by Andre Norton
He roused suddenly, his hand flashing under his head before he returned tofull consciousness, fingers tightening on the Colt he had placed there.Not the mare--no--rather the pound of running feet and then a cry....
"No, _senor_, no! _No es verdad_--it is not true! Teodoro, he meant noharm--!"
Drew scrambled to the window. Out in the alley below, three figures reeledin the circle of light afforded by the door lantern. The Kentuckian markedthe upward swing of a quirt lash, saw a smaller shape fling up an arm in avain attempt to ward off the blow. Another, the one who cried out, wasbelaboring the flogger with empty fists, and the voice was that of a girl!
To slide down the loft ladder was again nearer instinct than plannedaction. Shiloh snorted as Drew's boots rapped on the stable floor. TheKentuckian had no idea of the reason for that fight, but he ran out withthe vague notion that an impartial referee was needed.
"You there--what's goin' on!" Sergeant Rennie came to life again in thesnapped demand.
The one who fled the quirt came up against the side of the building almostshoulder to shoulder with Drew. And he was only a boy, about Callie's age,his black hair flopping over eyes wide with shock and fright. Drew's handmoved, and the lantern light glinted plainly on the barrel of the Colt.For a moment they were all still as if sight of the weapon had frozenthem.
The attacker faced Drew directly. He was young and handsome, if youdiscounted a darkening bruise already puffing under one eye, a lip cut andswelling, a scowl twisting rather heavy brows and making an ugly square ofhis mistreated mouth.
"An' who th' devil are you?"
His voice was thick and slurred. Drew guessed that he had not only been ina fight but that he was partly drunk. Yet, as he faced the stranger eye toeye, the Kentuckian was as wary as he had been when bellying down aTennessee ridge crest to scout a Yankee railroad blockhouse. He knew whathe fronted; this was more than a drunken bully--a really dangerous man.
That queer little moment of silence lengthened, shutting the two of themup--alone. Drew could not really name the emotion he felt. Deliberately hetried to subdue the sensation as he turned to the girl.
"What's the matter?"
At first glance he might have thought her a boy, for she wore hidebreeches and boots, a man's shirt now hanging loosely about her hips. Shejerked her head, and a thick braid flopped from under her wide-brimmedhat.
"_Senor, por favor_--please--we have done no wrong. We are theTrinfans--Teodoro and me. Teodoro, he finds _Senor_ Juanito's purse in theroad, he follows to give it back. He is not a _bandido_--he is not _espia_,a spy one. We are mustangers. Ask of _Don_ Reese, of _Senor_ Kells. Why,_Senor_ Juanito, do you say Teodoro spy on you, why you hit him with thewhip?"
"Not thief, not spy!" The boy beside Drew dropped a wealed hand from hisface. "The man who says Teodoro Trinfan is _ladron_--bad one--him I kill!"
Drew's left arm swept out across the boy's chest, pinning him back againstthe stable.
"Now, what's your story?" the Kentuckian asked the man he fronted.
"An' jus' what's all this smokin' 'bout?" Kells came out. "You, Shannon,what're you doin' here? Been drinkin' again, fightin', too, by th' look ofyou."
"_Senor_ Kells." The girl caught at the older man's arm. "_Por favor,senor_, we are not thieves, not spies. We come after _Senor_ Juanitobecause he dropped his purse. Then he see Teodoro coming, he not listen--hebeat on him with quirt. You know, we are honest peoples!"
"Now then, Faquita, don't you git so upset, gal!" She was wailing aloud,making no effort to wipe away the tears running down her cheeks. "Johnny,what kinda game you tryin'? You know these kids are straight; them an'their ol' man's come to work th' Range for wild ones on Rennie's ownaskin'. Takin' a quirt to th' kid, eh?" Kells' voice slid up the scale."You sure have yourself a snootful tonight! Now you jus' walk yourselfoutta here on th' bounce. I'm doin' th' sayin' of what goes on, on my ownproperty."
