The jailer nodded. "I know what you mean."
When Danaher came in Frye was shaving in front of a mirror propped on the desk. He was sitting on the edge of the chair and turned to look at Danaher as he entered.
"How was yours?" Danaher asked.
"Well, I didn't get the red carpet."
"Maybe you should have done that first." Danaher nodded to the razor.
"I needed more than a clean face."
"Ten years from now you and Mil will think back on this and you might even smile."
"How did you do?"
"The ladies were obliged to greet me with cold stony eyes and expressions that would've cracke d like china had you touched them."
"How'd you expect them to treat you?"
"Kirby, I never expect anything."
"Yes sir," Frye said, not knowing, or caring, how Danaher would take it.
"You need sleep," Danaher said.
He wanted to say it again, because he was suddenly near the end of his patience. Yes sir--something a kid would say in a tone all of its own, thinking he was smart. He realized this, and hel d on; and moving the razor down his jaw line slowly , he said, "John you want to get something to ea t first?"
They went to the Metropolitan and throughout the meal they spoke little. Once, Danaher said , "You feel all alone now, don't you?" and thi s stayed on Frye's mind even after they left the cafe.
Maybe Danaher could read his thoughts--like when he was hiring him for the job after the Galluro thing. At the boardinghouse they bathed and went to bed, but before falling asleep Frye thought: He was talking from experience. Danaher feels alone too. And that was some consolation. Enoug h to let him fall asleep almost right away.
In the evening they ate at the Metropolitan again. Haig Hanasian served them and at the en d of the meal he leaned close to Frye and said, "If yo u go out again, I would look upon it as a privilege t o be along."
"We're not sure we will."
"Just if you do."
They returned to the jail office to smoke and theorize now. They would wait for Sundeen's move, but they could be thinking while they waited.
Harold brought a bottle and glasses and in the semi-darkness they sipped whisky and talked unti l late.
Probably Sundeen had taken them across the border. That was logical; that made more sens e than anything else. Still, Sundeen was not a ma n who lived by his reason. Frye remembered Danaher's words earlier in the day, "I never expect anything." That was the way to consider Sundeen.
Don't say, "He probably did this." You'll find out he did the opposite.
So they didn't take for granted that Sundeen crossed the border. And the more they though t about it, the stronger the possibility was that h e had not.
"He could even swing back this way," Danaher said, "to see what happened to Digo. He coul d even have in mind raising a fighting force. He's bullheaded enough."
"What about Tindal and Stedman talking him into giving up?" Frye suggested.
"Not a chance."
"They could circle up to Tucson and turn themselves over to Judge Finnerty."
"I don't think so."
"Digo talked him into running when he was set against it."
Danaher nodded thoughtfully. "That's right."
"Maybe he's not the stone wall we give him credit for," Frye said.
"But you can't predict the bastard. That's the trouble."
They were in the office again the next morning, Danaher having decided to return to Tucson sinc e there was nothing to do but wait, and he was getting ready to go when Ford Goss rode in. Ford looked drained; as if he'd been riding all night.
He swung off, seeing them standing in the doorway, and the first thing he said was, "Dandy caught their sign!"
They rode southeast from Randado, Ford Goss showing the way, his saddle on a fresh mount an d Ford in it again after a rest that lasted only as lon g as it took to drink a cup of coffee and eat a plate o f meat and beans. He was bone tired, but he staye d in the saddle and followed his own trail withou t any trouble, without even thinking about it, because this was not something new. He couldn't count the number of watches he'd stood over a night herd, then stayed in the saddle the whole nex t day until sundown. It was part of a riding job.
