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Valdez went to sleep right after that and Lyall sat in the chair again, feeling pretty good, not so tense anymore.

Let him try something, Lyall thought, watching the sleeping Mexican, feeling the shotgun across his lap. I’d blast him before he got through the door. He practice-swung the gun around. Cut him right in

half. Boy, it was heavy. Only about fifteen inches of barrel left and really heavy. Imagine what that’d do to a man!

He kept watching the sleeping man, his eyes going from the high black boots to the lavender shirt and the dark face, the composed, softfeatured dark face.

How can he sleep? Next Saturday he’s going to swing from the end of a rope and he’s laying there sleeping. Well, some people are built different. If he wasn’t different he wouldn’t be in that cell. But he ain’t more’n a year older than I am. How could he have already done so much in his life? And killed the men he has? Two at White Sands, one in Mesilla. Tanner. Lyall’s thumb went over the tips of his fingers. That’s four. Then two more way over to Pima County. At least six, though some claim nine and ten. And Elodie thrilled to death because she served him his dinner the night he shot Tanner. They say he was something with the girls—which about proves that they don’t use their heads for much more than a place to grow hair.

Well, he just better not try to come out of that cell. About a minute later Lyall went over and jiggled the door to make sure it was still locked.

Barney Groom came up when it was daylight, and seeing Lyall just sitting there he blinked like he couldn’t believe what his eyes told him. “You awake?”

Lyall rose. “Of course.”

“Son, you mean you’ve been awake all night?”

“I thought I was hired to watch this prisoner.”

Old Barney Groom shook his head.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothin’,” Barney said. Then, “Bohannon’s downstairs.”

Lyall said, “He want to see me?”

“When you go out he won’t be able to help it,” said Barney.

“Well, and when should I come back?”

“I ain’t the timekeeper. Ask Bohannon about that.”

They heard footsteps on the stairs and then Bohannon was in the hallway, yawning, scratching his shirtfront.

Barney Groom said, “Ed, this boy stayed awake all night!”

Bohannon stopped scratching, though he didn’t drop his hand. He looked at Lyall Quinlan, who nodded and said, “Mr. Bohannon.”

The marshal squinted in the dim light. It was plain he’d been drinking, the way his eyes looked filmy, though he stood there with his feet planted and didn’t sway a bit. Finally he said, “You don’t say!”

“All night,” Barney Groom said.

Bohannon looked at him. “How would you know?”

“He was awake when I come up.”

Bohannon said nothing.

“Mr. Bohannon,” Lyall said, “I didn’t go to sleep.”

“Maybe you did and maybe you did not.”

Bobby Valdez had been watching them. Now he swung his legs off the bunk. He stood up and moved toward the bars. “He’s telling the truth,” the Mexican said.

Bohannon put his cold eyes on Valdez for a moment, then looked back at Lyall Quinlan.

Valdez shrugged. “It don’t make any difference to me,” he said. “But make him grease his boots if he’s going to walk all night.”

Barney Groom moved a step toward the cell as if threatening Valdez. “You got any more requests?”

“Yes,” the Mexican said right away. “I want to go to church.”

“What?” Barney Groom said, then was embarrassed for having looked like he’d taken the Mexican seriously, and added, “Sure. I’ll send the carriage around.”

Valdez looked at him without expression. “This is Sunday.”

Bohannon was squinting and half smiling. “Any special denomination, Brother Valdez?”

“Listen, man,” Valdez said, “this is Sunday, and I have to go to mass.”

Bohannon asked, “You go to mass every Sunday?”

“I’ve missed some.”

Bohannon, with the half smile, went on studying him. Then he said, “Tell you what. We’ll douse you with a bucket of holy water instead.”

Bohannon and Groom left right after that. Lyall was to stay until one or the other came back from breakfast.

When he was alone again, Lyall looked at Valdez sitting on the bunk. Even after