It was a little after noon, with the sun out again, when a Cavalry lieutenant and a master sergeant showed up in front of the Blackfoot. They stopped their horses in front of where Virgil and I were taking in the sun. The lieutenant nodded at us, and the sergeant spoke.
“This town got a mayor?” he said.
“Nope,” I said.
The sergeant looked at the lieutenant. The lieutenant took over.
“Town council?” he said.
“Nope.”
“Sheriff?”
“Nope.”
The lieutenant was annoyed.
“Marshal?”
I shook my head.
“So who the fuck is in charge around here?” the lieutenant said.
I thought about it for a minute.
“Well,” I said, “fella named Wolfson owns the bank, the store, the hotel, the saloon, and the saloon across the street. I suppose he might be the one.”
“Where do I find him?” the lieutenant said.
“Usually eats breakfast,” I said, “’bout this time. In the saloon.”
The lieutenant glanced up at the sun.
“Breakfast?” he said.
“Works late hours,” I said.
The lieutenant nodded.
“Canavan,” he said to the sergeant.
“Sir.”
“See if you can find him and get him out here.”
The sergeant swung down and went into the saloon. The lieutenant was quiet, looking around the town. Then he looked back at us.
“You work for this fella, Wolfson?” he said.
I nodded.
“You ain’t bartenders,” he said.
“No,” I said.
“My name’s Mulcahey,” he said. “What’s yours.”
“Everett Hitch,” I said. “This here’s Virgil Cole.”
Mulcahey looked at Virgil for a silent moment.
Then he said, “Heard of you.”
Virgil nodded modestly.
“Any other gun hands in town?” Mulcahey said.
“Why do you ask?” Virgil said.
“Might need ’em,” Mulcahey said.
“Couple of boys across the street,” Virgil said, and nodded at the Excelsior. “Cato and Rose.”
“They any good?” Mulcahey said.
He was talking to Virgil now instead of to me.
“Yes,” Virgil said.
Sergeant Canavan came out of the Blackfoot with Wolfson.
“What can I do for you, Lieutenant,” Wolfson said.
“You get things done in this town?” Mulcahey said.
“I like to think so,” Wolfson said.
“A group of Shoshones jumped the reservation last night,” Mulcahey said. “The rest of my platoon is rounding up the settlers south of town and herded them in here.”
“Here? In town?”
“Yep, we need to make some arrangements to put them up until we get the Shoshones back where they belong,” Mulcahey said. “How many can you put up here?”
“Here? In the hotel?”
“Hotel, livery stable, saloon, wherever we have to,” Mulcahey said. “We leave them out there alone and the Shoshones can have them, one at a time.”
“Who pays for this?” Wolfson said.
“Sergeant Canavan will give you a voucher,” Mulcahey said. “We’ll have them all in here by nightfall.”
“You boys going to stick around?” Wolfson said.
“Nope, can’t guard these people and chase the Shoshones, ” Mulcahey said.
“How many bucks,” Virgil said.
“Maybe twenty,” Mulcahey said.
“I didn’t sign no contract,” Wolfson said, “that I gotta protect every shitkicker that homesteads near me.”
“I’m not asking you to do it,” Mulcahey said. “I’m telling you you’re going to.”