At their first rest, Ford related the details of finding Sundeen's trail. How they had ridden south from La Noria and swung east along the border fo r half a day without seeing a track of any kind. Mer l said maybe they crossed during the rain; but mayb e they didn't go over the border after all, and tha t was worth checking. So they started bearing nort h in a wide circle. West was open country, but northeast from La Noria were the Huachucas and that way made more sense. By midafternoon they ha d picked up four tracks bearing more to the east , Dandy Jim spotting the hoof marks no white ma n could have. They followed. At a waterhole farthe r on they found two cigarette stubs and there th e tracks of four horses were unmistakable. Then luc k hit them right in the face. "Good luck that onl y comes from living right," Ford said. An hour fro m the waterhole they came across two Tonto-Mojav e women dressing down a buck. The women tol d Dandy Jim they had watched from a distance as a party of white men shot the buck and took it s hindquarters. Now they were only taking what ha d been left. Dandy asked them what the men looke d like. They described each man--and then there wa s no longer any doubt. That evening when the y camped, they matched to see who was going to rid e all night to Randado. Ford lost.
Danaher was along with his six men--Danaher riding easily for a big man, unconcernedly, a ciga r clamped in the corner of his mouth.
Frye and Haig Hanasian rode side by side most of the time. Frye slouched in the saddle, hi s straight hatbrim low over his eyes. He could hav e been asleep, the loose way he followed the du n gelding's motion; but he was not asleep and h e missed nothing.
Haig Hanasian rode in silence. He made no comment about the weather, nor about the trail becoming rougher as they climbed into the foothills of th e Huachuca range. Haig's hat was narrow-brimme d and he wore a full suit and a cravat. Everythin g about him seemed out of place except the expression on his face. Frye noticed this. Haig's silence and his masked expression told nothing; yet b y their presence they told everything. At least to Frye.
He remembered Edith mistaking him for Sundeen the night he entered the cafe late, as if she had bee n expecting Phil. Probably something was going o n between them, Frye thought. Haig found out. An d now he wants to do something about it.
Before noon they reached the camp where Ford had left Merl. Riding at night it had taken For d seven hours to reach Randado; returning durin g daylight they did it in almost half that time.
"Merl and Joe and Dandy stayed the night here," Ford explained.
"You must have been close to them," Frye said.
It was a dry camp and there had been no fire.
"So close we had to stop when we did," Ford said, "for fear of riding on them in the dusk. Mer l said him and the boys would go on at daylight, bu t that we'd be able to follow him easy."
They rested the horses, then moved on following Merl's sign, crossing a three-mile length of meado w where the wild grass was broken and bent forwar d in a narrow path down the middle. Through scattered pine stands they followed branches Merl ha d broken and left hanging. Over rocky ground ther e were stones set in a row pointing the way. The y could have followed the horse tracks, but this save d time and time was the important element. They entered a draw that was narrow and overgrown with brush and they moved through it single file, feelin g the gradual rise and when it opened they were hig h up on a bench that looked down on a valley and th e tops of jackpines far below. Dandy Jim was ther e waiting for them.
He led them along the bench, then down a slope through dim, silent timber. At the bottom, waterin g their horses in a stream, Merl White and Joe Tobi n were waiting.
Merl was squatting on his heels at the edge of the stream. He looked over his shoulder, then rose a s Dandy Jim brought them in.
"Where you been?"
Danaher stepped out of the saddle. "The other side of the mountain pickin' our noses."
Frye's gaze moved over the small clearing. He saw traces of the fire that had been smothered out , and close to him, at the edge of the clearing, th e grass was trampled and broken off where th e horses had been picketed. He watched Dandy Ji m cross to the stream removing his red cotton headband. He dipped it in and out of the water quickly, then spread it out and rubbed mud into it from th e damp bank. He shook it, then spread it out again t o let the sun dry the mud. They're close, Fry e thought.
He heard Merl White saying, "We got us a problem. They split up here."
"What?" Danaher was lighting a cigar but he held it and the match went out in his hand.
Frye swung down and let his horse go to the stream. "Maybe they split up leaving here," Fry e said, "but met again further on."
Merl shook his head. "Three of them went due north up the stream, but one crossed over and followed it down the other way."
Danaher lit his cigar and blew on it slowly.
"Now which one would that be?"
"You wouldn't think Tindal or Stedman," Frye said.
"Unless," Danaher said, "one of them got a chance to sneak off during the night."
