“They don't gain that much going to Mexico,” the voice said. It was closer now, more distinct, and Tom recognized Braz Wootan's voice. “Mexican border ain't going to stop me any more than it would stop them. You afraid to cross the border?”

“Nah. Hell, most of my boys here cross it all the time. Far as they're concerned, it don't really exist. It's like they say, they no cruzan la frontera, the frontera cruza them. There's only here, no there.”

“There's a there, and them boys is probably headed for it. Course, you're right. Them Power boys isn't going to do the logical thing. There's just as good a chance they'll head for the Chiricahuas just because no one in their right mind would do that.”

“What's your pleasure, then? East or south? I'll take the other.”

“You going to kill them if you find them?”

“Not unless I have to, no.”

“Then I want to get at them before you do, Poke. I don't want them sitting on their asses up in Florence while my brother rots in his grave.”

“I understand that, Braz. The choice is yours. If I find them, I'm not giving them over to you, though. You got to understand that.”

“I know that. You ain't got blood in this fight. I don't expect you to do anything you don't feel right about, though it's an easy thing for a man to just turn his back, walk off, and take a piss or such. But we got to move on this. The army's in it now. Detachments from Tucson and Hachita. I got to find them before the army does, if I'm going to put the end on this thing.”

“The law don't give us the right to kill, and I'm not going to be responsible, and if I got to piss in my pants, then I got to. But I ain't going to interfere with you, either. It's your call. South or east?”

“Them damned ignoramuses. If it was anyone else, I'd just head south, but I wouldn't put it past Tom Power to head east just to drag our asses through the snow. Of course, he could be figuring that's just what we would figure. Hell. I don't know. They could be heading north for all I know.”

“Anything's possible. You got a preference? Otherwise, I believe I'll just head south.”

“Well, that would be all right, I guess. No. Wait. Hell. I don't know. I'll go south, which is the way any reasonable man would go, and completely ignore the fact that Jeff Power never sired a reasonable man.”

“All right, then, I'll cut to the east.”

“Done, then. Good luck.”

“Thanks. I don't believe I can wish you the same, not wanting any more killing.”

“Not sure I exactly understand that, Poke. But I know it wasn't your blood got spilled.”

“No. No, it wasn't.”