?' she demanded. 'Can I see him?'
Brandon nodded. 'You can see him once every hour for five minutes at a time.'
'Tell me. Is he going to be all right?'
'Of course, Mom,' Brandon told her. 'He's going to be fine.'
