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was empty； heavy with heat。
The temperature was over a hundred in the shade。
〃All this town needs；〃 John J。 Battles said； 〃is more water and a better class of people。〃
〃That's all hell needs；〃 Spanish replied。 〃Let's get into the shade。〃
We were hard and lonely men who rode a hard and lonely way。 We had known nothing of each other until this ride began in Yuma； and even now we knew scarcely more。 But we had sweated and thirsted together； we had hungered and fought； and eaten trail dust together； so now we rode as brothers ride。
We were men with sorrows behind us； and battles too； men with regrets behind us of which we did not speak； nor too often think。 With none to share our sorrows or regrets； we kept them to ourselves； and our faces were impassive。 Men with no one to share their feelings learn to conceal those feelings。 We often spoke lightly of things which we took very seriously indeed。
We were sentimental men； but that was our secret； for an enemy who knows your feelings is an enemy who has a hold on you。 Not all poker is played over a card table。
Although we spoke so lightly of Tucson we all liked the town； and were glad to be there。
Me； I was nothing but a tall boy from the high…up Tennessee hills who tried to live the way he'd been taught。 Ma hadn't much book learning； but she had straight…out ideas on what was fair and decent； and there was no nonsense about her and Pa when it came to dealing with enemies； or those who were evil。
Pa stood by the same principles Ma did； but Pa taught us other things too： how to stand up for what he believed was right； and to back down for no man when it came to fighting time。 He taught us how to fight； how to find our way through rough country； and how to handle cards better than most gamblers； although he didn't hold with gambling。
〃If you go among the Philistines；〃 he used to say； 〃it is better to go armed。〃
So he taught us how to recognize a bottom deal； and to read marked cards； and how the sharpers operated。 The four of us split up on the street in Tucson。 Rocca had some friends in the Mexican town； and Spanish Murphy went with him。 John J。 Battles had plans of his own； and so had I。
With me there was no choice； and little time。 I met an idea head…on； and this time I had to do whatever might be done for that boy of Orrin's。 I'd get cleaned up； get a bite to eat； and then I'd find this Laura Sackett。 I'd never met Orrin's wife； but any woman Orrin would cotton to would be all right with me。 I'd been away from the other boys and knew little of their affairs。 Tyrel had married a girl of Spanish blood； and had done well。 Orrin had run for office and been elected； and I did recall some talk of his marrying； but none of the details。 Nor had I any idea why she was in Tucson； and him in Washington。 Folks' affairs are their own business； and I never was one for asking questions。 What folks wanted me to know they would tell me； and I had enough to keep me busy。
The Shoo…Fly Restaurant was a long； narrow room with a white muslin ceiling and a floor of rammed earth。 There were a few windows； a dozen or so tables of pine boards； and some chairs and benches； none of which would set quite even on the floor； but the food was good； and it was a cool； quiet place after the desert。 When I ducked through the door and straightened up inside； it taken me a moment to get my eyes accustomed to the place。
Three Army officers sat at one table； two older men and their wives at another。 John Titus and a man named Bashford； both important men in the munity； sat nearby。 At a table in the corner near the window sat a blonde young woman； pale and pretty； her parasol beside her。 When I came in she looked at me quick and puzzled； then glanced away。
Seemed like I was the roughest…dressed man in the place； and the biggest。 My boots were down at heel； and my big California…style spurs rattled when I walked。 My jeans were 'most wore out； and they carried a blood stain。 I'd shaved； all right； but my hair was long and shaggy； and of course I was packing a six…shooter as well as a bowie knife； and carrying a Winchester。
Mrs。 Wallen； who ran the place； remembered me from a while back。 〃How do you do； Mr。 Sackett；〃 she said。 〃Did you just get in？〃
〃Four of us did；〃 I said dryly。 〃Two of us didn't。〃
Titus looked around at me。 〃Apaches？〃
〃Uh…huh 。。。 I'd say about fifteen； twenty of them。〃
〃Get any of them？〃
〃Some；〃 I said； and took a seat at a table near the wall where I could see the door and could stand my rifle in a corner。
〃If you got any；〃 one of the Army officers said； 〃you were lucky。〃
