The Bounty Hunters

They heard Duro's voice faintly. "Come back another time."

"This will not keep," Hilario called. "Already too much time has passed."

Duro hesitated. Then rested his hands firmly on the railing and looking down now he seemed suddenly more sure of himself, as if the mescal he had drunk was now making his head lighter, his senses keener. He said, "Listen, alcalde, when I want to speak to you, I'll send rurales. You'll come at that time and at no other. Now go home…and take your friends with you." He started to turn.

"Duro!" Fly

Duro looked down at them coldly. To Fly

Fly

"There's no need for them since you are neglecting to use your own."

Fly

Fly

"Then why are you here," Duro returned, "if this doesn't concern you? And if I choose not to speak to him at this time, that doesn't concern you either." Fly

"APACHES!"

18

It is always the same when you hear it…a feeling you can't describe…and right away you are picturing them, even if you've never seen one, and nine times out of ten the cry comes after they've gone-Apaches!…A dust cloud in the distance if you're quick, if you get there soon after; but usually the sign is cold and the man lying there, the survivor, ca

Apaches! Again and again and again…and the instantaneous tight throb that the word brings never changes because it is not something a man gets used to. But the reaction that comes a split second later, that changes. In a short time it changes from natural panic to trying to remember everything you know about the Apache in a few seconds; and after a half dozen years of it, when it's your business, your reaction instantly eliminates what will not help you here and now and you think of the Apache as pertaining only to this particular place, this particular time.

And that's what Fly

And now, ru

Now it's Soldado's turn-it went through Fly

Past the end of the street, beyond a rise a good two hundred yards off, the bleached tops of the tents were visible. There was smoke and scattered gunfire and suddenly, coming up the rise, up into the street, were the rurales, Santana with them, and as they rode into the square Santana was shouting for them to fan out in a circle, on all sides of the pueblo.

"Sergeant Santana!" Hilario ran close in front of the sergeant's horse as he reined in. "What is it?"

"The Anti-Christ! What do you think!"

"But how did they come?"

"Suddenly…as they always do!"

"Did you lose men?"

"Several," Santana answered, swinging down, breathing hard, watching his men disappear down the streets on all sides of the square. "They struck suddenly, riding almost directly through our camp; then they were gone, leaving some of the tents afire, moving out, away, but seeming to circle to the other side of the pueblo."

Fly

"After them! Soldado Viejo is here in force. He would like us to come out after him…so he can cut us to pieces. He is here with men! Something has happened to his thinking. Before he would raid perhaps smaller pueblos, but most of the times herders and then with never more than two dozen men. Now he has over a hundred!"

"See that your men are circling the entire village," Hilario told him, looking about anxiously.

"I know my job!"

Bowers was looking across the square toward the church where more people were entering the square. "You hear them? They're yelling Apache. God, they must be close…"

"That's the side," Fly

Hilario's head turned about, wide-eyed. "We should go over there, then."

"What about Duro?" Fly

"Ah, Senor Duro," Hilario said. "I remember his own words once…let me see…" And then he called out, "Duro!" The lieutenant's gaze dropped down to Hilario, surprised, as if he had forgotten they were there. "Duro! Stay in your house until we return. There will be a man here. If he sees your head come out of the door, he will shoot it!"

As they passed the church, many of the people were crowding into its wide doorway which the Franciscan padre stood holding open. Fly

Beyond, scattered mesquite thickets began their creeping in from the wild country and beyond the brush were pinon and scrub oak, then jackpine as the ground rose to deep-green and brown-green hills and over all of this nothing moved.

He's smart, Fly