Frye asked Merl, "Where'd he cross?"
"Right there where your horse's watering."
"They were grazed over on the other side," Frye said. "That means he'd have to have brought hi s horse right through camp to cross the strea m there."
"I didn't finish," Merl said. "We figure whoever it was, left a few minutes before the others, and i n daylight. Dandy crossed over and followed his sig n a ways, down the stream about a hundred yards , then up into the trees. Dandy says up there in a clearing the man had stopped. You can see thi s camp from there. The man waited there a while , least long enough to smoke a cigarette, because th e stub of it was there. And he must have been watching the others."
"The careful type," Danaher said.
Frye said, "And he smokes cigarettes. You ever see Tindal or Stedman with anything but a cigar?"
"No," Danaher answered, "I don't believe I h ave."
"Are you thinking," Frye asked, "what I'm thinking?"
"Probably so," Danaher said. "Sundeen wouldn't be likely to walk out on his old committe e friends after going to so much trouble to brin g them along. And he doesn't strike you as the kin d who'd sit over there and smoke a cigarette onc e he'd made up his mind to move. That leaves on e man. Jordan. If they had an argument and Jorda n walked out, I think he'd be inclined to watch the m till they were out of sight."
Frye looked at Merl. "How far did Dandy follow him?"
"About an hour."
Frye went over to Dandy Jim and the Coyotero, squatting down, looked up at him and grinned as i f to say: I've been waiting for you.
Danaher watched them and it reminded him of Galluro to see the two squatting together drawin g lines on the smoothed dirt. He drank a cup of col d coffee from Merl's canteen, then saw them stan d up.
The Coyotero took the cloth that was spread open next to him, folded it into a triangle and tied i t over his long hair, knotting it in back. He looke d like a color picture Danaher had once seen of a pirate, only now the headband wasn't red; it was a dull brown color that wouldn't be seen through th e trees or stand out against rock. Then Frye came toward him.
"John, Dandy and I figure we can take Jordan before he gets anywhere near the border."
"Is that so?"
"Assuming he'll follow the stream as long as it bears generally south, we can make a straight lin e and be waiting for him when he comes out of th e valley."
"Dandy knows the country?"
"Like his hand."
"Just the two of you?"
"We'd go a lot faster."
Danaher shrugged. "You're in charge."
"You'll keep after the others?"
"Of course."
"We'll catch up with you later."
"Kirby, just keep one thing in mind. He gets paid for carrying a gun."
Dandy Jim leading, they splashed over the shallow stream, then followed Jordan's tracks along the bank and up to the clearing where he had waited.
From there Jordan had gone down again, following the stream south. But now Frye and the Coyoter o slanted up through the timber, their horses goin g slower, more carefully, as the slope became steeper , then making switchbacks through the trees as th e pines near the rim grew more dense. At the top the y looked back. They could see the stream and th e camp they had left far below on the other side, bu t there was no movement and they knew Danahe r had gone on.
Daylight was beginning to fade, but here was open country dipping and rolling in long gradua l swells and they gave the horses their heads, lettin g them run hard in the cool breeze of evening. Then , in gray dimness, they rode down the long sweep o f land that stretched curving downward to th e mouth of the valley.
Now, looking back into the valley they could see gigantic rock formations tumbled through the wil d brush of the valley floor. Following the stream, Jordan would move slowly. And the rocks would slow him even more, Frye thought. He was confiden t that Jordan had not left the valley before they arrived to seal its exit.
Frye asked, "Where does the stream end?"
The Coyotero pointed to the trees, now a solid black mass between the steep sides of the valley.
"Beyond there the time it would take to ride one hour."
Then that's where he will camp, Frye thought. By water. Because he doesn't know when he will see i t again. And he would camp early; rest the hors e well; and make the border in one ride.
"It is too wide here to wait for him," Frye said.
Dandy Jim nodded, agreeing. They moved their horses into the mouth of the valley that began t o narrow abruptly after only a few hundred yard s and now they angled toward the near side and lef t their horses in the dense pines that grew along th e slope. They moved farther in on foot, then climbe d up into the rocks to wait.
