“Having to live where they don’t want to live,” John Russell said.

“That too,” Dr. Favor agreed. “Which can’t be helped for the time being.” His eyes were still on Russell. “Do you happen to know someone at San Carlos?”

“Many of them,” Russell said.

“You’ve visited the agency?”

“I lived there. For three years.”

“I didn’t think I recognized you,” Dr. Favor said. “Did you work for one of the suppliers?”

“On the police,” Russell said.

Dr. Favor didn’t say anything. I couldn’t see his expression in the dimness, only that he was still looking at Russell.

Then his wife said, “But the police are all Apaches.”

She stopped there, and all you heard was the rattling and creaking and wind rushing past and the muffled pounding of the horses.

I thought, Now he’ll explain it. Whether he thinks they’ll believe him or not, at least he’ll say something.

But John Russell didn’t say a word. Not one single word. Maybe he’s thinking how to explain it, I thought. There was no way of knowing that. But he must have been thinking something and I would have given anything to know what it was. How he could just sit there in that silence was the hardest thing I have ever tried to figure out.

Finally Mrs. Favor said, “Well, I guess you never know.”

You never know what? I thought. You never know a lot of things. Still, it was pretty plain what she meant.

Braden was looking at me. He said, “You let anybody on your stage?”

“I don’t work for the company anymore,” I answered. I’ll admit, it was a weak-sister thing to say, but why should I stick up for Russell?

This wasn’t any of my business. He couldn’t help the ex-soldier, saying it was none of his business. All right, this was none of my business. If he wanted to act like an uncivilized person-which is what he must be and you could see it clearer all the time-then let him alone. Let him act any way he wanted.