Rebel Spurs Part 17

That was yesterday. But still he pointed his horse south-to the place where Hunt Rennie would return, bringing Johnny Shannon.

The Kentuckian fell back on the old "wait and see." He had learned long since that time took care of a lot of worries. Now he made himself grin at Anse.

"Was worryin' about wet feet before my boots were in the river again," he confessed.

"Don't let it git to be no habit," the Texan warned. "You try ridin'

_with_ th' b.u.mps awhile, not agin them!"

"Agreed." Drew urged his horse on toward the front of the train where they wouldn't have to breathe the dust.

"... m' cousin, Anson Kirby ..." Drew made, the introduction to Bartolome Rivas. The wagons were forted up outside the Stronghold, a second square, smaller but almost as easily defended as the adobe walls. In two or three days the train would pull out again, starting the long trip down into Sonora.

Rivas surveyed Anse none too amicably, his gaze going from man to horse and its gear, then back to the Texan once more.

"You are Tejano," he said flatly. "From the Neusca--"

Anse showed no surpise at being so accurately identified.

"Been bush poppin'," he agreed, smiling.

"Not much cattle here," Rivas returned.

"Run hosses in th' San Sabe 'fore th' war." Anse's tone was offhand, he might have been discussing the weather.

"_Don_ Cazar decides," Bartolome said. "There is work at the corrals, but he will decide."

"Fair enough," Anse agreed. When Bartolome had moved out of hearing, he added for Drew's benefit:

"I think it'd be 'no' if that hombre had th' sayin'. He plumb don't like my style."

"But Rennie does need men-guards for the wagon trains, riders--"

Anse shrugged as he off-saddled. "Will he want one as got into a brawl about his third day in town? Anyway, maybe I've a day or so to breathe full before he tells me to roll m' bed again, if he's goin' to."

During the next three days Drew made a new discovery. Just as he had fallen into an easy, working rhythm with Anse back in the army-so that on occasion their thoughts and actions matched without the need for speech-now they combined operations in the corrals. Drew's bare and painfully acquired competence with the rope was paired to the Texan's range training, while Anse's cruder and faster methods of "toppin' a wild one" were smoothed by Drew's more patient gentling process. Both of them were so absorbed by what they were doing that Tubacca and what might be going on there had no more immediate meaning than the words in the books which had ridden to the Stronghold in Drew's saddlebags.

In the late afternoon of the third day the Kentuckian was walking a long-legged bay on a lead when Leon climbed to the top pole of the corral.

"The _patron_ comes," he announced.

Drew faced about. Two riders escorted at hardly more than a fast walk a buckboard in which were two other men. Drew caught a glimpse of a white bandage under the brim of the pa.s.senger's hat and knew that Johnny Shannon was coming home.

"Anse!" Drew raised a hand, suddenly knowing that his fingers were moving in the old scout signal of trouble ahead.

The Texan came across the corral. Drew's bay snorted, took a dance step or two to the right as if it had picked up sudden tension from the men.

"What's up?" Anse pushed back his hat, turned up a corner of his neckerchief, and swabbed the lower half of his sweating face.

"Rennie's back."

Drew watched Leon hurry to take the buckboard reins, watched Hunt Rennie give a hand to Johnny. Then he saw Shannon jerk away from that aid, walking stiffly toward Casa Grande while Rennie stood for an instant looking after the younger man before following him.

Croaker tossed his head so high his limber ear bobbed in the murky air. He brayed mournfully. Anse glanced at the mule's long melancholy face.

"That's th' way you think it's gonna be, Croaker? Well, maybe so ... maybe so."

10

"This waitin'-" Anse sat cross-legged on the bunk next to Drew's, his thumb spinning the rowel of one spur. "I never did take kindly to waitin'.

Is he or ain't he gonna sign me on?"

Drew, lying flat, stared up at the muslin-covered ceiling which years of dust had turned to yellow-brown. "You ought to be used to it by now-waitin', I mean. We had us plenty of it in the army."

