Six           �I think we�re lost,� Street said, his voice breaking the silence that the trio of SWAT officers had maintained during their hike through the dark, forested slopes.  �Damn it, I wish we�d gotten that map out of the saddle bag before losing the horses.�           �I wish we hadn�t lost the horses,� Luca responded, glumly.  �On horseback, we could have gotten far ahead of those guys.  In fact, we�d probably be back at the ranch house by now eating some of Clara�s homemade apple pie.�           �Please, don�t remind me of food!� Street told him, his hand automatically going to his empty stomach.           �I don�t think we could see the map, even if we had it,� T. J. said rather gloomily, referring to the darkness that pressed down on them from all directions beneath the forest canopy.  �If the horses get back, someone should be out looking for us in the morning.  We haven�t heard any shots so far, so that must mean they haven�t found them.�           Luca hated to point out the obvious, but it was necessary to present every possibility, so that it could be dealt with.  �That�s true, but there is also the possibility that they could have been captured without shooting them or that they�re simply out of hearing range by now.  We have no idea.�           T. J.�s heavy sigh came back to him through the darkness, but the other man made no comment.  It was true; they had no idea.           �Well,� Street said after a long silence.  �We just have to be prepared to make our way out of here by ourselves.�           By unspoken consent, they stopped walking and stood grouped together as if for protection.  A cloud drifted across the moon, blocking out the light.  They had no clue to the direction they should travel to get back to Bob�s ranch house.  The silence around them was intense, and they listened intently for the sound of twigs snapping under a booted foot or the rustling of leaves that would indicate that someone was following, but they heard nothing except the monotonous chirping of crickets and the trilling sound of  tree frogs.           They had been traveling for hours, but without the map to follow, their direction was rather aimless, choosing hard, rocky ground over soft turf to keep from leaving footprints.  Tension was high, and they used all their skills and training to evade detection.  Slowly, the cloud continued its path across the sky, and the moonlight brightened their path again.           �Well, as long as we stay ahead of those guys, we should be okay regardless of where we�re headed,� Luca�s voice finally broke the silence.  �I don�t know about you guys, but I�m getting tired.�           �Yeah, me too,� Street said.  He looked up at the sky, observing the silvery moonlight that shown down on them like a spotlight.  �Let�s get in that thicket over there,� he added, pointing with his finger toward a dense clump of brush.  �The bushes and trees are pretty thick there, so we should be able to see anyone approaching before they see us.�           No one acknowledged the suggestion verbally, but it seemed like a good idea, so they moved as quietly as possible through the thick shrubs and into a stand of young trees.  Finding a suitable spot well under cover, they sat down to rest on the cool mossy ground amid the tangle of vines and last year�s fallen leaves.  Midge crowded close to her master and rested her head on his thigh.  Absently, he stroked her soft head and floppy ears.  Luca folded his arms on his raised knees and rested his forehead on them, but he was in no danger of falling asleep; he had never felt less like sleeping in his life.  Street was restless, shifting position several times in an attempt to find the best vantage point to observe their surroundings, and finally leaned back against the tree behind him.           For a long time, no one spoke as they rested from their hike through the back country.  Thin ribbons of moonlight penetrated the dense foliage of the thicket.  Ground mist was starting to fill the low lying areas, and Luca�s hair responded to the increased humidity by forming ringlets around his face and ears.  He hated his curly hair and took great care to straighten it each morning, but for once, he was too preoccupied with other matters to concern himself with it.           Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time, Luca lifted his forehead from its resting place on his arms, and broke the silence.  �Guys, I�ve been thinking.�           Ordinarily, these words would have brought a teasing round of �Uh-oh!  We�re in trouble now!� from his friends, but now no one felt like joking.  They turned toward his dark shape and waited for him to continue.           �We�ve been traveling in the dark to make ourselves less visible, right?  What if they have night scopes?