27

WE LEFT the Golden Palace and turned up Main Street. Virgil was sitting where we sat, in front of the Boston House. He stood as we came toward him. There was nothing sudden in the movement. He was seated. Then he wasn’t. I’d never seen Virgil hurry, except that everything he did, he seemed to do it before anyone else.

“Virgil Cole?” Teagarden said.

“Yep.”

“Chauncey Teagarden.”

Virgil nodded. Neither man put his hand out.

“You was up in Telford,” Virgil said.

“Indeed,” Teagarden said.

“Osage County War,” Virgil said.

Teagarden nodded.

“Pleasure,” Teagarden said.

“Likewise,” Virgil said.

Since they had come in sight, each had looked exclusively at the other.

“Not doing law work,” Teagarden said.

“Nope.”

“You and Hitch keeping order in some saloons,” Teagarden said.

“Yep.”

Then Teagarden nodded slightly.

“Well, I’m glad I got to meet you,” Teagarden said. “The great Virgil Cole.”

Virgil didn’t comment.

“Maybe see you again,” Teagarden said.

“Maybe,” Virgil said.

Teagarden turned and walked off down Main Street. Virgil watched him go.

“Says he’s just drifting,” I said.

“He ain’t just drifting,” Virgil said.

“Here on business?”

“He’s here to kill somebody.”

“You now that,” I said.

“It’s what he does,” Virgil said.

“Why’d he want to see you?”

Virgil smiled.

“So he’d know what I looked like,” Virgil said.

“You think it’s you?” I said.

“I don’t think he was just being neighborly,” Virgil said.

“Anything personal?” I said.

“Chauncey Teagarden? Hell, no. He got no feelings. Somebody hired him.”

“We know who that would be,” I said.

“Probably,” Virgil said.

“We gonna do anything about it?” I said.

“We’ll await developments,” Virgil said.

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