〃I was lucky；〃 I said。
Mrs。 Wallen； who knew hungry men； as any frontier woman would； was already at the table with a cup and a pot of coffee。 Then she brought me a slab of beef and some chili and beans； regular fare for that country。
As I ate； my muscles relaxed。 A man on the run or fighting can get himself all keyed up with muscle and nerve ready for trouble until he's tighter than a drumhead。 This was a pleasant room； and while I was never much hand for mixing in society； I liked folks； and liked to be among them。
Orrin was the mixer of the family。 He had him an easy way with folks； he liked to talk and to listen； and he played a guitar and sang like any good Welshman。 Give him ten minutes in a room and he'd be friends with everybody there。
Me； I was quiet。 I guess I'm friendly enough； but I was never much hand at getting acquainted with folks。
I figure I was shaped to be a wallflower； but I don't mind。 I sort of like to set back and listen to folks； to drink coffee； and contemplate。
When trouble shaped up； Orrin would try to talk a man out of it； although he was a hand at any kind of fighting when they decided not to listen。 Tyrel； he was the mean one。 I mean he was a fine man； but you couldn't push him。 He just hadn't any give in him at all。 If you e to Tyrel a…hunting after trouble he had plenty to offer。 Me； I wasn't much of a talker； and no kind of a trouble…hunter。 Folks had to bring it to me hard； but when they did that I just naturally reacted。
I'd roped and hogtied many a wild longhorn out on the plains of Texas； and I'd busted some mustangs in my time； and quite a few hard…to…get…along…with men； too。 When it came to shooting； well； me and Tyrel could never figure which was best。 We had both been shooting since we were big enough to lift a cartridge。
Sitting there in that quiet room； my muscles resting easy and the warmth of food stealing through me； I listened to the talk around and wondered if ever I would have a home of my own。 Seemed as if every chance left me with less than before。
My home was wherever I hung my hat； but these here were mostly settled folks out for a bite to eat on a Sunday； which this was。 Back in the mountains； e Sunday we used to dress in our go…to…meetin' clothes and drive down to church。
It was a fine old get…together in those days。 We'd listen to the preacher expounding of our sins； most of us kind of prideful we'd managed to sin so much； but ashamed before his tongue…lashing； and some were kind of amazed that they were so sinful after all。 Seemed like with farming and cussing the mules； a body didn't rightly find much time for sinning。
We'd sing the hymns in fine； rolling； and sometimes out…of…tune voices； and after church we'd set out under the trees with our picnic lunches and some of the womenfolks would swap food back and forth。 Emmy Tatum； she made the best watermelon pickles any place around； and old Jeannie Bland from up at the forks of the creek； she could make apple cider that would grow bark on a mushroom。
That was long ago and far away； but sometimes I could set back and close my eyes and still hear those folks a…singing 〃On Jordan's Stormy Banks〃 or 〃Rock of Ages；〃 or maybe the one about the church in the wildwood。 Everything was homemade； even the clothes we wore。 Why； I'd been nigh to sixteen before I ever saw a pair of store…bought pants； or shoes we hadn't cobbled ourselves out of our own tanned leather。
One of the Army officers was standing beside my table。 〃Mind if I sit down； sir？〃 he said。
〃Wele；〃 I said。 〃My name is Sackett； William Tell Sackett。〃
He extended his hand。 〃Captain Lewiston； sir。 You mentioned a difficulty with the Apaches。 Did you get a good look at any of them？〃
〃Well； they weren't reservation Indians； if that's what you mean。〃
〃How do you know that？〃
Me； I just looked at him。 〃By the smell of them。 They'd e out of the desert after a long ride。 The droppings of their horses showed fibers of desert plants they'd eat only if there was nothing else。〃
〃Did you say you got some of them？〃
〃Three 。。。 and one I hurt but didn't kill。〃 He looked at me； and so I told him。 〃He was too good a fighting man to kill； Captain。 I got two of them with my rifle； and then two jumped me in the hollow。 One I killed； but the other was a tiger。 He seemed to have been paralyzed so I let him lay。〃
〃You weren't alone？〃
〃Three men along with me； but not right there。 I think they might have killed some； too。〃
〃You lost two men？〃
〃Taylor and Billy Higgins。 I never knew Taylor's first name。 We didn't get a chance to pick up their bodies。 When we could pull out； we