"Only that was sorta different, not kinda personal like this here. We was sittin' round on our heels then, waitin' for some general to make up his mind as to where he was gonna throw some lead fast. This is waitin' to know if _we_'re goin' to be throwed-out!"

"I heard California--" Drew began again.

"You've sure taken a shine to Californy lately," Anse commented. Under his fingers the rowel whirred. "At least you talk about it enough." He sounded irritated. "Looky here, Drew, if that's the way you really feel, why don't you go? I'm sayin' you don't feel that way, not by a long sight."

What if Drew answered with the exact truth, that he did not know how he felt?

Nye came in, trailed by three of the other Rennie riders.

"Johnny's got him a hoss-size headache an' maybe so a pair of burnt ears.

Th' Old Man musta lit into him hot an' heavy, chewed him out good. I'd say they warn't even talkin' by th' time they pulled up here. Seems like th'

kid got an idear to scout north, struck trace near th' Long Canyon, rode th' sign on his own an' was bushwacked. Guess whoever did it thought Johnny was wolf meat, jus' took his hoss an' left him there. You gotta give th' kid credit for havin' it in him. He kept on goin' after he came to some--Walked till that patrol picked him up. I'd say he sure had him a run of pure solid luck! There wasn't much pawin' an' bellerin' left in him when Muller's boys brought him to town. Been gittin' a little of it back, though, seems like. But maybe this here will learn him a little hoss sense-"

"It was Kitch.e.l.l's men who shot him?" Leon wanted to know.

"Could be. Warn't no Apaches, that's for certain. No Injun would have jus'

shot him down an' not made sure he was crow bait. Sure a fool thing to do, ridin' there alone. Anyway, th' Old Man'll stick him into bed here, an'

I'll bet you Johnny ain't gonna ride out anywhere without an eye on him-not for a good long while."

"Long Canyon-" Perse Donally, one of the other Anglo riders, paused in shucking his shirt to look inquiringly over his shoulder. "That sure is off th' trail th' kid was supposed to be followin'. How come he ever drifted that far north from th' wells round, anyway?"

"You ask him." Nye sat down on a bunk, flipped his hat away, and lay back.

"Sure feels good jus' to stretch out a mite," he observed. "Th' Old Man, he was movin' like he warn't on speakin' terms with th' law an' there was a sheriff behind every rock. Usually he's calm as a hoss trough on a mild day. Johnny gittin' his hair cut with a slug sure shook Rennie up some, almost as much as it shook Johnny. As for th' kid ridin' north-well, I'd say that was some more of his tryin' to make a real big brag. Maybe he thought he could run down Kitch.e.l.l all by hisself. Which is jus' about as straight thinkin' as kickin' a loaded polecat on th' tail end. But Johnny's always been like that. Do it now, think 'bout it later. Got him into more sc.r.a.pes 'n I can count me on both hands. Hope th' Old Man gives it to him this time, hot an' heavy, both barrels plumb center!"

"_Si_, it is true that Juanito looks for trouble." Chino Herrera rolled a cornshuck cigarette with precise, delicate twists of his fingers. "He is _el chivato_-the young billy goat-that one. Ready to take on _el toro_ himself and lock horns. Such a one learns from knocks, not from warning words. But he is yet a boy. Give him time."

"He'd better give himself some time," Nye announced. "Next time it may be in th' head, not 'longside it, that he gits his lead. See you got back in one piece, you two fightin' wildcats," Nye said, grinning at Drew and Anse. "Nothin' like tryin' to take on th' army-two to one-with th' army havin' th' advantage. That eye's fadin' good, Drew, only two colors now, ain't it?"

Drew grunted and Nye laughed. "Bet th' captain is as techy as a teased snake every time he thinks 'bout you two. Wanted to have you all corralled nice an' neat out to th' camp where he could use his hooks an' make at least three ride mounts outta you. I'd walk soft near him for a while, or you'll have about as much chance as hens amblin' into a coyote powwow."