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on that subject again?"
    "I never left it, but I ain't having much luck."
    They went through the hotel doors together and walked across the hotel's lobby, their boots echoing in the deserted common room. The bar was almost deserted, too. Longarm said, "What the hell is this? I thought this place was the capital of Arkansas, or at least the largest town. These folks go to bed with the chickens around here?"
    Frank Carson gave him a wink. "Well, you've got to go to bed with the chickens if you're going to get up early enough to gather the eggs."
    They found a table, and Longarm signaled to the bartender to bring them a bottle and two glasses. He called across, "The best you got. You know, the Maryland whiskey that I drink."
    Carson said, "Are you from Maryland? I didn't get that impression from your dress and your speech."
    Longarm told him the same story that he had told Bob Greene. He said, "No, I'm just an old western hand. Been all over, but I've taken root in Arizona. Just looking to make a little money here or there. Got tired of the cattle business. The damned things kept wanting to eat and then you've got to keep giving them water. Hell, they're hard to keep alive."
    Frank Carson said, "Well, that's a line I've never tried. I don't see no reason to start now."
    The bartender came over with the glasses and the bottle. Longarm poured out a drink for each of them. They lifted their shot glasses, made a toast to luck, and then knocked them back. Carson looked at the remaining whiskey in his glass. He said, "Is this that Maryland whiskey you called for?"
    "Yep."
    "It's pretty smooth stuff. I reckon it runs pretty dear, though, doesn't it?"
    Longarm shrugged and nodded. "It's my view that you get what you pay for."
    Carson said, "Does that apply to moonshine whiskey, also?"
    Longarm smiled ruefully. "I wouldn't know. I can't get anybody to even admit they make moonshine whiskey around here, much less sell any."
    Carson gave him a slight smile. "Mr. Long, you look like a pretty intelligent man. Are you telling me that you expected to ride into this town, stone cold, and do some business the first day with a breed of people that are about as suspicious as a two-dollar whore?"
    Longarm said, "Well, if it comes to that, I'm willing to put up the money first, just like you would with a two-dollar whore. I'll put it on top of the bureau, but hell, I can't get anybody to even act like they know what I'm talking about. All I get are these blank stares and cold looks and then they say, 'That'll be fifty cents for the drinks but don't linger.'"
    Carson said, "Well, can you much blame them?"
    Longarm shrugged. "Hell, I don't know. I was told it was a going proposition. I mean, I came a long way to buy some of this whiskey and carry it back to Arizona and sell it for a profit. You know, we've got a lot of Indians and idiots back there that really don't give a damn what the stuff tastes like so long as it'll make them drunk. But I can't do any business if I can't find out the price. And what's more, I can't even find out if it exists."
    Carson laughed. "Oh, it exists. I hear you've been walking around town all day long drinking in different saloons. You've already had some of that whiskey."
    Longarm turned his head and spat into a spittoon. He said, "Yeah, I know. I've tasted it." Then he gave Carson a look. "How the hell would you know what I've been doing all day?"
    "Well, you haven't exactly been secretive about it. A man would have had to been blind and dumb not to have heard about this damned fool walking around asking bartenders where he could buy some whiskey in big lots."
    Longarm narrowed his eyes. "I thought you told me you didn't live here, that you were a stranger?"
    Carson lifted a finger in the air. He said, "I don't live here, but I didn't say I didn't visit here pretty often, and I didn't say I was a stranger here. I said I was passing through. I didn't say how slow or how fast I was passing through."
    Longarm sat back in