�           T. J. groaned.  As the unit�s sharpshooter, he felt he should have been the one to think of it.  �I never considered that, but you�re right; it�s a definite possibility.�           �We need to stay under cover as much as possible,� Luca concluded.  �But even that won�t guarantee our safety.�           �That�s true,� T. J. agreed.  �I�ve hunted with a night scope.  It�s fairly easy to see deer moving through the brush, so it would be just as easy for those guys to see us.�  He sighed, heavily.           �I think we need to find a place to spend the night, and then start out early in the morning.  We need to rest, and the dark isn�t going to make us safer.�           �We don�t know for sure that they have scopes,� Street mused.           �Can we take the risk that they don�t?� T. J. asked.           �No,� Street admitted.           �Damn it, I wish I hadn�t lost that rifle!� T. J. swore, angrily.  He had been particularly sullen since losing the second rifle, and the others understood that he was regarding the incident as a blemish on his abilities.           �You couldn�t have known he would kick it with that kind of accuracy,� Luca said, soothingly.           �I broke one of the fundamental basics of police work!� T. J. shot back.  �Keeping our weapons out of reach of the suspects was one of the first things we were taught at the academy.  So what do I do?  I stick it right in his face, well within reach.  Harrelson will never let me hear the end of that!�           �It�s done, T. J.,� Street said, calmly.  �No use beating yourself up over it.  We�ll get the next one.�           �And there�s no reason to mention it to Harrelson,� Luca added.  �We�ll just consider it a learning experience that we�ll try never to repeat.�           T. J. gazed at his friend with gratitude, but it was too dark for them to see his expression.  His voice softened as he replied, �I appreciate that, Dom.  I guess I�m beating myself up more than Harrelson ever could.�           An owl hooted directly overhead, causing them and the dog to jump involuntarily.  Looking up, they saw the shape of the large bird sitting on a tree limb turning its head as if looking for prey.           �You know,� Luca said, quietly.  �The Indians say that the owl is a messenger from the spirit world.  They�re thought to bring omens of death.�           �Where did you hear that?� Street asked.           �From a girl I used to date.  She was part Indian.�           �I should�ve known.�           �No, I�ve heard that too,� T. J. agreed.  �I don�t believe it, of course, but that�s what I heard.�           The owl spread its wings and launched itself into the air in search of a meal.  The three young men watched as it sailed into the sky, silhouetted against the moon, until it disappeared into the forest.  Even though none of them actually believed in the superstition, it was still a sobering thought as they sat there in the dark listening for sounds that were not made by nature.           A half hour later, Midge suddenly scrambled to her feet, attracting T. J.�s attention.  He could see her light coat through the darkness, and knew that her attention was riveted on something that was approaching from the direction they had just come.  She did not bark, having been told so many times to be quiet, but he heard a low growl deep in her throat.  Quickly, he gave the �quiet� signal.  She nudged his hand urgently with her nose, as if imploring him to heed her alarm, but she obeyed his command.           Moving slowly down the slope on the other side of the meadow, they saw the powerful beam of a flashlight moving slowly toward them, its shaft of light directed at the ground, as if looking for tracks.  The beam was occasionally obscured by foliage as the bearer moved behind trees and shrubs, but the glow of light was always present.  It was too far back in the trees to see the person who carried it, giving it the illusion of being suspended in mid air as it slowly advanced.           �Don�t those guys ever sleep?� Luca whispered, even though the predator was too far away to hear him.           �They�re desperate,� Street whispered back.  �They know they have to catch us before we get to the authorities, or their drug operation will be taken down.�           They didn�t dare move a muscle for fear of snapping a twig or somehow alerting him their presence.  Even Midge stood rigidly beside T. J., her body frozen like a statue as she watched the man coming toward them.  Her nose twitched, testing the air for his scent.           The flashlight beam continued to sweep slowly back and forth across the ground, then it came up to scan the surrounding area, moving slowly from side to side, stopping once or twice to scrutinize some object with suspicion before moving on.  