“Totally practical,” corrected the Swagman. “It’s a tried-and-true business axiom: Never use your own money when you can use someone else’s. I just find creative ways to apply it.” He turned to Virtue. “Have we pretended that we’re all just good friends long enough, or do you prefer to play at it a bit more before talking about Santiago?”

She looked startled for just a moment. “We’ll talk about him later,” she said.

“As you wish,” replied the Swagman agreeably. “Might I inquire if there’s any particular reason why?”

“Whatever you’ve got to say,” said Virtue, “I don’t want you saying it in front of a rival.”

“You mean Father William?” asked the Swagman. Both men seemed to find her remark enormously amusing.

“What’s so funny about that?” demanded Virtue.

“Shall you tell her, or shall I?” asked the Swagman.

Father William looked across the table at Virtue. “I don’t want him,” he said.

“You don’t want Santiago?” she repeated incredulously.

“That’s right.”

“But I thought you wanted any killer with a price on his head,” she persisted. “And he’s got the biggest price of all. Why aren’t you interested in him?”

“A number of reasons,” replied Father William. “First, as long as he’s on the loose, there will be a couple of dozen bounty hunters on his trail. That’s two dozen less competitors for me. Second, he’s more trouble to dig out than he’s worth, regardless of the price on him.” He paused. “And third, I don’t know for a fact that he’s ever killed anyone.”

“Come on,” said Virtue. “He’s wanted for thirty-eight murders.”

“He’s been blamed for thirty-eight murders,” replied Father William. “There’s a difference.”

“We’ve been arguing about this for years,” interjected the Swagman. “I keep offering to team up with him, and he keeps turning me down.” He grinned. “It would appear that God is employing very selective killers these days.” He turned to Father William. “Probably you’re right,” he said sarcastically. “Probably he only killed thirty-two or thirty-three of those men and women himself, and hired out the rest.”

“Why do you want to kill Santiago?” Virtue asked the Swagman.

“You mean besides the fact that I’m an upstanding citizen who finds his very existence offensive?” he replied wryly. “Let’s just say that I have my reasons.”

Father William, who had finished his main course, pushed his plate away and got to his feet. “If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to take my leave of you before he starts expounding upon all those reasons. I don’t like arguing on a full stomach.”

The Swagman remained seated. “Lemon pie,” he said temptingly.

“With meringue topping?” asked the preacher.

“I had a feeling you’d be coming by.”