"Watching him is work in itself."

  "It's starting to wear thin."

  "You get used to it," Digo told him.

  "How long have you been at it?"

  "Almost since the day he was born." Digo smiled. "I taught him to ride . . . how to break a horse . . . how to drink. I taught him many things."

  Jordan's gaze left Sundeen standing at the bar and returned to Digo. "And now there's nothin g left to teach."

  Digo nodded. "Now I watch. I told this one's father I would watch him, so that's what I do."

  Jordan's eyes went to Sundeen again, who stood with his elbows on the bar and his back to the m talking to De Spain behind the bar. "Was his fathe r like that?"

  "At times. But he worked harder than this one,"

  Digo said. "I've been with him twenty years and I k now. He saw that the work was done and then h e drank. This one does what he feels like. He alway s has. Even when the father was strong and woul d try to break him with his fists, this one continue d his own way . . . and now it's that father who's broken. When there was no strength left to use on him, the old man said, 'Digo, watch him--' He gave m e my name, Digo. Once it was Diego, but the ol d man said it Digo and now everyone does. He said , 'Digo, watch him as I would.' " The horsebreake r closed his eyes as if to remember the words. "He said, 'Watch him and keep him alive as long as he's bad, for if he dies the way he is, his next meal wil l be in hell.' " Digo grinned. "That was somethin g for the old man to say, uh?"

  "What about his mother?"

  "She never counted. And now she's dead anyway."

  Phil Sundeen came over to the table. He pulled out a chair and put his foot on it and stood leanin g on his leg, looking at no one in particular. "D e Spain says they haven't been in since Monda y morning. And this is--"

  "Wednesday," Digo said. "That's four more men you don't have."

  "They might turn up. If they don't, so what? I c an sign four waddies any day of the week."

  "Eleven more," Jordan reminded him. "Counting the three you chased off Saturday."

  "All right, eleven. I'd let go almost that many over the winter anyway. I don't need riders to scatter hay and drop salt licks. That's farmer work."

  "If you don't care," Jordan said, raising his eyes to look at Sundeen, "why did we ride all the way i n to look for them?"

  Sundeen looked down at Digo. "He's the serious type."

  "I think so," Digo answered. This was when he liked Phil the best, when he kidded with a straigh t face.

  "The serious ones are always worried about little things," Sundeen said. "Like where to pick hands."

  "I've noticed that in life," Digo said. "Some even pray before they know they're going to die."

  Phil nodded. "That's the serious type."

  Jordan leaned back in his chair placing his hands gently on the edge of the table. He said to Phil, "Rem ember what that boy said when I tried to pro d him into a fight? I insulted his mother and he tol d me I was wasting my time."

  "He was scared to fight," Sundeen said.

  "Maybe so, under those conditions. But he didn't rile up and get shot. He held on until he sa w an opening . . . one that you made."

  Sundeen said, "What's the point?"

  "The point is you tend to underestimate people.

  You chased that boy out of town and you don't think you'll ever see him again. Just like you thin k you and Digo can go on joshin' back and forth an d I'll sit here and listen as long as you keep it up."

  Sundeen said, "Digo . . . that's what I mean by the serious type."

  Jordan rose. "I'm going to eat."

  Sundeen just nodded, then followed him with his eyes as he left De Spain's.

  "Don't think what you're thinking," Digo said.

  Sundeen grinned. "And what's that?"

  "You'd try anything once."

  "How do we know he's fast? Just because somebody else said so."

  "Just look at him."

  "You can't go by that."

  "You didn't see him draw when Harold Mendez opened up."

  "Fast?"

  "Fast! Listen," Digo said earnestly, "there isn't anybody in this country can touch him. I'd bet m y life on it."

  Sundeen shrugged. "You know how things enter our head."

  "Keep that one out," Digo said, and exhaled silently as Phil straightened up, pushing the chai r under the table.

  "I'm going to get something to eat."

  "It sounds good," Digo said.

  "You get back home. Somebody's got to work."

  Digo shrugged. "All right. But don't run off any sheriffs without me."

