He nodded.

“Me ’n Everett been doing this most of our lives,” Virgil said. “We know how.”

We all sat silently for a moment.

“You come back to us,” Allie said.

“We will,” Virgil said.

Then he pointed toward Pony and gave Allie’s horse a slap on the flank. The horse moved forward and Laurel’s followed, and they rode away from us, toward town.

VIRGIL AND I SAT ON the riverbank and waited for Pony to do what he needed to.

“I don’t know if we’re really smart or really dumb,” I said, “hiding the women upstairs at Pike’s.”

“Nobody goes up there but whores and customers,” Virgil said. “Pony told me employees ain’t allowed.”

“Pike sure as hell wouldn’t look for them there.”

“No,” Virgil said.

A fish splashed in the river and left a series of concentric ripples. Bass probably, snapping up a dragonfly.

“Why is it exactly that we’re going to kill him?” I said.

“That what we going to do?” Virgil said.

“ ’Course it is,” I said. “ ’ Less he kills us.”

“Just want to talk with Pike,” Virgil said.

“Horseshit,” I said. “You took his money and double-crossed him, and now you’re gonna go and shove it in his face. You know he is gonna have to pull on you.”

Virgil smiled.

“I do,” Virgil said.

“Maybe what we doing ain’t quite exactly law-officer business anyway,” I said.

“Must be,” Virgil said. “We’re law officers.”

“Some folks might say we should have stepped in between Percival and Pike,” I said.

“You miss Percival?”

“Nope.”

“He was a fraud,” Virgil said. “He was in cahoots with Pike to drive out all of Pike’s competition. He messed with Laurel. He messed with Allie. He give Allie to Pike.”

“At least that’s how she saw it,” I said.

Virgil looked at me for a time.

“Allie is Allie,” he said. “You gonna miss Pike?”

“Might have saved a lot of trouble if he’d told us all he knew ’bout Buffalo Calf,” I said.

“Might have,” Virgil said.

“So, is it tactics?” I said. “Let the vermin fight to the death and then pick off the winner?”

“Sure,” Virgil said.

“Or is it personal?” I said. “ ’Cause of Laurel and Allie… maybe Mary Beth?”

“Sure,” Virgil said.

“So you’re feeling all right ’bout this business,” I said.

“We not gonna back-shoot anybody,” Virgil said. “We risk our lives to do what we think, the right thing to do. Somebody told me once that was pretty much all you could ask for.”

“Who was that?” I said.

“A smart fella,” Virgil said, and sipped some coffee. “Went to West Point.”

“Oh,” I said. “Him.”

The resident bass, or whatever it was, jumped for another dragonfly, or whatever it was, and left the circles of his jump on the surface of the water. We both watched the ripples as they widened slowly out until they disappeared against the riverbank.

“When we’re finished with Pike,” I said, “what you gonna do with Allie?”

“Gonna keep her,” Virgil said.

“You think she’s changed?” I said.

“I think she has,” Virgil said.

I didn’t say anything.

“You think she has?” Virgil said.

“Don’t know,” I said.

“It’s the girl,” Virgil said. “I see her with the girl and I see a different Allie.”

“Maybe,” I said.

“People change,” Virgil said.

“Not a lot of them,” I said.

Virgil was silent for a moment.

Then he said, “No, not a lot of them.

“Somebody got to take care of Laurel,” Virgil said.

“That would be Allie,” I said.

“That would be Allie,” Virgil said.

“Guess the question’s settled for the moment,” I said.

“I guess,” Virgil said.

VIRGIL AND I WALKED UP Arrow Street toward Pike’s Palace in the early afternoon. The day was bright. There was a pleasant breeze off the river. Virgil was wearing his Colt and carrying a Winchester in his left hand. I had my Colt and the eight-gauge.

“You got a plan?” I said.

“I do,” Virgil said. “I figure we’ll walk into Pike’s and see what happens.”

“That’s a plan?” I said.

“Sure,” Virgil said.

“Walk in cold against twenty-five men?” I said.

“We get Pike early, there won’t be twenty-five. They’ll fade like a spring blossom. Probably won’t be that many in there this hour of the day, anyway.”

I paused in front of a sign nailed to one of the overhang supports on the boardwalk in front of a hardware shop.

“No guns to be carried in Brimstone without permission,” the sign read. It was signed “Chauncey Brown, Town Marshal.”

“Chauncey Brown?” I said.

“That’d be Choctaw,” Virgil said.

“So quick,” I said.

“Pike’s like me,” Virgil said. “Needs to be done, may as well get to it.”

We arrived in front of Pike’s Palace. There was another one of Choctaw’s signs outside the door. We stood for a minute. I cocked the eight-gauge.

Then I said, “Here we go.”

Virgil winked at me, and we went in. I went to the corner to the right of the door where I could see the whole room. Virgil went past me and walked around the bar so he was away from me.

“Afternoon,” Virgil said to the bartender. “Could you tell Pike that Virgil Cole would like to see him.”

The bartender jerked his head up when Virgil spoke, and stared at him.

Then he said, “Yes sir,” and walked fast toward the back of the room. Across the room I could see Pony Flores having a meal alone at a table. When he saw us he stood and leaned against the wall. No one paid any attention. Nothing happened for a while. Then Abner came out of the back of the saloon carrying his lookout sawed-off. Some of Pike’s other gun hands appeared and began to spread out around the room. I stayed where I was. Pony stood against the far wall, and Virgil seemed comfortable and at peace, standing by the bar.

It was maybe twenty more minutes before Pike appeared, walking easily from the back, wearing a Colt.

“Virgil Cole,” he said pleasantly, “you cocksucker, why are you here?”

“Val Verde County deputy sheriffs,” Virgil said.

“For what?”

“Being a really bad asshole,” Virgil said.

“You think those badges mean you can take my money and double-cross me?” Pike said. “I bought them badges, and you. And you took the money and double-crossed me.”

“We left town like we promised,” Virgil said. “We didn’t say nothing about not coming back.”

“Virgil,” Pike said, as if he was tired, “don’t fuck with me. You know and I know that I’m gonna have to kill the both of you.”

“Sorry you feel that way, Pike,” Virgil said.

I wondered where Choctaw was. He’d been hired for this kind of moment. But I couldn’t look for him. If the ball went up, I needed to be focused. I had to kill Abner with one barrel, and maybe clean out a couple more with the other barrel. If the dance started, Choctaw would announce himself.

Virgil was silent, waiting. In the saloon, people began to scramble for cover. It was helpful in sorting out who were shooters and who were not. Pike continued to look at Virgil. They were maybe six feet apart. I didn’t know if Pike was cranking up his courage or savoring his moment. Virgil was simply waiting. The saloon wasn’t crowded this time of day. The spectators’ scrambling stopped as all of them got out of the way. The room was quiet. The tension in the room was like a physical pressure.

Then Pike said very clearly, “I believe I can beat you,” and moved a step away from Virgil.

Upstairs somebody fired some shots, maybe three, and the tension exploded. Abner half turned at the sound and I shot him with one barrel, and the two gunmen to his right with the other barrel. Pony shot two men from the far side of the room. Something tumbled from the upstairs balcony. And Pike found he couldn’t beat Virgil.