He emerged from the tree line and entered the meadow, a solitary figure that continued to advance toward them.  Again, he raised his flashlight beam, sweeping the area where the three officers had concealed themselves.  All three shrank down, even though the beam was too distant to reach them.           Suddenly, the sound of a helicopter penetrated the silence, and they turned their eyes skyward, watching as the aircraft glided gracefully above the trees.  A spotlight was turned on and directed toward the ground, illuminating a huge swath of ground in blinding brightness.           Hope surged in the hearts of the SWAT officers as they squinted toward the brilliant light.  The horses must have made it safely back to Bob�s ranch, and he had sent out a rescue squad to search for them!           Smiling happily, they shoved playfully at one another and rose to their feet to leave the protection of their thicket.  Sensing their suddenly lighthearted attitude, Midge�s tail waved happily.  The helicopter hovered above the cleaning, and the spotlight came to rest on the man with the flashlight.           �They�ve got him!� Street said, pleased with the swiftness with which the drug dealer had been spotted.           Then, to their utter astonishment, the criminal raised his arms, not in surrender, but in a signal to the pilot!           �Dammit!� Street swore under his breath as they shrank back into a crouched position.           The bright spotlight from the helicopter began sweeping the area, penetrating the dense canopy of the forest, and the officers knew that it was only a matter of time before it reached the thicket in which they were hiding.           Street nudged his companions.  �The chopper is moving this direction, so I suggest we move that way,� he said, pointing to his left with his finger.  He had no idea which direction it was, but as long as they were moving away from the helicopter, it was adequate.           The other two did not have to be asked twice.  Keeping low, they pushed through the dense foliage at a right angle to the direction being taken by the helicopter in the hopes that it would pass behind them.  They remained under the cover of the forest foliage, taking detours to avoid going out into the open of the clearings and meadows.  And always, they were alert to sounds and movements around them.  So alert, in fact, that when they heard a twig snap nearby, all three dropped simultaneously into a squatted position as their eyes searched the darkness for the source.          A dark shadow was lumbering through the dense undergrowth.  It was a man, moving slowly and quietly.  A thin ray of moonlight briefly brightened his face, revealing a long scraggly beard and long unkept hair.  He was apparently aware of the helicopter, for he kept glancing nervously toward the sound of it, and hunkered down as if trying to remain hidden in the foliage as he passed through it.  He was carrying something in his hands, but it was too dark to identify what it was.           The three officers exchanged glances in the darkness, each one thinking the same thing:  that this man was probably not involved with the drug dealers who were chasing them.  It was too apparent that he was trying to avoid them.           When he moved closer to the area where the three SWAT officers were hiding, he paused, as if detecting a presence that he could not see.  His eyes caught a reflection from the moon, as bright and frightened as a startled deer as he turned his head quickly from side to side, trying to determine if someone or something was nearby.           Suddenly, Street launched himself toward the stranger and took him down quickly, his hand pressed against the man�s mouth to prevent him from shouting.  He felt the harsh exhalation of air against his hand as the man uttered a muffled scream.  The object he had been carrying dropped to the ground beside him.           �Don�t make a sound,� Street commanded.  �We won�t hurt you.  We just need to talk to you, but if you try to run, we�ll sick our dog on you.  Signal that you understand.�           With wildly frightened eyes, the man looked at the English setter that stood beside T. J., and he nodded quickly.  Street slowly withdrew his hand from his mouth and rose onto his knees.           �Are you one of them?� Street asked.           Still lying on his back, the bearded stranger seemed too frightened to speak.  He stared up at the man who knelt beside him, then shifted his gaze to the other two who stood over him, looking down at him.           �Are you one of them?� Street repeated, more forcefully than before.           The bearded man apparently decided it would be prudent to make some sort of response, for he shook his head quickly.  �N-no,� he whispered.  �Wh-what are you going to do with me?