  Now it was almost noon and half of the tables in the Metropolitan were occupied. Sundeen glance d at the men sitting along the counter and then hi s eyes went down the row of tables. There he was.

  Jordan. Sundeen walked toward him, but beyond he saw Tindal and Stedman sitting together and h e walked past Jordan who looked up at him but sai d nothing.

  Stedman half rose, holding his napkin to his stomach. "Phil . . . how are you?"

  Tindal made himself smile, offering, "Sit down, Phil."

  Sundeen pulled out one of the chairs and stepped over it sitting down.

  "That's just what I meant to do." He was grinn ing, looking from Tindal to Stedman and said , "Haven't seen you in a few days."

  "We were away," Tindal explained evasively, "on business."

  "That's what I'm told."

  Stedman pushed his plate forward putting his elbow on the table. "Earl Beaudry's thinking about buying some property in La Noria. Wanted us t o take a look at it."

  "You missed a show the other morning," Sundeen said.

  Tindal nodded and now his face was serious.

  "You shouldn't have done that, Phil."

  "You heard about it?"

  "It's all over everywhere."

  "Yeah, I suppose it got to La Noria else you wouldn't be back."

  Stedman held his eyes on Sundeen. "Do you think we left for any other reason than because Ear l asked us to come with him?"

  Sundeen shook his head, grinning. "George, you old bastard, you should have been on that stage."

  "Phil, I swear, when we left we didn't know Danaher was in town."

  "Everybody else did."

  "We can't help that."

  "Why didn't Earl come back?"

  "He's still looking at the property."

  "Look," Tindal said, lowering his voice then, "we got no reason to lie."

  Edith Hanasian came to their table and handed Sundeen a menu. His had touched her arm as h e took it and she drew back.

  "What's the matter, Edith?"

  She returned his stare, but not his smile. "What do you want?"

  Phil winked at her. "The special."

  "What else?"

  "Edith"--his grin widened--"you're somethin'."

  "I mean to drink."

  "Coffee." He was still grinning, watching her walk back to the kitchen.

  "Phil, what about Kirby?" Tindal was leaning close to the table. "Is he coming back?"

  "He's got no reason to."

  "He won't just sit down and forget this."

  "He doesn't have any choice."

  "Hell he hasn't," Tindal said anxiously. "He'll go to Danaher."

  "That's a long barefooted walk to Tucson."

  "Phil," Stedman said as seriously as he knew how. "You got to do something."

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know. Explain to Danaher you were drunk and didn't mean anything by it. You're a bi g enough man, the most he'll do is fine you a littl e bit."

  Sundeen looked at Stedman for a long moment.

  "What do you mean you?"

  "Well, it was you that ran Kirby out."

  Sundeen's face relaxed. "Why, I was working by request of the Committee. After the trouble h e caused Saturday night you said we needed a ne w deputy and would I ask this one to leave."

  Tindal's mouth opened, but no sound came from him. Stedman's words were a hoars
e whisper, saying, "We never told you that!"

  Sundeen shrugged. "Danaher would believe it whether it was the truth or not after the stunt yo u pulled Saturday."

  "We can explain that to him," Stedman said hastily, "but not running off a deputy!"

  "Well, now you'll have to explain both." Sundeen leaned back as Edith placed his dinner in front of him. He said pleasantly, "Where's Haig?"

  "He's around."

  "That's too bad, isn't it?"

  She turned away without answering.

  "Phil!" Tindal's tone was impatient. "You've got to think of something!"

  Sundeen watched Edith until she reached the kitchen.

  "That's what I'm doing."

  "Be serious for a minute!"

  Sundeen raised his fork and pushed it into the fried potatoes. He picked up a slice of ham with hi s fingers and curled it, biting off a piece. "Let me tel l you something," he said, chewing the ham. "Everything I did, you did. And everything you did, I did.

  That includes Earl Beaudry looking over property down in La Noria. Now shut up while I eat."

  They remained silent, stirring their coffee, letting it get cold and finally pushing the cups away untouched. When he was finished Sundeen stood up, taking a toothpick from the table. "Come on. I'l l buy you a drink."

  Stedman said absently, "I'd just as soon not."

