Blue-Eyed Devil

39

VIRGIL AND I were sipping corn whiskey on Virgil’s veranda when we looked up and Pony was there, soundlessly sitting his horse in the shadows.

“They are here,” he said.

“Where?” Virgil said.

“Hills, south, near water falling,” Pony said.

Virgil glanced at me.

“Squaw Falls,” I said. “Couple hours’ ride.”

“Who’s out that way?” Virgil said.

“Compton McCaslin, works the place with his two sons,” I said.

“Any hands?” Virgil said.

“Nope.”

“Women?”

“Wife of one of the sons,” I said.

“They will kill men,” Pony said. “Burn ranch. Rape woman, and send her into town.”

Pony looked up at the moon in the black sky.

“Probably happen by now,” he said.

“Maybe Callico can send some people out to bring the other settlers in,” Virgil said.

“Kah-to-nay like that,” Pony said.

“Because it will split up the white-eye force,” Virgil said.

“Pick off some, make more come,” Pony said. “Good both ways.”

“You think he’s watching the town?” I said.

“Yes.”

“He know you’re here?” Virgil said.

“No.”

“You’re sure?” I said.

Pony looked at me.

“You’re sure,” I said.

I looked at Virgil.

“Can’t save everybody,” I said.

“You can’t,” he said. “Pony, you staying.”

“I stay,” Pony said.

“How you want to play it with your brother?” Virgil said.

“Get him away, before he killed,” Pony said.

“How you want us to play it?” Virgil said.

“Same, if you can. If you can’t, you have to do what you do.”

“Everett,” Virgil said. “Time for you to ride on up to General Laird’s and collect Chauncey Teagarden. Tell the general he might want to put some pickets out, too.”