Blue-Eyed Devil

30

LAW IN RESOLUTION was still Cato and Rose. Frank Rose was a big, showy guy with a handlebar mustache and two pearl-handled Colts. Cato Tillson was small with droopy eyes and a sharp nose. He carried one Colt, with a dark walnut handle. They were both good with Colts. Cato maybe a little better.

“Fella we know got a small place outside of town,” Rose said. “Your Indians are sleeping in his hayloft.”

“Ain’t mine,” Virgil said. “And Pony’s a breed.”

“Well, they ain’t give us no trouble,” Rose said.

We were in the Blackfoot Saloon, sitting at a round table in the rear, sipping whiskey. Whatever the conversation, as they sat together, Virgil and Cato Tillson always eyed each other. No hostility, just a kind of professional carefulness.

“Anybody else know that?” Virgil said.

“Sure,” Rose said. “You used to be here. Town’s still ’bout the size of a corncrib.”

“There’s a bounty on them,” I said.

“Didn’t know that,” Rose said. “You know that, Cato?”

“Nope.”

“Make a difference?” Virgil said.

Rose looked at Cato. Cato shrugged.

“Not to us,” Rose said. “Might to some folks.”

“Police chief in Appaloosa probably knows, by now, that they’re here,” I said.

“He gonna come after them?”

“Probably will,” Virgil said.

“He’s the law in Appaloosa,” Rose said.

Virgil said, “Yep.”

“We the law here,” Cato said.

Virgil nodded.

“Bounty hunters out?” Rose said.

Virgil nodded again.

“Might be some Pinkertons, too,” he said.

“Might have to hire us couple of deputies,” Rose said. “Fellas with experience, say, like you boys.”

“Could arrest them,” Cato said.

“Cole’s Indian?” Rose said.

“Can’t make us give up our prisoners,” Cato said.

“’Course they can’t,” Rose said.

Virgil shook his head.

“Indian won’t go for it,” he said.

“The breed’s brother?” Rose said.

Virgil nodded.

“He won’t go to jail,” Rose said.

Virgil shook his head.

“We leave the cell unlocked,” Cato said.

“He won’t,” Virgil said.

“Don’t make no sense,” Rose said. “You think Virgil’s right, Everett?”

“Might be,” I said. “Often is.”

“Well,” Rose said. “Let’s go talk to them. They don’t want to come in, least we can give them a running start.”

“Maybe they don’t want to run,” Virgil said.

Rose looked at Cato again, and leaned back a little in his chair and smiled.

“They want to stay and fight,” Rose said. “The least we can do is offer them some high-priced backup.”