  "George, I'm not askin' you."

  They went next door to De Spain's and stood at the bar, Sundeen leaning with his back against it , enjoying Tindal and Stedman's discomfort an d watching Jordan, who had left the cafe before the y did, sitting alone at a table now reading a threeday-old Tucson newspaper.

  "Look at my lawyer," Sundeen said, amused.

  "He's not worryin' . . . and he's the serious type."

  Jordan looked up, but said nothing.

  Stedman finished his drink, scowling at the taste of it. "I've got to get back." He hesitated, as if expecting Sundeen to object.

  "I do too," Tindal said. Stedman moved away from the bar and Tindal followed him. "We'll se e you later."

  "All right." Sundeen nodded and watched them head for the door. Stedman put his hand on th e knob, but stepped back clumsily against Tindal a s the doors swung in abruptly.

  Digo pushed past them. He was breathing heavily moving toward Sundeen and one word came from him as a gasp--

  "Danaher!"

  Frye swung down from behind Danaher and went to the jail as Danaher's posse tied up along bot h sides of the street. Twelve men. He recognized a few of them: three men who had been with Danaher at Galluro Station. Two others were deputies from Sonoita and Canelo. Danaher had picke d them up on the way down from Tucson. All o f them were heavily armed; grim-faced men wh o spoke little and watched Danaher for orders.

  There had been fifteen originally. Three were now scouting the Sun-D buildings. To Danaher thi s was merely going through the motions. He kne w Phil Sundeen, and he was moderately certain wher e to find him.

  From the jail doorway Frye glanced back seeing Danaher going toward De Spain's. He's not fooling , Frye thought. And neither are the rest of them.

  Dandy Jim was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and he rose as Frye entered the office, seeing the look of surprise on Frye's face.

  "I thought you'd be gone."

  "If you thought that," Dandy Jim said, "why did you have that man bring food yesterday an d today?"

  "Well, I wasn't sure, so I mentioned it to him."

  He had told Haig about Dandy Jim when Haig came out to them Tuesday morning.

  "He said that he saw you"--the Coyotero spoke in Spanish--"and that you would come back soon."

  Frye asked, "You saw what took place the day before this?"

  Dandy Jim nodded. "All of it."

  "Have you seen those men today?"

  "They left hurriedly before you came."

  Frye's eyebrows raised. "Will you wait here?"

  When the Coyotero nodded he added, "Only a short time," and went out, crossing the street to D e Spain's.

  As he pushed through the doors, De Spain was saying, "Sundeen wanted to fight. He'd been drinking all morning and the idea of a posse on the way seemed to appeal to his sporting blood. I'd neve r seen a man so eager to fight . . . until Digo reminded him he didn't have enough men. Digo kept saying, 'Man, you lost eleven already--' "

  Following De Spain's glance Frye saw Merl White. He was standing next to Danaher and behind him was Haig Hanasian.

  "You see, besides Merl and Ford and Joe Tobin," De Spain went on, "some more left after th e stunt Phil pulled with Kirby. Phil knew they had quit , but it looked as if it didn't really sink in until tha t moment. Still, he wasn't going to budge and h e told Digo, 'Well, go on home and get who's left!'

  But Digo argued there was no way of telling if any of the other men were still about, and if he rode al l the way to Sun-D, then came back without anybody, it would be too late to dodge Danaher's posse. Phil argued back, but you could see it sinking in that suddenly he was almost alone . . . that Phil Sundeen, who owned the biggest spread in Sa n Rafael, had only Digo and a hired gunman left."

  Danaher broke in, "Jordan's still with him?"

  De Spain nodded. "He was when they left. You see Digo kept it up, looking like a crazy man th e way he was pleading, and finally Phil said, 'Al l right, we'll ride out.' He looked at me then an d said, 'But you tell 'em I'm coming back!' "

  "I don't think he'll be that obliging," Danaher murmured. "What kind of a start did they have?"

  "Not two hours," De Spain told. "But Tindal and Stedman should slow them down some."

  Danaher's eyes showed surprise. "They're along?"

  "They were here when Digo came in," De Spain said. "They tried to leave but Phil held them an d said, by God, if he was running then they were too.

