by Andre Norton
The nights were chill and the cold made them huddle turtle fashion intothe upturned collars of their short riding coats and jam their hats downas far as possible on their heads. Winter breathed across the land nowwith the coming of dark.
They traveled at an angle, the pace set by Teodoro who led a pack mule.Somewhere out there in the dark the Pima Scout was prowling. But he hadhad his orders: no contact with the three travelers unless there was fearof attack. And both Anse and Drew were alert, knowing that the farther onewent from the Stronghold the less one relaxed guard.
"Kinda nippy, ain't it?" Anse said. In the very dim light Drew could justmake out that the Texan was holding his gloved hand to his mouth, puffingat the crooked fingers. "Ain't as bad as ridin' out a norther, though. I'mind me how jus' 'fore th' war--I was ridin' for wages for Old Man Shawthen--we had a norther hit. I'm tellin' you, it was so cold th' ramrod cameout to give th' mornin' orders an' his words, they jus' naturally froze upsolid. Us boys, we hadda go git th' wood ax an' chop 'em apart 'fore weknew what we was all to do. Now that's what I call bein' cold!"
Drew laughed. "Don't think it ever gets quite that cold hereabouts."
It was good being away from the Stronghold, out here with Anse. It was asif he had been let out of lessons, or freed from a sense of duty andresponsibility which was a growing burden.
"Nope. Texas sure is a lotta country, a whole bag with odds an' endsstuffed in any which way. 'Course this is new range to me. But what I'veseen of it, were you jus' able to run off th' _bandidos_ an' git th'Apaches offen it for good--why, it might be a right respectable sortaterritory. A man could carve hisself out a spread as he could brag on."
"You'd like it?"
Anse blew on his fingers again. "Maybe--all things bein' considered, asthey say. I've heard tell as how all a man needs to start his own brand isa loose rope, a runnin' iron, an' th' guts to use them. It's been done,an' is bein' done all th' time. Only I don't think as how th' Old Manwould take to havin' any such big-ideared neighbor here. Not much cattle,though, to interest a wide loop man. Now hosses--everyone says as howthey's plenty of wild stuff. You got you Shiloh, Drew, an' you said youmade a foal deal with th' Old Man. Git some more good-lookin' an' actin'wild ones an' you're in business--runnin' your Spur R brand. Three-fouryears, an' th' luck a man has always got to hope for, an' you've more'njus' a stake--you've got roots an' a spread!"
"_We_ have," Drew corrected. "Why'd you suppose I wanted that foal deal?There's free land to be had in the valley. Some of the ranchers clearedout when the Apaches started raidin' and they're not comin' back. We mightlook over what Trinfan has picked up as long as we are out here. I knowthe Old Man hasn't contracted for anything but gettin' rid of that Pintostud. We could make an offer for any good slicks--put the Spur R on themand run them in on the Range. Rennie has already said that's all rightwith him."
"Whoee!" Anse muffled one of the old spirited war yells into a huskywhisper. "You an' me, we're goin' to do it! Ain't nobody can put hobbleson a pair of Tejanos as has their chewin' teeth fast on th' bit!"
It was something to think about, all right. But future chances should nottake a man's mind off the job immediately ahead. Only tonight, out here,Drew had a feeling of being able to do anything--from touching the sky withhis uplifted hand to fighting Kitchell man to man. That, however, was justwhat Hunt Rennie did _not_ want and what Drew had promised not to do.
Horses to be found back in the rough country, hidden away in the maze ofpocket canyons where there was water and enough browning grass to keepthem from straying. There must be hundreds of places ready to be used thatway. But how come Kitchell could hide out in Apache country? Nothing Drewknew of that tribe fitted in with the idea of a white outlaw band sharingtheir hunting ground unmolested. It had never mattered to an Apachewhether a man rode on the north or south side of the law--if his skin waswhite, that automatically made him prey. Drew said so now.
Teodoro answered that. "Apaches want guns, _senor_. Their arrows aredeadly, but guns are always better."