"You do a lotta sayin', Kells." The scowl was gone; Shannon's batteredmouth was actually smiling. But, Drew decided, he liked the scowl betterthan the smile and the tone of the voice accompanying it. "Some menoughtta put a hobble on their tongues. Sure, I know these young whelps an'their pa too. Sniffin' round where they ain't wanted. An' mustangers ain'tabove throwin' a sticky loop when they see a hoss worth it. We ain't blindon th' Range." His head swung a little so he was looking at the girl."You'd better hold that in mind, gal. Double R hosses have come up missin'lately. It's easy to run a few prime head south to do some moonlighttradin' at th' border. An' we don't take kindly to losin' good stock!"
The boy lunged against Drew's pinioning arm. "Now he says we are horsethieves! Tell that to us before the _Don_ Cazar!"
Shannon curled the quirt lash about his wrist. "Don't think I won't, Mex!He don't like havin' his colt crop whittled down. You--" Those blue eyes,brilliant, yet oddly shallow and curtained, met Drew's for the secondtime. "Don't know who you are, stranger, but you had no call to mix in.I'll be seein' you. Kinda free with a gun, leastwise at showin' it. Asquick to back up your play?"
"Try me!" The words came out of Drew before he thought.
Why had he said that? He had never been one to pick a fight or take up achallenge. What was there about Shannon that prodded Drew this way? He'dmet the gamecock breed before and had never known the need to bristle attheir crowing. Now he was disturbed that Shannon could prick him so.
Odd, the other had been successfully turned from his purpose here. Yet nowas he swung around and walked away down the alley Drew was left with anagging doubt, a feeling that in some way or other Shannon had come offeven in this encounter.... But how and why?
Teodoro spat. His sister tugged at Kells' sleeve. "It is not true what hesaid. Why does he wish to make trouble?"
"Lissen, gal, an' you, too, Teodoro--jus' keep clear of Johnny Shannon whenhe's on th' prod that way. I've knowed that kid since he didn't havemuscle enough to pull a gun 'less he took both hands to th' job. But he'snot needin' any two hands to unholster now. An' he's drinkin' a lot--mean,ugly drunk, he is. Somethin' must have riled him good tonight--"
"In the cantina there was a soldier from the camp," Faquita volunteered."They call names. He and _Senor_ Juanito fight. _Don_ Reese, he put themboth out in the street. _Senor_ Juanito he falls, drops purse. Teodoropicks it up, and we follow. When we try to give it back _Senor_ Juanitoyell, 'spy,' hit with whip. That is the truth, _por Dios_, the truth!"
"Yeah, sounds jus' like Johnny these days. Him with a snootful an'somebody yellin' Reb and Yank. Some men can't forgit an' don't seem towant to. Johnny sure takes it hard bein' on th' losin' side--turned himdirt mean. Now, you kids, you stayin' in town?"
"_Si._" Faquita nodded vigorously. "With Tia Maria."
"Then you git there an' stay clear of Johnny Shannon, _sabe_? No moretrouble."
"_Si, Senor_ Kells. You, _senor_," she spoke to Drew, "to you we owe a bigdebt. Come, Teodoro!" She caught at her brother and pulled him away.
"What makes a kid go sour?" Kells asked of the shadows beyond rather thanof Drew. "Johnny warn't no real trouble 'fore he skinned off to ride withHoward. Sure he was always a wild one, but no more'n a lotta kids. An'he'd answer th' lead rein. 'Course we don't know what happened to him inTexas after th' big retreat th' Rebs made outta here. Could be he larned alot what was no good. Now he sops up whisky when he hits town an' picksfights, like he didn't git his belly full of that in th' war. You can'tnever tell how a kid's gonna turn out."
"Hey! Mister Kirby, you better git in here!" Callie hailed from thestable. "Th' mare ... she's...."
Drew jammed the Colt under his belt and ran.