"Do you suppose he's given up his quest Ethan?" Verna was still grinning after the couple's departure.

"I only wish. He made it quite clear to me earlier. I almost wish he could find Royce, then we could put this business to bed for good."

"What would you do to Wes if he did find and kill him?"

"Arrest him."

"What! For doing your job!"

"My job isn't killing people Verna, and let's not get into an argument over that now, okay?" Bragg frowned at his drink and shook his head. "The governor wants him back alive. He wants to get him swingin' by the neck in the centre of Danby to boost his re-election hopes."

"No matter who suffers along the way." Verna grunted sardonically. "What about that camp girl. Do you think it was your man that did that?"

"Quite possible, 'though it's bin quiet lately. I've got Horace spending his evenings up there keepin' an eye out."

"Oh, won't we all sleep more soundly for that." She gave him a sarcastic look and left the table to try to stir up some business with another song.

Across the street, Cable Royce lounged comfortably in his hotel room, his bare feet on the windowsill and a bottle of whiskey in his lap. Since his encounter with the girl, things had become boring. The other women in Tent City were staying in groups, fearful of a similar fate, and the number of guards had increased. He even saw some skinny kid deputy slinking around with his twin revolvers strapped low. Cable was getting anxious for some more excitement. Six years in that hellhole of a prison required a lot of making up, and he was considering taking a chance with one of the saloon women. During the day, Cable had strolled casually around the town checking out access to the hotel bedrooms from outside, and had satisfied himself that he could get into at least two of them without trouble.

He took a long pull on the bottle and smacked his lips noisily. Tonight would be the night.

*****

Young Daniel stood looking glumly at the floor, his mother's hand firmly on his shoulder. She stood expectantly, staring at Ethan Bragg who shifted uncomfortably behind his desk.

"I really don't know what to say, Mrs. Albertson. I didn't think—"

"Precisely. You didn't think. Using a small boy to run around town for you at all times of the day when he should be home doing his proper chores. Then you send him to spy on guests in the hotel!"

"Mrs. Albertson, I didn't send him to spy . . ." He swallowed, taking in the dour expression of the boy. "He only did me a couple of favours—"

"Oh really. And I suppose this story he's telling everyone about being on your payroll has no merit either. I've seen the money Ethan Bragg, so don't talk to me about favours." She grasped the boy by the ear and shuffled him to the front of the desk. "Give it all back Daniel, now!"

"No, don't- don't do that ma'am. He did a little work for me and I paid him. It's no more than I'd do for anyone, let the boy keep it. I promise I won't interfere with Daniel anymore, please."

She released Daniel's ear and returned her hand to his shoulder. His sweaty hand full of five-cent pieces retreated slowly back to his pocket. "Very well," she said at last, "I'm holdin' you to your word Ethan. Land sakes, usin' a small boy . . ."

Bragg stood up, giving Daniel a secret wink, and guided the pair to the door. "Don't be down on him Mrs. Albertson. He's a good, reliable lad, and he earned every penny."

"Well he comes from a good home, so he should—"

"And it shows, Mrs. Albertson, it surely shows. You take him on home now and I promise to keep my word." He eased the door closed behind them, smiling politely, then slammed himself on the forehead and stomped back to his desk. "Jesus doin' roundup, if I don't have enough trouble already!"

Daniel's spying had provided nothing useful; the man had stayed in his room all day, every day, ordering the occasional bottle of whiskey, a fact that Orin had confirmed. The information suited Ethan to a tee. It was one less person to worry about he figured. Horace's stint up in Tent City was equally unexciting. Things had quieted down a lot, mainly because the women were afraid to go off alone with any of the customers. O'Brien had stationed a guard inside the brothel tent, a move that served to dampen any ardor the customers might have had. Still, Ethan felt uncomfortable. He was almost positive Royce had committed the murder, it was too much his style to be just a coincidence. Finally, he had decided to have Horace take up a post outside of Tent City on the road north. He could watch for any comings and goings for a few hours each evening, meanwhile, Ethan would patrol the town himself.

His concerns about Wesley Torrance weren't amounting to much either. The young man was spending most of the day working to pay for accommodation for he and his horse, and at night he was usually with Megan De Hoyt. Bragg had spoken to the new widow, confirming the likeness of the sketch Danby's governor had provided, but beyond promising to keep her eyes open, she couldn't offer any further help. If it was Royce, maybe he's moved on, Bragg thought, it sure wouldn't put a crimp in my day. The oil lamp suddenly flared to life outside the office, and Horace entered carrying a bag of food and a large can filled with hot coffee.

"Just came by to tell yuh, I'm headin' up the road for the evenin'"

"Do you think you've got enough supplies?" Bragg chided.

"Hey sheriff, it gets lonesome and boring up there. I don't smoke an' I gotta do somethin'"

"What you gotta do Horace, is keep your eyes open." Bragg gave him a wave and sent him off.

Heavy dark clouds had moved into the area, making the night even blacker as Bragg set out to walk about the town. Slowly and steadily, he checked all the doors and windows of the buildings, cautiously peeking into the shadows of the small alleys in between. At the livery, he spent a few minutes jawing with Albert, satisfied that no one except horses occupied the stable. Crossing the street, he repeated the same ritual with the buildings on that side, finally reaching Granny's' where he spent a few extra minutes checking out the garden behind the house.

Cable watched from the shadows of the alley between the Barber Shop and the feed store, as the sheriff made his cautious rounds. When Bragg disappeared behind Granny's, Cable slipped down the alley to the back of the hotel and hopped up on the woodshed roof that leaned against its rear wall. Stepping quietly over the weather-beaten boards, he drew close to one of the bedroom windows, pulling himself up by the fingertips, to peer inside. Through a small gap in the lace curtains, he watched as one of the saloon's women gave a dispassionate hug to a short, skinny miner. The explosion of whiskers on his leathery face split apart with a beam of satisfaction. She opened the door and steered him out, nodding and smiling until the door shut again. Royce watched as she counted out the few bills, adding them to a thicker roll, which she returned to her gartered thigh.

"Very nice." He muttered, admiring the smooth, dark flank. Carefully, he eased the window up as the woman left the room, closing the door behind her. Climbing silently inside, he closed the window and did a quick survey of the interior. A small wash stand with a chipped enameled basin stood beside the door. A stack of clean white towels rested beside it and a bar of yellow soap, still wet from use, sat in a pink shell dish. On the floor beside the stand was a basket containing several used towels. Royce stirred his hand through them, counting four, and grinning at the woman's obvious enterprise. A dark blue, folding screen, decorated with delicate flowers, stood in one corner, providing her privacy when she stripped for her customers. A padded stool stood tight against the wall and a pair of well-used slippers hid under it. In the other corner, Royce pushed on the mattress of the hastily made bed, grunting with satisfaction, his ugly thoughts building with anticipation.

Beside the bed stood a tall wardrobe containing several different costumes and all their accessories, the tools of her profession. Here, he decided, would be his hiding place when she returned.