The Bounty Hunters

Fly

"But hating them," Bowers said, "doesn't make him sympathetic. I saw something called ley fuga. I don't know what it means, but I saw it…coming back from Alaejos."

"It's not something new…the law of flight. If a prisoner attempts to escape, take the opportunity to shoot him…it saves the cost of a trial."

"That's what Santana said."

"He was explaining the practical side."

"I suppose forcing the man to escape is practical, too."

"As far as Duro is concerned it is," Fly

Bowers looked quickly. "What do you mean?"

"Hilario has figured it out. He says Duro must have known the scalps Lazair gave him were not Apache…that time, or times before. He blames Duro more than he does Lazair because Duro is Mexican, even if he is a rurale. I asked him to wait until I'd located you and then we'd talk about it. He has some people at his house; they're ready now to face. Now," Fly

"Only that would be mutiny," Bowers said. "If it didn't work, he'd be shot."

"What do you think would happen to Hilario?" Fly

"I don't know. I suppose look for some guns."

Fly

It was clear to Bowers the moment they entered Hilario's adobe.

Hilario Esteban with the tightness in his face-sharp-featured now, the look of an old man gone from his eyes-and his hand holding the rusted Burnside.54 muzzle up, the stock resting on the floor. Hilario stood by the window. Five, six other men were there-threadbare white peon clothes and rope-soled shoes, patient faces that were now tired of being patient, but knew no other expression. Three of them were armed with old model rifles, older than Hilario's whose carbine had seen at least twenty years of service; and the remaining three carried knives-long-bladed knives ideal for cutting mesquite branches for cook fires, but knives that could hack through other things equally well. An old woman in black, her head covered, stooping in front of the hearth, stirring atole…because even when men made war, even when they were at the end of their patience, they still had to eat. A young girl was next to the old woman. That must be Nita. And as she looked up, hearing them enter the room, Bowers thought: No wonder Fly

La Mosca stood up now in front of the smoke-blackened hearth. She looked at Fly

Fly

Hilario shook his head. "We waited because you asked us to. But the time for that has passed. We have been waiting a long time for this Duro to become a human being; now we have proof it could never happen to him."

"Duro has a force behind him, well armed," Fly

Hilario nodded to one of the men. "At the home of Ramon's brother, others are waiting, most of them with arms. In the space of minutes we can call dozens more." He shook his head doggedly. "This has been going on too long, David."

Fly

"Listen," Hilario said. "We have been thinking about this. It isn't something of a rash moment." He went on, carefully, as if to make sure the men present would remember. "Listen. I am going to Duro's house. To his face I'll accuse him of what he's done and ask him to surrender to the people of Soyopa. Now our men will be watching from the square. If he demonstrates in any way, or, if I do not return, then our men will attack the arsenal beneath Duro's quarters. Then we will be ready for Duro's rurales should they object. After this, the first thing will be ridding Soyopa of the men of Lazair." He said this very simply as if it involved merely asking them to leave.

Fly

Fly

"David, this is my problem, as alcalde."

Fly

Hilario leaned the Burnside against the wall and turned nodding to Nita and La Mosca to serve the atole and as he did this they heard the shot. It sounded muffled, far away, from off the square somewhere.

Bowers looked up and at Fly

"A pistol."

There was silence in the room. Then, as they moved toward the door there was a flurry of shots-muffled, then louder, echoing through the square and with the gunfire the sound of a ru

They were outside now, all of them except the women who stood in the doorway. The sound of horses reached them again a minute later, but none were seen passing the end of the street.

A man rounded the corner from the square and ran toward them. Nearing them, he cried, "It is done! The rurales and the hunters of Indians are at war!"

Hilario said, "Man, speak calmly now and tell what happened."

The man was breathing hard with the excitement of what he was about to tell and now he inhaled slowly to calm himself, taking his time, because waiting for news makes it the more delicious when it comes.

"The one this man shot," he said, indicating Fly

Hilario interrupted, "Who was this you shot?"

"I'll tell you after," Fly

"The one called War-ren remained, lying with his head on the table, unable to raise it, it seemed." The man smiled as he said, "Now Sergeant Santana was there and he noticed this one. He looked at him for some time and you could see that he was thinking. Some of his rurales were there and he told one of them to bring a riata from his saddle and when he was back with it, they took the one called War-ren, who was still not conscious, to the small closet in the rear of the room, and somehow, with the rope, they secured him upright so that he appeared to be standing up, though his arms and his head hung limp."