�           �That depends on who you are and what you�re doing out here,� T. J. told him.           There were several moments of silence as they continued to look at the man on the ground, waiting for him to answer.  He seemed reluctant to reveal any information about himself to them, but just as Street was about to speak again, they heard the sounds of the helicopter shifting direction.           Street and T. J. kept their eyes on the stranger, but Luca chanced a glance over his shoulder.  He could not actually see the helicopter, but he could see the glow from its spotlight through the foliage.  It was definitely moving slowly toward them.           �We can�t stay here,� the bearded man said, nervously.  �If they find us, they�ll kill us.�           �You know about them?�           �Please, we need to get away from here.�           �Is there a place we can talk?� Luca asked, turning his attention back to their captive.  �Some place safe?�           The man hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the notion of taking them to the only safe place he knew, but more terrified of staying where they could be found by the drug dealers.  �I know a place.�           �All right.  Lead the way, but don�t even think about running off,� Street warned.  �Remember, the dog can run faster than you can, and she�ll take you down on our command before you can get more than a few yards away.�           T. J. and Luca exchanged amused glances, both thinking the same thing:  Midge was not an attack dog.  If they told her to �sick�im!�, she would probably just watch him run away, wagging her tail happily.  Their partner was clearly bluffing, and it was obvious that the stranger was buying it completely, for he seemed almost eager to comply.           Using both hands, Street grasped the man by the front of his shirt and pulled him to his feet.  He was shockingly light.           The man hesitated again, keeping a wary eye on them, then he bent down to retrieve the object he had dropped.  Without a word, he slowly started walking away with the three SWAT officers and the dog close behind.  He led them through the forest for nearly twenty minutes, long enough that the officers were starting to wonder if he was lost as well.           Bringing up the rear, Luca glanced over his shoulder again, drawn to the sound of the helicopter.  In the area where the foliage became less dense, he could see it in the distance now, a dark shape hovering over the treetops, its bright searchlight sweeping the area below.  Instinctively, he knew that there were probably several men inside it, peering at the ground on either side, rifles ready to pick off their prey.  �It�s still moving toward us.�           Street nudged the bearded man with his hand.  �Are you sure you know where you�re going?  If we find out that you�ve been leading us on a wild goose chase --��           �We�re almost there,� the man responded.           They reached a creek bank with a tall bluff on the other side, and the bearded man made his way across it, stepping carefully on large sandstone rocks that looked like they had been placed in their position by a human hand as stepping stones for easier crossing.  The officers followed, with Midge close behind.  When he reached the other side, the man made his way along the foot of the bluff.  Wondering where he was going, the other three trailed behind, looking cautiously about for any sign that they might be walking into a trap or that they were being followed.  Finally, the man slipped behind a large shrub.  At the base of the bluff, protected by the shrub, was a narrow black slit in the rocks.           �A cave?� Street asked, bending over to scrutinize the waist-high opening.           �Watch your heads,� the man said.  �The ceiling is low when you first go in.�  Kneeling down, he slipped into the hole and disappeared from view.           In the moonlight, Luca, T. J., and Street exchanged glances again.  None of them were eager to go into that low, narrow hole in the ground, uncertain of what they would find inside.  Behind them, they heard the sounds of the helicopter still searching for them, reminding them that their safest option was to go under ground.           With a sigh of resignation, Luca made the uncomfortable decision to go first, and stepped closer to the entrance.  �You know, he could be waiting inside with a club to pick us off one by one,� he pointed out.           �We�ll be listening for a �thud�,� T. J. replied with a hint of a smile.  �That way, we�ll know whether or not to follow you.�           Casting an acknowledging glance over his shoulder that needed no verbal interpretation, Luca crouched down and slipped into the narrow opening.  