“I would care for a side of beef, but I’d just throw it up like I did the breakfast. Damn that Lash! He got me good, Matthew. That giant-sized boot … I can still feel it knock my ribs in, damn him.” Julian blinked and brought a hand up out of the covers to wipe his forehead. “What day is it?” he asked. “Feels like it should be August by now.”

“Christmas Day tomorrow,” Matthew said. “You’ve got to get well enough for us to finish our task. We don’t have very far to go now.”

“Two days travel, at least. I won’t be up to that for a while.”

“But you will be.”

“Remains to be seen. Is Firebaugh behaving himself?”

“We’ve come to an understanding,” Matthew said.

“Good for you. Smack him in the head if he gives you any trouble. Then kick him in the nuts for me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Julian was silent for a few moments. He shifted again and once more winced with the pain. “You may … may have to go on without me. Have you considered that?”

“No.”

“Then you’re a damned fool. Time’s wasting.”

“There’s time. We have the book and the chemist, and we have a coach. There’s time.”

Matthew heard the bell ring at the front door. A visitor? Clark making another call, perhaps?

Julian suddenly tried to sit up, but he made a noise of pain and settled back against his pillow. “Can’t even sit up in bed!” he said. “Pitiful!”

“I wouldn’t be moving those ribs around like that, if I were you.”

“Pah!” was the answer. Then Julian was silent again, staring up at the ceiling, until finally he asked, “Am I going to die, Matthew?”

“I’ll tell you what I think,” Matthew replied. “I think you’re too bad to die in bed laced up tighter than a tick’s asshole. I think you have a long life ahead of you and when you die—many years from now—it will be because you’ve raced the moon one too many times, or glared too often into the sun, or walked too close to some or another cliff of destruction. But for you to die in bed? No, that’s not your fate, Julian. You won’t go quietly into the night. It’s not your style. You have too many more razor edges to climb upon. So yes … in the long run, as you told Greta Autrey … everyone dies, and it’s the truth. But for the here and now … no, you will not die.”

“A nice speech,” said Julian. “You just … you just don’t want to have to handle that team by yourself.”

“That’s also true,” Matthew said.

There came a knock at the door. Varney looked in. “Matthew, there’s someone here to speak with you.”

“To speak with me? Who?”