Moon looked up at Bren. “He asks you to join us.”

“Tell him he smells.”

Moon motioned to him. “Come on, be sociable.” To Loco he said in Spanish, “So, here we are.”

Squatting down, Bren Early said, “Ask him, for Christ sake, what he did to the girl.”

The Apache's one eye shifted. “Did to her? Did what?” he said in English.

“Is she all right?” asked Moon.

“She needs to be beaten,” the Apache said. “Maybe cut off the end of her nose.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bren Early said. He got up and stepped to the window again.

“He speaks of Hey-soo Cristo.” The Apache paused and said, using Spanish again, “What is the matter he can't sit down?”

“He wants to do battle,” Moon said.

The Apache stretched open his one eye, raising his brow as if to shrug. “Wouldn't it be good if we could have what we want? I take all the mountains sunrise of the river San Pedro. You take all your people and go back to Washington”-pronouncing it Wasi-tona-“be by your big chief, Grover Cleveland. Man, he was very fat, do you know it?”

“He eats good,” Moon said.

“Yes, but he gave us nothing. We sat in a room in chairs. He didn't seem to know why we were there.”

“You liked Washington?” asked Moon.

“Good water there,” Loco said, “but no country or mountains that I saw. Now they are sending our people to Fort Sill in Oklahoma. Is it like Washington?”

“I don't know,” Moon said. “He served there one time,” looking up at Bren Early.

“I believe it,” the Apache said.

“It's like San Carlos, but with more people and houses.”

“With mountains?”

“I don't think so,” Moon said. “I've never been there. I've never been to Washington either. I've been to Sonora…Santa Fe, in the New Mexico Territory.”

“The buildings in Washington are white,” Loco said. “There are men made of iron on horses also made of iron. Many buildings and good water. You should go there and live if that's what your people like.”