“He still here for you, you think?”

“Be my guess,” Virgil said.

“Because of the son,” I said.

“Yep.”

“What are they waiting for?” I said.

“Chauncey likes to play the fish for a rime, ’fore he catches him,” Virgil said. “And during the recent Indian thing we was kinda useful.”

“I got another theory,” I said.

“Figured you would,” Virgil said. “Bein’ as how you went to West Point and all.”

“Things are in a state of some flux,” I said.

“ ‘Flux’?” Virgil said.

“Like flow,” I said. “Things are moving and changing.”

“Does a river flux?”

“No, it flows,” I said.

“Don’t it mean the same thing?” Virgil said.

“Pretty much,” I said. “Except people just say it the way they say it.”

“So, things are fluxing,” Virgil said.

I nodded.

“So, Laird may be thinking it’s a good idea to have a first-rate gun hand available until things shake out.”

“That would be Chauncey,” Virgil said.

“And if Chauncey kills you,” I said, “he probably would need to go away.”

“Not, I’m betting, because of Amos Callico,” Virgil said.

“Maybe, maybe not. Depends how things are when he has to decide. But Stringer might come down from the sheriff’s office. Hell, I might even get sort of bothersome ’bout it.”

“It would make sense for Chauncey to flux on out of Appaloosa after he killed me,” Virgil said.

“Which,” I said, “would leave Laird without the gun hand that he might need if, say, he finds it too hard to get along with Callico.”

“Nicky probably done that work for him before,” Virgil said.

“Or wanted to,” I said.

Virgil shook his head sadly.

“Wasn’t good enough,” he said.

“But Chauncey is,” I said.

“Maybe,” Virgil said.

“And if you kill him…” I said.

“Laird’s gotta find somebody else.”

“Ain’t too many in Chauncey’s class,” I said.

“Nope.”

“So, we wait and watch,” I said.

“Yep.”

“Least he won’t back-shoot you,” I said. “He’ll come at you straight on.”

Virgil nodded.

“Be too bad if I have to kill him,” Virgil said. “He’s been pretty useful so far.”

“So have you,” I said.

“I have,” Virgil said. “Haven’t I?”

THE FRONT of the Golden Palace where it faced the street was still open. And carpenters were bringing in lumber and millwork. But the back of the room was enclosed and there were a few odd tables set up near a bar made from a couple of tailgates.

Buford Posner brought a bottle of whiskey and four glasses to the table where Virgil and I were sitting with Lamar Speck. He poured some whiskey for each of us. Speck raised his glass.

“Almost back,” he said, and drank. We joined him.

“Get that front closed in,” Speck said. “And you can get started on the finish.”

“Got a new bar,” Posner said, “coming in from Denver. Amos got them to ship it to me on credit through the Reclamation Commission.”

“And got a little finder’s fee,” Speck said.

“Sure,” Posner said. “Amos always gets a little finder’s fee.”

“Didn’t know we had a Reclamation Commission,” I said.

“What Amos calls it,” Posner said. “Calls himself commissioner, too.”

“He would,” I said.

“Not a bad idea, though,” Speck said. “Town was originally thrown up building at a time with no oversight. So Amos got together with some of the better-off business interests in town, and he says we got a second chance, let’s do it right. And he brings the general aboard, first off, and when people see that, they’re interested. Me ’n Buford came aboard.”

Virgil seemed interested in the framing work going on in the front of the saloon. But I knew he heard what was being said. Virgil, as far as I know, always heard everything that mattered. And saw everything, and knew what to do.

“How’s it work?” I said.

“We all chip in some money, to make a little credit pool, and use it to support loans for people rebuilding. In return they give the commission a say in what they’re doing,” Speck said.

“Nice position of power,” I said.

“Amos put in money,” Virgil said.

He was still watching the framers. It was the kind of thing Virgil liked to watch. Men with a skill practicing it well.

“Mostly the general put up the money at first,” Posner said. “Him and Amos is pretty tight. Amos is the commissioner, does most of the legwork.”

“You boys get to say much?” I said.

“We have regular meetings,” Speck said.

“Truth of the matter,” Posner said, “we’re in ’cause we can’t afford to be out.”

I nodded.

“But do you have any say?”

“Not much,” Speck said. “Callico and the general are very tight. They pretty much decide everything.”

“And it’s not just the money,” Posner said. “Callico is the law here, and he always has some policemen with him.”

“And the general?” Virgil said.

“Teagarden is always beside him,” Posner said.

“Any threats?” Virgil said.

“Not direct, but they can back up what they think should happen,” Posner said.

“And you boys can’t,” Virgil said.

“No.”

“And you want us to help you.”

They said yes at the same time.

Virgil looked at me.

“You want to have the first say, Everett?” he said.

I nodded.

“I don’t like it,” I said.

Virgil nodded slowly.

“No,” he said. “I don’t, either.”

“We can pay you well,” Speck said.

Virgil shook his head.

“Ain’t that,” he said.

“Are you afraid?” Posner said.

Virgil smiled.

“Long as Everett and me been doing this?” he said. “Nope, we ain’t scared.”

“You want to end up on the right side of things,” Speck said. “When this is all over with and Callico’s got the town.”

“Everett,” Virgil said to me. “Would you explain to these two gentlemen why we ain’t gonna do this?”

“What we do,” I said to Speck and Posner, “is we kill men. We been doing it for a while and we are better at it than anyone we’ve come up against so far. Being good at killing men is different than being good at bulldogging a steer or shooting holes in silver dollars. It’s serious, and it needs to be done right.”

Speck and Posner stared at me and said nothing.

“You’re a lawman and right is pretty easy. You do what the law requires. And you’re pretty much sure you’re on the right side of things. Until now and then you find that you’re not. And you have to kill someone on your own terms.”

Virgil nodded. He had always worried about stuff like this more than I did.

“This would be like that,” I said. “And we don’t want to kill a man on your terms.”

“Well,” Speck said. “Pretty goddamned fancy for a couple of fucking gunmen.”

“Fancy,” Virgil said.

VIRGIL AND I were having coffee and dried-apricot pie at Café Paris. Through the front window we could see the opening ceremonies for the new Laird bank that the general was opening in Appaloosa.

There was red, white, and blue bunting. There were some speeches. Two guys played banjo. The general was there, of course, in a dark gray suit and some ribbons and an officer’s dress sword on a sash. Teagarden was beside him, wearing his ivory-handled Colt. Chauncey was a bear for ceremony.

“Lotta money kicking around Appaloosa these days,” I said.

“Callico and the general,” Virgil said.

“Yeah,” I said. “They’ve brought in a lot.”

“That much money coming and going,” Virgil said. “Trouble comes with it.”

“Bad element collecting in town?” I said.

“Seems so,” Virgil said.

“Anyone special?” I said.

“Well,” Virgil said. “There’s you and me.”

“We cleaned it up the first time, Virgil.”

“Might have to again,” Virgil said.

“And who’ll pay us to do it?”

“Whoever got the most to lose, I expect,” Virgil said.