“Like you were with Nicky,” Emma said.

“Yep. So we got to mean it, soon as it starts. No whonking people. No shooting them in the leg. They need to know, and we need to know, that we are ready to kill them.”

“Someone told me Nicky had six men with him,” Emma said. “How come they all didn’t just start shooting at the same time and kill both of you.”

“Couple reasons,” I said. “One, Virgil always makes it one against one. He always lets them know that if they draw first they are going to die first. And he’s so quick that he’s killed the first man before anyone else has cleared the holster. It tends to freeze everyone. Once they freeze, it’s over.”

“God,” Emma said. “You talk about this like it was some kind of regular work, like herding cows.”

“Seems like regular work after a while, I guess. How ’bout you?”

Emma giggled.

“Depends who I have to fuck,” Emma said.

“It would,” I said. “Wouldn’t it.”

“I do it ’cause, pretty much, I gotta. I got no money, no husband, don’t know how to do nothing else,” Emma said. “But you can do other stuff. You don’t have to do what you do. You been to the United States Military Academy. How come you just do gun work.”

“Me and Virgil,” I said. “We’re good at it. Hell, Virgil may be the best there is at it.”

“And you like that.”

“It’s pleasing,” I said. “To be good at what you do.”

“You like killing folks,” Emma said.

I thought about that for a while.

“Not so much killing,” I said. “But when we do it, and, Virgil would say, do it right, it’s like we say, This is us; this is who we are; this is what we do.”

“And you like that.”

“Guess we do,” I said.

“You think I’m good at what I do?” Emma said.

“Best in history,” I said.

“Want me to do it again?”

“One’s all I can afford,” I said.

Emma rolled over on top of me.

“On the house,” she said.

NICKY LAIRD had been dead for three weeks. I was in the Golden Palace explaining to a very drunk mule skinner why he couldn’t buy more whiskey on credit. He was kind of stubborn about it, so I hit him in the stomach with the butt of the eight-gauge and threw him off the front steps into Third Street.

I came back into the saloon, and a man came in behind me. He was wearing a beaded buckskin shirt, an ivory-handled Colt on his hip, and a derby hat tilted forward over the bridge of his nose. He looked like somebody from a wild west show, except, somehow, I knew he wasn’t.

“Nicely done,” the man said to me.

He had black-and-white striped pants tucked into high black boots, and his skin was smooth and kind of pale, like a woman’s. He didn’t look like he spent much time outside. His hands were pale, too, with long fingers.

“No guns,” I said, “allowed in the saloon.”

“Oh,” he said. “Of course. Perhaps we could step out onto the veranda.”

First time I ever heard it called a veranda. But we stepped out onto it anyway.

“No wasted movement,” he said when we were outside.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Nice long gun, too,” the man said. “Eight-gauge?”

“Yep.”

“Makes a big hole,” the man said.

“Does,” I said.

“You work here?” he said.

“Here and there,” I said.

“I’m looking for a fella named Virgil Cole,” the man said. “Might you be he?”

“Nope,” I said. “Name’s Everett Hitch.”

“Chauncey Teagarden,” he said. “You’re with Cole, are you not?”

He didn’t offer to shake hands. I didn’t, either.

“I am,” I said.

“Know where to find him?”

“I do,” I said. “Why do you want to see him?”

“Heard so much about him,” Teagarden said.

I nodded. We were both quiet.

“Seems to me,” I said after a short time, “that I’ve heard some ’bout you.”

“All good, I hope.”

“Heard you did gun work,” I said.

“Some.”

“What brings you to Appaloosa?” I said.

“Just drifting,” he said.

“Planning on staying?” I said.

“Don’t expect to be here long,” Teagarden said.

“Planning on any work while you’re here?” Teagarden smiled.

“See if any comes my way,” he said. “I’d surely like to meet Virgil Cole.”

“Probably sitting in front of the Boston House,” I said. “I’ll walk up with you.”

“’Preciate it,” Teagarden said.

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.

I WAS LEAVING the Boston House to start my evening rounds when Laurel came full speed through the swinging doors and ran into me. I caught her and held her for a moment as she looked wildly around the room.

“Virgil?” I said.

She nodded. I knew she couldn’t talk to me. So with my arms still around her I bellowed back into the saloon for Virgil. When he appeared I let her go, and she pressed herself against him. He put his head down, and she whispered in his ear. Virgil listened to Laurel completely, like he always did.

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll go out and you can sit with me and Everett while we discuss this.”

Laurel nodded. We sat in front of the saloon.

“Laurel says that Allie told Mrs. Callico that Pony and his brother are up in Resolution.”

Laurel leaned over and whispered for a long time to Virgil. He nodded gravely as he listened. Then, when she stopped, he spoke to me.

“Laurel says Mrs. Callico’s first name is Olivia.”

He looked at Laurel. She nodded.

“Says Mrs. Callico told Laurel to call her Aunt Olivia.” I smiled.

“But since Laurel don’t talk,” Virgil said, “don’t make much difference what she calls her.”

“True,” I said.

“Laurel says she thinks Mrs. Callico is a horse’s ass,” Virgil went on. “But that Allie thinks she’s the queen of England or somebody.”

“So, she told her where Pony went, to suck up,” I said.

Laurel pulled at Virgil’s sleeve, and he leaned down again. She whispered to him. Virgil nodded.