"I'll bite," said Crawford. "Why?"
"They haven't decided what to do with you yet," murmured Bailey. "Tarant was for taking you right back to San Antonio, but Huerta didn't want that, for some reason. Either way, it's a cinch they don't want you to get away. Sabe?"
"What's Huerta got to say about it?" said Crawford.
"He's some friend of Rockland's," Bueno told him.
"That doesn't seem to me enough reason for the way he assumes authority around here," Crawford muttered. "I thought Quartel was the ramrod."
"There's some kind of deal between Huerta and Tarant," Bailey answered, giving the cylinder another spin. "Quartel's tried to buck Huerta a couple of times and Tarant stood behind the doctor. Quartel almost lost his job the second time. Tarant gave us the idea we'd better do what Huerta liked if we wanted to keep on working here."
Crawford glanced at the gun. "I asked you to stop that."
Bueno leaned forward on the three-legged stool, placing his elbows on his knees to look up at Crawford. "So you had to come back, Glenn," he said. "Why?"
"Maybe I came back to pay a few debts," said Crawford thinly.
The oily click of the cylinder stopped abruptly. "You owe somebody something?"