“Szandor Two, perhaps, or possibly Greenwillow. It’s been a few years since I’ve preached to either of them.” He paused. “I suppose I’ll stop by a post office somewhere along the way and make up my mind after I’ve seen the latest Wanted list.”

“Haven’t they got any post offices on Safe Harbor?” asked Cain.

Father William shook his head. “Not a big enough planet. The mail gets delivered every three weeks to the local chemical company. The townspeople pick it up when it arrives, and the rest of it gets passed out when they deliver fertilizer and insecticides to the farms.”

“How many mail deliveries have you been here for?”

“Two,” said Father William.

“Last night you told me you’d only been here a week,” said Cain.

“Last night you hadn’t told that unholy ship of yours to check with the local authorities,” replied the preacher easily. “That was unwise, Sebastian, challenging the word of a servant of the Lord.”

“Isn’t lying supposed to be a sin?” inquired Cain mildly.

“God can be very understanding,” answered Father William.

“Is He equally understanding of all the people who lied to me this morning?”

“Nobody lied to you, Sebastian.”

“More than a dozen men told me that they had never heard of Santiago.”

“Almost nobody,” amended Father William.

“When is he due to show up?” asked Cain.

“Who?”

“Santiago.”

Father William chucked. “You’re letting your imagination run away with you, Sebastian.”

“I thought we were going to talk,” said Cain.

“We’re talking right now,” said the preacher.

“One of us is talking,” Cain corrected him. “And one of us is still lying.”

Father William smiled. “You’re lucky I’m on vacation, Sebastian. I’ve taken men’s scalps for less than that.” His smile vanished. “However, I wouldn’t press my luck if I were you.”

“Am I to assume that our conversation is over?” asked Cain caustically.

“Not at all,” said Father William, rising to his feet. “But I think we’ll continue it over lunch. I’m famished!”

He walked across the unpaved street to the tavern, and Cain fell into step beside him.

Moonripple had already laid out a huge spread for Father William and looked somewhat distressed when she saw Cain enter with him.

“I didn’t know you were coming, sir,” she said apologetically. “I haven’t made anything for you.”

“He can have one of my sandwiches,” said the preacher magnanimously.

Cain looked at the table. “Are you sure seven of them will be enough for you?” he asked wryly.

“God tells us that we must make sacrifices,” said Father William, tying a napkin around his neck and sitting down. He turned to Moonripple. “Did you remember to buy the ice cream, my child?”

“Yes, sir,” said Moonripple.

“Excellent! By the way, Mr. Cain will be my guest for dinner.”