As the stranger had cautioned, the ceiling was very low, and it, the sides, and the floor were solid rock, but his groping hands discovered that the passage was not circular in shape.  It was more of a narrow vertical cleft carved into the rock.           The darkness was intimidating, and as he progressed beyond the reach of the moonlight, Luca came to a halt in the pitch blackness, fearful of falling over an unseen ledge or walking into a solid obstacle.  �It�s really dark in here!� he called, his voice echoing against the stone walls.  �I can�t see anything!�           �Just feel your way along,� the stranger advised from up ahead.  �There�s nothing to trip on or fall into.�           Only mildly reassured, the young officer inched forward, using his foot to test the ground before placing his weight on it as, still in a crouched position, he inched slowly along the dark tunnel.  Gradually, it began to expand as he felt his way around a bend in the passage, and soon his eyes detected a very faint suggestion of light.  The floor seemed to be a gradual downward slope.  The ceiling became higher, enough that he was able to stand up straight without banging his head, and he continued to feel his way along the cold walls of the cave.           Finally, he emerged cautiously into an open space, expecting to receive a blow to the head, but it never came, so he paused to observe what he quickly deduced was the stranger�s home.  A waist high rock formation formed a barrier, and behind it the cave opened up into a fairly large space.            A campfire burned in the center of the room, giving off just enough light to provide adequate visibility, and looking up, he could see the soot which stained the ceiling.  Curiously, the room was not particularly smoky, suggesting that there must be a vent somewhere.           Barely visible in the low light, an underground stream trickled lazily along the edge of the wall, winding its way out of sight in the darkness beyond, and he suspected that this was probably the stranger�s water source.  Rock formations jutted up from the floor, with some protruding downward from the ceiling.  Try as he might, Luca could not remember which was a stalactite and which was a stalagmite.  Other rock formations formed small recesses and alcoves.  Rocks of varying sizes were scattered about the floor of the cave.           A moment later, he heard a dog whine, and looked down as Midge came up behind him.  Her tail was carried low, almost between her legs, and she was moving with halting steps, clearly uncomfortable with the enclosed space of the cave.           T. J. emerged from the tunnel, looking around curiously, and Luca turned toward him.  �I think he�s the mystery man who sneaked into our camp last night.�           �Probably,� T. J. agreed.           Keeping her body low to the ground in a defensive posture, Midge moved about the room, sniffing anxiously at the strange scents.  One scent in particular caught the hungry dog�s attention, and they heard her licking at the inside of a can.  When she had licked off all the remaining juice, she took it into her teeth and brought it back for her master to see.  T. J. held up the empty Vienna sausage can.           �I guess that answers our question.�           Stooped slightly at the waist, the taller Street emerged from the opening, taking it all in with the same curiously as his partners.           The bearded man was squatted down by the fire, adding wood to the flames.  Beside him was the object he had been carrying.  It was a dead rabbit.  Apparently, it was intended to be his evening meal, for when he was satisfied with the blaze in the fire pit, he picked up his knife and began to skin the animal.           Street, T. J., and Luca hung back in the shadows at the edge of the darkness, reluctant to join the man at the fire, but all three watched in fascination at his skill with the knife.           �Who are you?� Luca asked, curiously, breaking the silence.  His voice echoed slightly on the stone walls.           When he did not answer, Street asked, �Are you the one who released our horses?�           The man nodded, affirmatively.           All three officers spoke at the same time, their voices colliding so that it was impossible to determine which words belonged to whom:           �Why did you do that?�           �Why would you do such a thing?�           �We needed them to ride out of here!�           �Because of them drug dealers.  I figured they�d go after the horses, thinkin� ya�ll was ridin� �em.  Don�t like �em hangin� around too close.�  He lifted his eyes from the rabbit, studying them carefully.  �You fellas are lucky.  Mighty lucky.  Them boys are mean to the core.  If they brought out the helicopter, they must want you bad.�           �You know they�re growing marijuana in that field out there, don�t you?