"I'd think," Anse cut in, "that any guns Kitchell'd have he'd be hangin'on to--needin' them his ownself. Can't be easy for _him_ to git them,neither."
"Not here, no," Teodoro agreed. "But south, that is different. There isbig trouble in Mexico--this French emperor fights Juarez, so there is muchconfusion. In wartime guns can be lost. A party of soldiers are cut off,as was _Coronel_ Oliveri almost--men can be killed. But a gun--it is notburied with a man. A gun is still useful, worth money, if he who picks itup from beside the dead does not want it for himself. So--such a _bandido_as this Kitchell, he could take horses, good, trained horses--maybe fromthe army--and he would run them south. He would sell them for money, _si_,probably much money. But also he could trade for guns--two, three, fiveguns at a time. Not as good as those his own men carry--old ones maybe, butgood enough for Apaches. He would then bring these north, give them aspayment for being left alone."
"Why wouldn't the Apaches just kill him and his men and grab what theyhave?" Drew pointed out what seemed to him the obvious flaw in the system.
"Apaches, they are not stupid. Guns they could take. But once such a gunis broken, where can they get another? They cannot walk into Tubacca orTucson to buy what they need. Kitchell's men do, perhaps--it is thoughtthat they do so. Also when he trades at the border it is with men whowould meet the Apaches with fire and bullets. Apache war parties are neverlarge. Perhaps in all this part of the country there are not more thanhalf a hundred warriors--and those scattered in small bands. I do not saythat this is truth, _Senor_ Kirby. I only say that it would explain manythings--such as why Kitchell has not been caught."
"Makes sense," Anse commented. "Always did hear as how Apaches weremeaner'n snakes but they wasn't stupid. Keep a tame gunrunner to work for'em--that sounds like th' tricky sorta play they cotton to. If it is so,th' man who gits Kitchell may jus' rid this country of some of themtwo-legged wolves into th' bargain."
"According to what I've heard," Drew said, "this Kitchell claims to lead aregular Confederate force that hasn't surrendered. If he wants to makethat valid, he wouldn't dare any such deal!"
"I'll bet you without waitin' to see a hole card," Anse replied, "that ifthat coyote was ever ridin' on our side--which I don't stretch ear to--hecut loose them traces long ago. There were them buzzards we had us acoupla run-ins with back in Tennessee, 'member? Scum ... some of 'emwearin' blue coats, some gray, but they was all jus' murderin' outlaws.What did they whine when they was caught? Did th' Yankees run 'em in, thenthey was unlucky Reb scouts. An' when our boys licked up a nest of th'varmints--why, we'd taken us a mess o' respectable Yank 'Irregulars,''cordin' to their story. 'Course none of their protestin' kept 'em fromstretched necks." His hand went to his own. "I oughta know, seem' as how Iwas picked up with a parcel of 'em an' was close 'nough to feel th' windwhen a noose swung by.
"This here Kitchell--I'm takin' Bible oath he's th' same mangy breed. Maybeso he started out to be Reb, but that was a long time ago an' he crossedover th' river long since. An' some of them beauties back east, they'dalapped muddy water outta an Apache's boot tracks, did it mean savin' theirdirty hides. Sounds to me, Teodoro, like you've some plain,straightforward thinkin' there--a mighty interestin' idea. An' maybe we'rejus' goin' to attend to th' provin' of it!"
"Not by ourselves," Drew corrected. "We have our orders."
"Sure. But there ain't no order ever given what says a man has to stand upan' be shot at an' he don't shoot back. No, I ain't sniffin' up trouble'shot trail like a bush hound. But neither am I goin' t' sit down an' foldmy two hands together when trouble hits as it's like to do out here."
Drew agreed with that, though he did not say so. Rennie must know thecircumstances. They would have to defend themselves if it came to a fight.But he could hope that, if Kitchell had stocked some hidden canyons withstolen horses, the outlaw leader had left no guards on duty thereabouts.With Running Fox prowling ahead and with him and Anse using all the scouttricks they had learned in w
ar-time, they should be able to learn just howcorrect Teodoro's suspicions were.