"Busted rib. It isn't so bad since Doc strapped me up."
"Vickers' doctor?"
Madrid nodded. "I can still draw a gun."
Mr. Jay's beard jerked sternly. "We won't have any of that."
"Seems like the only way left."
"It's what we should have done in the first place, maybe. But after what's happened it would be too raw. We'd have the railroad down on us, the county sheriff up here. No, for the time being well play Tesno's game."
"That means a clean-up."
"We'll go through the motions. We'll enforce a curfew for a while, send a few gamblers packing. The important thing is for us to do it, not him."
Madrid scowled, as if he didn't understand or didn't agree. Mr. Jay walked to a window and stared out, hands behind his back.
"In the meantime," Mr. Jay said, "you're to get along with him. He's top-dogged you, and you're going to have to live with it. Do you understand that?"