� T. J. asked.           The man nodded, his eyes shifting back to his work.  �I know about �em.  But they don�t know about me.  I�ve seen just about everything they�ve done.�           �Including the murder?� Luca asked.           The man fell silent for several moments, his knife poised over the rabbit, and it was clear that he was both uncomfortable and very surprised with the question.  Not surprising, since the body had clearly been hidden in the pond.  After a moment, he resumed his work.  �You boys shouldn�t�ve come here!  Now that they�re looking for you, it makes it more dangerous for me.  Why are you up here, anyway?�           �We just rode in to do some fishing,� Luca told him.  �This is private property, by the way.  We have permission to be here, but I suspect that you don�t.�           �You Feds?�           �We�re just here on vacation,� Luca said, deliberately neglecting to mention their occupational status.  �Look, it would be easier to talk with you if we had a name that we could call you.  My name�s Luca and this is Street.  That�s McCabe.�           The man�s eyes darted from one to the other again.  He clearly did not trust them.   �Who�s the dog?�           �Her name is Midge.  She belongs to me,� T. J. said.           �Huntin� dog?�           T. J. nodded.           �Used to own a dog myself.  Long time ago.�  He was silent for several moments as he carefully peeled the rabbit skin away from the flesh.  �Ever felt a rabbit�s fur?� he asked.  �There ain�t nothin� quite as soft.�  He was quiet for several minutes, apparently debating whether or not he should reveal his identity.  Finally, his decision made, he said, �My name�s Willis.�           �Are you from around these parts?� Luca asked.           �Here and there,� was the vague answer.           �So, we�ve told you why were� up here,� Street said.  �Maybe you should tell us what you�re doing up here as well.�           �I live here,� Willis replied.           �We can see that.  But why?  Don�t you have a family somewhere?  Maybe a job waiting for you back home?�           Willis laid the rabbit skin across a large stone, fur down, apparently intending to preserve it.   He then began gutting the animal and removing its organs.  Midge was watching eagerly, licking her lips hungrily.  �Ain�t got no home no more.�           �So you live here in the wilderness,� Luca said.  �You�re the one who stole our food last night, weren�t you?�           �Reckon I over-fished the pond.  Kept me going for a long time, but there ain�t no more fish in it, and most of my snares are comin� up empty now.  I got several of�em scattered around that I check every day.  Mostly, they�re empty, but sometimes I get lucky, like tonight.  Big fat buck-rabbit,� he said proudly.  �I�ve had to go farther and farther afield to find food.  When I seen you fellas riding� in here yesterday with that pack horse all loaded down, I decided to follow, thinking I might be able to snatch some food and maybe come o� your cook pots and pans.�  His eyes darted up again, and they detected a hint of amusement there.  �Sorry if I scared you last night.  If it hadn�t been for your dog, you�d a never know�d I was there until you got up the next morning.�           �I�d say the dog gave you a bit of a scare too, the way you lit out of there,� Luca said.           A hint of a smile could be seen beneath the beard.  �That is a fact,� he admitted.  �I ain�t run that fast since . . . we�ll, I can�t remember when.  You boys may as well find yourselves a spot and sit.  Looks like you�ll be spending the night here.�           Luca, Street, and T. J. hesitated briefly, then Luca finally moved forward and selected a spot on the hard ground and sat down, cross-legged, near the fire.  The other two joined him, and all three watched as Willis finished cleaning the rabbit and placed it on a long stick which he used as a sprit, and positioned it over the fire, laying it on the forked tops of two upright sticks.           �I ain�t accustomed to havin� company,� Willis said, sliding back away from the fire to rest his back against one of the rock formations.  �That�ll take a little while to cook.�           �How long have you been up here?� T. J. asked, curiously.           �A spell,� Willis answered, evasively.           �You saw the murder, didn�t you?� Street prompted.           �Ever had rabbit before?� Willis asked, ignoring the question.  His discomfort was obvious, leading them to wonder just how much he had witnessed.           �Wouldn�t it be easier to just come back with us and tell what you saw � and we know you saw it � than it would be to stay out here struggling to find food?�  He gestured toward the man�s emaciated form.  �Look at you!  You�re half starved!�           �I make due.