Cato Tillson rode down the hill and into camp, hazing two riderless horses ahead of him.
"Figure it’ll confuse ’em a little,” Cato said, “if the horses don’t come back.”
“Spoils of war,” Rose said.
Cato nodded and dismounted.
“You know how to take care of horses?” Virgil said to Redmond.
“’Course,” Redmond said.
“Then take care of these,” Virgil said.
Redmond looked sorta sullen about it, but he took the reins and led both horses off. The rest of the men drifted away. It was like Cato made them uneasy.
“Odds are improvin’,” Virgil said. “You give them a chance.”
“Yep,” Cato said. “Called ’em out.”
“What I hear,” Virgil said, “that ain’t much of a chance.”
“It ain’t,” Cato said.
“Didn’t expect it would be,” Virgil said.
“There was two of ’em,” Rose said.
“Ain’t being critical,” Virgil said, “just thinking about it.”
“What’s to think?” Rose said. “Cato’s maybe the best I ever seen at this. He’s supposed to slow down?”
“Nope.”
“We’re all good at this,” Rose said. “Most fellas go up against any one of us in a fair fight, they ain’t got much of a chance.”
“So the fight ain’t exactly fair anyway,” Virgil said.
“No,” I said. “It ain’t. Never was.”
Virgil nodded and walked a little distance away and looked silently into the woods. Redmond came back to the lumber office.
“How come you didn’t bring them bodies down with you,” Redmond said to Cato.
“Why?” Cato said.
Virgil turned when he heard Redmond.
“Them horses taken care of?” he said.
“Unsaddled ’em myself,” Redmond said. “Fed ’em. Gave ’em water.”
Virgil nodded.
“My older boy’s currying them now,” Redmond said.
Virgil nodded.
“Cato left them bodies up there,” Virgil said, “so that by the time Lujack and his people found them, they’d be a mess.”
“That ain’t Christian,” Redmond said.
“That’s true,” Virgil said. “But a body left out for the sun and the buzzards and such to work on it ain’t a pretty thing to find. Lujack’s posse might find it discouraging when they do.”
“My God,” Redmond said. “You people actually think like that.”
Cato had gone into the office and gotten himself some coffee. He came out in time to hear Redmond’s question, and he smiled faintly to himself and sat on the step and blew on the surface of the coffee, which was still too hot to drink. Virgil looked at me. I nodded and took a big breath and let it out.
“It ain’t how we think,” I said to Redmond. “It’s how we are. You unnerstand? It’s why we can do what we do. You ain’t like that. Most people aren’t. No reason to be. But we are, and what you need right now is people like us.”
Redmond nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “We do.”