"It will be all right to smoke," Dandy Jim said, which was his way of asking for a cigarette. Fry e made them and they smoked in silence. Afterwards , they ate meat which they had brought and dran k water from their canteens. They smoked anothe r cigarette before going to sleep.
At first light, the Coyotero touched Frye on the shoulder. He came awake, sitting up, looking ou t over the rocks to the floor of the valley.
"This is a good place," the Coyotero said.
"Even better than it looked in the dark," Frye agreed. Across to the other slope was less than thre e hundred yards; then, to the right, another thre e hundred to the trees and tumbled rocks throug h which Jordan would come. The trees seemed les s dense on this side of the valley, which meant Jorda n would likely be bearing to the near side. That, Fry e thought, would make it all the better.
They decided how they would do it, watching the trees as they talked.
After, Frye rolled four cigarettes and gave them to Dandy Jim with matches, then watched as th e Coyotero scrambled down the rocks. First h e would check the horses, then return to the pines directly below Frye ready to run out and disarm Jordan after Frye commanded him to halt. Dandy Jim had said, "Why not shoot him from here?" Bu t Frye explained that it would be better to take hi m back as a prisoner.
And now he waited, leaning on his left side, looking through a groove in the rocks in front o f him. His Winchester rested in this V and from tim e to time he would sight on the break in the tree s through which he expected Jordan to come.
The rocks that jutted out from the opposite slope were clean and clear in the early morning sunlight , but the floor of the valley, almost all the wa y across, was still in shadow. He could hear the crie s of birds back in the trees in the direction h e watched, and the soft sound of the breeze in th e pines. The rocks beneath him were cold and h e thought, feeling the dampness of the rocks bu t meaning the entire cool early morning stillness o f the valley: By the time the sun is high en
ough t o warm it, this will be over.
Keep listening to the birds. They'll give you warning when he comes. If they are in the lowe r trees they'll fly up as he passes them.
He looked at the shadow below him and he thought: Like rolling up a black rug. You almos t see it getting shorter. Eight o'clock? Something lik e that. He's not rushing into anything. He look s ahead, and this morning he's making sure his hors e will take him to the border. It would've been goo d to have seen what happened between him and Sundeen. Maybe it was payday and Sundeen didn't have the money. Maybe it was as simple as that.
He could not hear Dandy Jim below him and he did not expect to. This is his meat. He's Apache an d could sit in an ambush for ten years if he thought i t was worth waiting for.
He could not hear the horses either. Purposely they were both geldings. There would be nothin g between them that would be worth nickerin g about.
He saw the birds rise from the trees. They were in a flock, now swooping and rising as one, an d they flew out of sight up the valley. Frye rubbed ou t his cigarette.
Jordan stopped at the edge of the trees. He dismounted and adjusted his cinch, pulling it tighter.
Then he mounted and rode warily out of the trees.
Frye's front sight covered Jordan's left side, the sight barely moving, barely lowering as Jorda n came on. The Winchester was cocked.
Mr. Jordan, Frye thought looking down the barrel, you're about to make a decision. And you won't have time to change your mind once yo u make it. The front sight dropped an inch as Jorda n drew nearer to the slope and Frye's finger was ligh t against the tightness of the trigger. Just flick it, h e thought, and you've solved everything. No, let's take him home.
Now Jordan was even with him and Frye knew that this was as close as he would come.
"JORDAN! THROW UP YOUR HANDS!"
The words echoed in the narrowness and Jordan made his decision. Frye saw the horse wheel suddenly toward the slope and rear up, rearing the same moment he fired.
Jordan was reining again, pulling the horse's head to face the trees, and the horse moved with a lunge that took it almost to a dead run the first fe w yards. Frye hurried the next shot and it was lo w and suddenly he had to go down as Jordan returned the fire, emptying his gun, at fifty yards, straight up through the V where Frye wa s crouched.