  They argued and pleaded until Phil pulled his gun and told them he wasn't going to hear any more."

  De Spain shook his head. "They were a couple of sorry sights riding off with him."

  Danaher said, "But Earl Beaudry wasn't there?"

  "I haven't seen him in four days."

  "They didn't say where they were going?"

  "No. They couldn't go toward Sun-D because you were coming from that direction. Though i t seems to me as they were going out Digo said something about circling around to Sun-D and seeing who's about, then meeting Sundeen later."

  "I hope he does," Danaher said. "He'll find three men there I'm sure of. Three of mine."

  Later on, while they were in the Metropolitan eating--Frye, Danaher, and the Sonoita and Canel o deputies sitting at a table together--a man came i n from the street and went straight to Danaher.

  "John"--he was excited and grinning, eager to see Danaher's reaction--"you sure must live right. Thos e three boys you mentioned watching Sun-D . . . the y just brought in Digo!"

  They walked across the street, pushing through the men crowding in front of the jail. Frye went in first , seeing Dandy Jim and then Digo, Digo sitting in a chair against the wall and a man standing close t o him on both sides; but Danaher stopped in th e doorway. He told the men outside to go over to D e Spain's and take it easy.

  Turning, he looked at Digo, then to the two men guarding him. "Go have a drink, boys."

  They moved reluctantly and one of them said, "John, maybe you'll need a hand," glancing a t Digo as he said it.

  "I got two of my own," Danaher told him.

  "Close the door behind you." He waited until he heard it slam and then he removed his coat, no t taking his eyes from Digo who sat low in the chai r watching him. Danaher folded the coat deliberatel y and draped it over the chair by the desk.

  Frye half sat on the edge of the desk with one foot on the chair. Dandy Jim stood near him. Fry e moved slightly as Danaher lifted his revolver an d placed it on the desk, then watched Danaher as h e moved toward Digo again.

  "Where'd they go, horsebreaker?"

  The Mexican's chin was close to his chest, but his e
yes were lifted watching Danaher and he di d not answer.

  Danaher stepped closer. "Where did they go?"

  Digo did not move, looking up at Danaher sullenly.

  "Once more. Where did they go?"

  "Gimme a cigarette--"

  He was saying it as Danaher hit him; his head snapped back and his eyes came full awake and h e put his hand to his face.

  "When I ask a question, you answer it."

  "I don't know where they went."

  "You were to meet them."

  "No, we split up."

  "You were to check for riders and then meet them."

  Digo shrugged. "You know so much, why ask me?"

  Danaher hit him again, his right fist landing solidly against Digo's cheek.

  "The next time I'll knock you out of the chair."

  Digo's hand covered the side of his face. "We did not have a place to meet."

  "Maybe you've just forgotten it."

  "Maybe that's it."

  "Be careful, Digo."

  "Listen . . . I don't know where they went!"

  "You were to meet them tonight."

  "There was no plan."

  Danaher glanced at Frye, who had not moved from the desk and was smoking a cigarette now, an d then to Dandy Jim. "We got a boy," Danaher said t o Digo, "who could pick up their sign within an hour."

  Digo shrugged. "All right."

  "We're giving you a chance to square yourself."

  "I didn't ask for favors."

  "If you helped of your own accord, Judge Finnerty would go light on you."

  "Go to hell."

  Digo saw it coming and brought his shoulder around, but Danaher's right hand tightened in th e air and the left hand swung viciously against th e exposed side of Digo's face. The chair went ove r and Digo sprawled on the floor.

  He came to his hands and knees slowly, his eyes raised to Danaher. And as he brought his legs unde r him, he lunged. Danaher was waiting. He shifte d his weight and his right hand swung like a malle t against Digo's head. The Mexican staggered an d Danaher hit him with the other fist. Digo gasped a s Danaher found his stomach. He tried to cover, bu t Danaher's fists broke through his guard. A jab t o the head straightened Digo and a right cros s slammed him against the wall.

  Danaher picked up the chair, then helped Digo into it.

  "I was saying, it would be easier on you if you cooperated."