�  Willis prodded at the rabbit with his knife.  �It ain�t big enough to fill all four of us up, but I reckon it�ll take off the edge.�  His eyes fell on the dog.  �Reckon she can have the scraps.�           Luca sensed that Street was about to make an annoyed comment about Willis�s evasive answers, so he grasped his arm to silence him.  Jim directed an irritated glance at him, but he bit back the comment he wanted to make.           �So,� Luca said, calmly, understanding that small talk and coaxing would go a lot farther with a reluctant witness than anger and threats.  He had used the technique many times on the job when he was working with junkies on the street.  �What do you do in the winter?�           �The cave provides good shelter.  It�s a consistent temperature and keeps the weather out,� Willis replied.           �Yes, I�m sure it does, but you have to get out to find food.  I know it doesn�t get as cold here as in other parts of the country, but it does get pretty chilly.�           �That�s a fact,� Willis agreed.  �I made a poncho out of animal pelts that helps keep me warm.  I used sinew, like the Indians did, to sew the pelts together.  I gather nuts in the fall and store �em; use rocks to break �em open.  Sometimes, I dig up wild onions and garlic, and there�s other roots that are edible.  I learned �em by trial and error.  Some of �em made me sick, but others are sufficient.  Rather tasteless, though.  I get by, and I�m reasonably healthy.�  He reached up and wiggled one of his teeth.  �Except this problem with my teeth.  Some of my teeth are loose, and my gums are bleedin�.�           �You�ve probably got scurvy,� Luca told him.           Willis looked up, startled.  �Ain�t that them little bugs ---�           Luca smiled.  �No, you�re thinking of scabies.  Scurvy is caused by a lack of proper nourishment.�           �Oh, good,� Willis said with obvious relief.  �I don�t like the idea of bugs crawlin� around on me.�           Luca watched as Willis scratched at his beard, then exchanged an amused glance with T. J., both of them thinking that he was probably chasing some unseen critter around inside all those whiskers.  Almost subconsciously, he reached up to scratch his own cheek, feeling the stubble that bristled there.  He had not shaved since leaving Bob�s ranch the morning before.           Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, Luca said, �You need fresh fruits and vegetables.  You�re obviously malnourished.  Willis, it isn�t healthy for you to stay out here like this.  Wouldn�t it be better to come back with us, and tell the authorities what you know?  With your help, they could put those people away for a long time, and they�d help you get settled and get you back on your feet.�           Willis got up abruptly.  �I ain�t talkin� about this no more.�  Turning, he walked into the darkness beyond the fire�s reach, leaving the three young men alone to wonder what he was doing.  He returned a short time later with a hollowed out gourd, which he handed to Street.           �You fella�s must be thirsty.  The water there is clean and cold.  I been drinkin� there for years and it ain�t harmed yet.�           Street looked at the gourd a moment, still reluctant to drink the untreated water, but they were all extremely thirsty, so he finally stood up and went to the stream.  T. J. and Luca followed, watching as he dipped the gourd into the water, and took a sip.  It was cold and crystal clear, like well water.  �It�s good,� he said.  After drinking his fill, he passed the gourd to Luca, who drank deeply and then passed it to T. J., who made sure that Midge drank downstream to avoid contaminating it.           �How are we going to get him to talk?� T. J. asked, his voice low.           �I�ve dealt with people like him in vice,� Luca replied.  �When people are scared of retribution, they clam up and won�t budge.  We can�t force him to talk until he�s ready.  We�ll have to just make small talk with him tonight and try to win his confidence.  We can try again in the morning.�           When they had quenched their thirst, they joined Willis at the fireside again, and returned the gourd.           �Thank you very much,� Street said politely as he sat down near the fire again.           �You�re welcome,� Willis responded.           The roasting meat was permeating the cave with mouth-watering aromas, and all three of the officers and the dog watched the fat drip from it into the fire below with hissing, sizzling sounds.           As Luca had suggested, no one brought up the subject of the crime again that evening, and after they had eaten the rabbit, they stretched out on the hard ground to sleep, determined that tomorrow they would try again to convince Willis to talk to them about the things they knew he had seen.