Andy heard the thud of a bullet as it caught Jeremiah in the chest. It was followed by another. The farmer grabbed at the door facing, sighed, and fell, his body sliding down the wall.

Andy lay flat on the floor and motioned for Bethel to do the same. He shouted, “Quit firin’. Farley Brackett’s not here.”

The firing tapered off, then stopped. The two guards who had been in the backyard rushed into the hallway from the far end. They wasted only a few seconds surveying the situation. One went to the front door and called to his companions, “It’s over with. We got two people shot in here.”

The other guard trotted into the nearest bedroom and returned with a heavy quilt to spread over the flames. He stomped on the quilt until the fire was snuffed out.

Clyde Oldham entered the hallway, trembling with excitement. “We got him. We got him.” Buddy followed, pistol in his hand. It was still smoking.

Andy’s fear receded. In its place came outrage. “You sorry son of a bitch, you shot Farley’s mother and father. Farley ain’t here. He never was.”

Buddy argued, “But I saw him.”

“You saw Jeremiah, and you killed him.”

Clyde recognized Andy for the first time. “You’re Rusty Shannon’s Indian.”

Defiantly Andy said, “I’m nobody’s Indian.”

Someone found another lamp and lighted it. A policeman of severe countenance motioned for the holder to lower it while he looked first at Jeremiah, then at Elnora. She was still alive and moaning. He gave Clyde Oldham a look of loathing.

“All you did here was kill an old man and wound an old woman. I’ve had as much of your bungling as I can handle, Clyde. You’re off the force.”

Clyde demanded, “You’re firin’ me?”

“Damn right. And take your quick-triggered brother with you. I’ll be at the courthouse in the morning to pay you off. Then I never want to see either one of you, ever again.”

Buddy argued, “But Captain, I was certain—”

“Git, before I take a notion to shoot you myself.”

Bethel knelt and took her mother’s hand. Elnora squeezed Bethel’s fingers. Her eyelids fluttered open. She turned her head painfully and looked toward her husband. Her voice was barely audible. “Is he—”

“Yes, Mama, he’s gone.”

Elnora closed her eyes against a flow of tears. “I’m sorry I treated him badly. I wish . . .”

She sobbed softly. Bethel laid her arm across her mother and cried.

The police captain growled, “It was so damned unnecessary.” He cut his gaze to Andy. “Who are you? I don’t remember I ever saw you before.”

“Name’s Andy Pickard.”

“What were you doing here?”

Under the circumstances, lying came easy. “I was lookin’ for a job. They asked me to spend the night.”

The captain gave him a critical study “Do you always sleep with your clothes on?”