"You want something?" the saloonkeeper asked testily. He was a bald man with a vacant, puppy-dog face.
"I'm closing the Silver Slipper," Tesno said mildly. "You have until tomorrow noon to move out."
"You're what?"
"I'm not going to argue about it. Get your stock out by then or it will be smashed."
The man spread his hands and looked appealing at the others at the table. He turned his eyes up to Tesno again and said, "Look, I've got a territorial license. You can't—"
"Tomorrow noon."
Tesno pivoted and walked out. He rode up the street toward the Big Barrel, passing the marshal's office again. The freight wagons had moved on, but a little crowd was still there. Mr. Jay stood in the doorway of the office.
Tesno delivered similar ultimatums to the proprietors of the Big Barrel and the Western Star. Then he rode to the townhouse.
He dismounted at the back of the building and entered the kitchen. Stella was sitting at the table, staring vacantly at the raw materials for dinner. The news of Willie's death had already reached her.
"I was too late," Tesno said.