The sheriff, a balding man named Owensby, had of course heard of Call and was eager to show him the prisoner. The jail had only three cells, and Blue Duck was in the middle one, which had no window. The others had been cleared, minor culprits having simply been turned loose in order to lessen the chances that Blue Duck might somehow contrive an escape.
The minute Call saw the man he knew it was unlikely. Blue Duck had been shot in the shoulder and leg, and had a greasy rag wound around his forehead, covering another wound. Call had never seen a man so draped in chains. He was handcuffed; each leg was heavily chained; and the chains draped around his torso were bolted to the wall. Two deputies with Winchesters kept constant watch. Despite the chains and bars, Call judged that both were scared to death.
Blue Duck himself seemed indifferent to the furor outside. He was leaning back against the wall, his eyes half closed, when Call came in.
"What's he doing?" Sheriff Owensby asked. Despite all the precautions, he was so nervous that he had not been able to keep food down since the prisoner was brought in.
"Ain't doin' much," one deputy said. "What can he do?"
"Well, it's been said he can escape from any jail," the sheriff reminded them. "We got to watch him close."
"Only way to watch him closer is to go in with him, and I'll quit before I'll do that," the other deputy said.
Blue Duck opened his slumbrous eyes a fraction wider and looked at Call.
"I hear you brought your stinkin' old friend to my hanging," Blue Duck said, his low, heavy voice startling the deputies and the sheriff too.
"Just luck," Call said.
"I should have caught him and cooked him when I had the chance," Blue Duck said.
"He would have killed you," Call said; annoyed by the man's insolent tone. "Or I would have, if need be."
Blue Duck smiled. "I raped women and stole children and burned houses and shot men and run off horses and killed cattle and robbed who I pleased, all over your territory, ever since you been a law," he said. "And you never even had a good look at me until today. I don't reckon you would have killed me."
Sheriff Owensby reddened, embarrassed that the man would insult a famous Ranger, but there was little he could do about it. Call knew there was truth in what Blue Duck said, and merely stood looking at the man, who was larger than he had supposed. His head was huge and his eyes cold as snake's eyes.
"I despise all you fine-haired sons of bitches," Blue Duck said. "You Rangers. I expect I'll kill a passel of you yet."
"I doubt it," Call said. "Not unless you can fly."
Blue Duck smiled a cold smile. "I can fly," he said. "An old woman taught me. And if you care to wait, you'll see me."
"I'll wait," Call said.
On the day of the hanging the square in front of the courthouse was packed with spectators. Call had to tie his animals over a hundred yards away — he wanted to get started as soon as the hanging was over