the white man has been to the red man and how we should bend over backward for them and give them all the land they want and feed them and clothe them, you see yourself as different from them. As
“That is absurd.”
“Is it?” Durn countered. “You want to save the squaws I have working for me but you are too good to share their fate.”
“It is a fearful end for anyone,” Sally said.
“Do you live in the same world I do?” Durn asked. “The one where those heathen savages you care so much about go around killing and raping and mutilating?”
“The Flatheads have not acted up in years,” Sally countered. “You can’t blame them or any of the other tribes in the region for what happened to your parents.”
“Watch me,” Durn declared heatedly. He ushered them around to the far side of the pit and told them to sit. “It will be a while yet, and you look haggard, my former dear.”
Sally slumped down, her blond locks spilling over her face.
Lowering to her side, Fargo said softly so the others wouldn’t hear, “Snap out of it. We aren’t dead yet.”
“But we will be,” Sally said, nearly in tears. “What chance do we have, unarmed and defenseless, against a wolverine?”
“No chance at all if we give up before they throw us in the pit,” Fargo criticized her.
Big Mike was huddled with Kutler and Tork. At length Durn and the small firebrand left, leaving Kutler and the rest to guard them. Kutler promptly strolled over, smiling happily.
“I want to thank you.”
“For what?” Sally asked.
“Big Mike is so glad to finally be rid of your lover,” Kutler said, nodding at Fargo, “that he is passing out free bottles tonight. It will be the best blood and guts yet.”
“The what?”
“Blood and guts. It is what we call the feeding frenzy. That damned wolverine about goes berserk.”
Sally averted her face. “Please, Mr. Kutler. I would rather not hear the gory details.”
“Hell, that’s nothing,” Kutler said. “I have seen that critter shred flesh to ribbons and tear a throat open clear to the jugular. It about turned my stomach watching him the first two or three times, but after that I got into the spirit of things.”
“You are despicable, and Mike Durn is worse,” Sally said flatly. “How you can live with yourself, I can’t imagine.”
“At least we will be breathing after tonight, which is more than I can say about you and your lover.”
“That makes twice you have called him that,” Sally said. “It is not entirely accurate.”
“He poked you, didn’t he?” Kutler leered.
Fargo was interested in an hombre over by the pit. Unless he was mistaken, that was his Colt in the man’s holster.
“Must you be so crude?” Sally was asking. “Haven’t I always treated you with courtesy?”
Kutler squatted a few yards away and placed his hand on his bowie. “I wouldn’t call looking down your nose a courtesy. The airs you put on have not won you many friends.”
“I have friends,” Sally said. “In Cheyenne. In Denver. In a lot of places. Some of them will wonder when they don’t hear from me. They will report me missing, and a marshal will pay Polson a visit.”
“That is fine by us. Big Mike already has the story we will tell worked out.” Kutler chuckled. “You sold your store and moved to California. All of us even helped load your wagon.”
“That is an outright lie. No one will believe it.”
“Sure they will,” Kutler said. “Especially since there are people, myself being one of them who will swear on a stack of Bibles that you were always talking about moving to California one day.”
Uttering a low moan, Sally bowed her head.
Kutler grinned at Fargo. “Pitiful, isn’t she? You would think that at her age she would know it is dog eat dog.”
“She is learning.”
“I am right here!” Sally said. “I resent your talking about me as if I am some sort of simpleton.”
“You are,” Kutler said. “Or you would not have bucked Big Mike Durn. As stupid goes, that is at the top of the tree.”
A sudden burst of noise from the tunnel caused Sally to cringe and Kutler to cackle with glee.
“Hear that, missy? They are on their way. If you and your lover have any last prayers you want to say, now is the time to say them.”
19
They were laughing and gay—and drinking. Bottles were passed from hand to hand and chugged like water. A number of Polson’s residents mingled with Durn’s lawless crew, among them a few white women. Also present, which Fargo did not expect, were the Indian women in forced servitude to Durn. He found out why when Durn cleared his throat and raised his arms to get everyone’s attention.
“Tonight is a special night for me. I get rid of a thorn in my side.” Durn pointed at Fargo. “I shed baggage I am better off without.” He pointed at Sally Brook. “And I show you squaws what happens to those who defy me.” He swept an arm at the knot of maidens, who stood off by themselves.
“Enough jawing!” an already drunk Polsonite bawled. “Let the festivities commence!”
“They will shortly,” Big Mike assured him. “But first you are forgetting something.”
The man blinked stupidly. “I am?”
“There won’t be any festivities, as you call them, without our furry guest of honor.” Durn motioned again, and half a dozen of his men hastened into the tunnel.
Fargo and Sally were to Durn’s right, covered by Kutler and five others who had their guns leveled and cocked. As Kutler had put it, “One wrong twitch and we will throw you in the pit without a knee or an elbow.”
Sally’s hands were pressed to her bosom and she was breathing as if each breath might be her last. “What are we to do?” she mewed as the men ran off to fetch the most widely feared creature on the frontier.
“We don’t give up,” Fargo said.
“That is easy for you to suggest but not so easy to practice,” Sally said forlornly, and dabbed at a tear forming in a corner of an eye. “Oh, Skye. I thought I was strong but I was wrong. I don’t want to die.”
“Who does?”
“I am so scared I could soil myself. More scared than I have ever been in my whole life.”
“I will need your help when the time comes,” Fargo said.
“I don’t see what use I can be,” Sally responded. “We can’t fight the thing. Hands and feet are no match for teeth and claws.”
“You might be surprised.” Fargo noticed Tork give him a look that suggested the end could not come soon enough to suit him. Fargo smiled at him and he flushed red.
“How can you be so calm?” Sally asked, wringing her hands. “A person would think you were fed to wild beasts all the time.”
“When you have survived Apaches, sandstorms, and blizzards,” Fargo said, “a wolverine is no more than a nuisance.” He was trying to get her to relax but she was too overwrought.
“How can you jest at a time like this? I am telling you, my blood is water. My legs are shaking so bad, if I try to take a step I will collapse.”
Kutler heard her, and said, “Don’t worry on that score, missy. You won’t need to walk to the pit. We will carry you over and throw you in.”
“Doesn’t it bother you, being so unspeakably evil?” Sally retorted.
