“It’s not him so much,” Allie said. “It’s that brother. I don’t like him. I don’t like the way he looks at me. And you know Laurel and Indians. Poor child won’t even look at him.”
“Ain’t afraid of Pony,” Virgil said.
“He ain’t all Indian,” Allie said.
Virgil stood and walked to Laurel’s chair.
“You afraid of Kha-to-nay?” Virgil said, and bent down to her.
She whispered in his ear. He nodded and whispered back to her. She whispered again. Virgil smiled.
“Says she is scared of Kha-to-nay,” he said. “But she knows Pony won’t let him hurt her.”
“Mrs. Callico invited me to have tea with her sometime,” Allie said.
“That’s nice,” Virgil said.
“We live here,” Allie said. “We own a house. It is my chance to have a regular life, Virgil.”
“Sure,” Virgil said. “I want that for you, Allie.”
“Then get rid of Pony,” she said. “And his brother.” Virgil shook his head. Laurel made a sound. All of us looked at her. It might have been the first sound she’d made since we got her. She made the sound again and shook her head violently.
Allie began to cry.
“Nobody understands,” she said. “Nobody understands me.”
“We do,” Virgil said. “All of us know you want to be a fine churchgoing lady. And all of us know that being friendly with a breed carries a knife in his moccasin don’t help that.”
Allie looked up with tears on her face.
“Then send him away,” Allie said.
Laurel made her noise again.
“Can’t,” Virgil said.
Allie stood with her hands covering her face and her shoulders shaking, and rushed into the house.
Virgil looked at me silently for a minute.
Then he said, “Know them long walks we was talking about you and Laurel taking?”
“I do,” I said.
“Don’t think there’ll be so much need for ’em right now,” Virgil said.
14
IT WAS MORNING. There was a CLOSED sign on the door to the Boston House saloon. Virgil and I sat at a big round table in the back of the saloon. With us sat Lamar Speck, Buford Posner, and five other men. The room was otherwise empty. Except for Willis McDonough, who was setting up the bar. Outside, the rain that had made things fresh yesterday was making things soggy today.
“This is a private meeting,” Speck said. “What we talk about here doesn’t leave the room. Anybody don’t understand that?”
Nobody said they didn’t.
“This here’s Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch,” Speck said.
“You all know who they are and what they do. They done it for me, and you know what happened at Buford’s place this week.
“Boys,” Speck continued, “everybody at the table owns a saloon, or similar public place. Buford, you know, owns the Golden Palace.”
He introduced us around the table, and identified each man with his business.
“All us got the same problem,” Speck said. “And we thought you boys might be able to help us.”
Speck shifted in his chair and studied the backs of his hands for a moment. Virgil and I waited.
“It’s Callico,” Speck said.
He looked around the table. No one fainted. Speck glanced at the front door of the saloon. No one came in.
“He charges something he calls a ‘safeguard fee.’ We pay him regular, and when there’s trouble the police will come at once and put things right.”
“And if you don’t pay him regular?” Virgil said.
“They don’t come,” Speck said.
Virgil looked at me and smiled faintly.
“Fee a big one?” I said.
“Substantial,” Speck said.
“Thinking you could get the same service for less?” I said.
“Yes,” Speck said. “We been talking ’bout that, seein’ as you boys done it twice already.”
“’Cause you wouldn’t pay Callico’s safeguard money,” Virgil said.
“Yes, Buford and I agreed it was extortion, and refused to pay.”
“Which is why you had to hire us when Nicky Laird run off your shotgun lookout.”
“Yes. And it’s why I brought Buford to you. And it’s why all of us are here now. We all chip in. We post them rules of yours in our establishments. You’ll be here, and if there’s any trouble anyplace, they’ll send for you, and you come running. We get safety. You get money.”
“There enough trouble?” Virgil said. “We come cheaper than Callico. But we ain’t cheap.”
“We’ll guarantee you a year,” Speck said. “There’s enough trouble. More since you left. More since the police stopped showing up. And more as the town gets bigger. And more since General Laird took over Bragg’s place.”
“He the Lazy L?” I said.
“He is,” Speck said. “But Nicky mostly runs it.”
“Couple things to think about,” Virgil said.
“I know we can meet your price,” Speck said.
Everybody at the table agreed.
“Good,” Virgil said. “’Nother thing is, Everett and me do this, sooner or later we gonna have to kill somebody.”
Nobody said anything.
“Anybody care ’bout that?” Virgil said.
Speck looked at the other men around the table, then at Virgil. No one appeared to care.
“You boys should do what you need to do,” he said. Virgil nodded slowly and looked at me.
“Everett?” he said.
“Not like we got something else to do,” I said.
Virgil kept nodding. He looked back at Speck.
“Okay,” he said.
Later we sat on the front porch of the Boston House admiring the rainwashed air.
“Smells nice after it rains,” Virgil said.
“Um-hm.”
Virgil tilted his chair onto its back two legs and allowed it to balance there, its back resting against the hotel wall.
“You thinking?” he said.
“Yep.”
“’Bout Callico?” Virgil said.
“Yep.”
Virgil nodded. He allowed the chair to rock slightly on its rear legs, the back tapping lightly against the wall.
“Me, too,” he said.
“Ain’t gonna like us taking away his safeguard business,” I said.
“True,” Virgil said.
“We kill somebody, be his chance to come after us.”
“Might,” Virgil said.
“Other hand,” I said. “If Stringer’s right, Callico’s after bigger things when statehood comes.”
“So, he might not want to open up the fee question,” Virgil said.
“Might not,” I said.
“Guess we just proceed,” Virgil said. “See what comes along.”
15
VIRGIL AND I took to sitting out on the porch in front of the Boston House, the way we used to sit on the porch outside the jail, when we were the law in Appaloosa. Mostly we sat and watched the life on Main Street. It was handy to everybody we were supposed to be protecting. It was pleasant, especially since Appaloosa hadn’t been all that rambunctious since we signed on. And now and then, Tilda would come out of the saloon to pour us some coffee.
“Appears to be a parade,” Virgil said.
I looked down Main Street and saw Amos Callico coming up the street with six policemen carrying Winchesters. The policemen stopped in the street and formed a semicircle facing Virgil and me.
“No drum,” I said to Virgil.
“Too bad,” Virgil said.
Callico came up the steps and sat next to Virgil on the porch.
“You boys are costing me money,” he said softly.
“I believe we are,” Virgil said.
“I want it back,” Callico said.
“I would, too,” Virgil said. “I was you.”
“I want you boys gone by Sunday,” Callico said.
Virgil shook his head.
“You’re telling me no?” Callico said.
“I am,” Virgil said.
“You’re here after Sunday, we’ll kill you first time we see you.”
“That sound legal to you, Everett?” Virgil said.