Rebel Spurs Part 19

Anse was quick to the rescue. "Pa-he an' Drew's Pa-they weren't too close.

Drew's Pa was town folks. He sent Drew to Kaintuck for schoolin'. Pa, he favored th' range an' th' free land west-"

Rennie nodded. "Well, Anson, if you're as good a rider as your father, we can use you here. Horse knowledge seems to run in your family. Now, shortly we are expecting a _Coronel_ Luis Oliveri who's to buy horses for the Juarez forces. He may need some a.s.sistance in driving them as far as the border. If he does, both of you'll go."

"Yes, suh."

Drew's agreement was drowned out by a harsh cry from overhead. Rennie went into action, so swiftly that for a startled moment Drew was left gaping at empty s.p.a.ce. _Don_ Cazar had caught up one of the rifles from under a window and had crossed the doorway to look back at the roof of the Casa Grande, calling out an inquiry in another language.

"Apaches don't attack at night!" Drew was heading for the door in turn.

"Outlaws do, when it pays," Anse shot out grimly.

But on a second hail from the rooftop sentry post Rennie swung the rifle over his arm and faced the outer gate of the patio.

"Unbar, Francisco!" he called in Spanish.

One leaf of the ma.s.sive door folded back to allow in a small party of hors.e.m.e.n. One saddled but riderless mount galloped along with the rest.

Another man held to the high horn with both hands and weaved back and forth while a comrade riding beside him strove to keep him from toppling to the ground. Drew had an impression of bright, almost gaudy uniforms.

The men of the Stronghold poured out to take the horses, helping down more than one blood-stained soldier. Their leader, a slender man with dusty gold lace banding his high collar, came directly to Rennie.

"_Don_ Cazar." His Spanish was a flood in which Drew was lost almost immediately, but Anse listened with parted lips and then translated a quick account.

"This here's th' _Coronel_. He an' his men was bushwhacked. Got away 'cause they met th' wagon train goin' south an' whoever was eatin' their dust huntin' them didn't seem to like the odds. Not Apaches, probably _bandidos_--"

"Kitch.e.l.l?" Drew asked.

"My guess is they ain't sure. Got hit quick an' had to stampede to save their skins."

Oliveri's men were taken in and Drew saw Rennie himself going from one of the wounded to another, applying bandages and once probing skillfully for a bullet. Drew commented on that, and Nye answered:

"Old Man knows what's he's doin'. He ain't no real doc, of course, but was I totin' me a hunka lead in some serious part, I'd rather have him diggin'

for it than a lotta docs I've seen out here. Heard tell as how once he was plannin' to be a real doc hisself. He sure can take care of a fella good.

What I'd like to know is how them bushwhackers knew jus' where to lay down an' wait for Oliveri."

"What do you mean?"

"This here _Coronel_, he was comin' to buy hosses an' so he was carryin'

money or else somethin' as could pa.s.s for money. We all knowed he was comin'. But we didn't know when or what road, an' he wasn't tellin' that his side of th' border neither. Only some jasper had such a good idea as to that what an' where, he an' some _amigos_ was squattin' back of rocks jus' waitin' for th' _Coronel_ to ride into their little pocket of fire."

"Mexicans could have trailed them up, cut ahead and waited--"

"Sure. Only this operation was too slick for most _bandidos_. They don't go in for timed, planned things; they jus' cut loose when they see a chance. This was different. Only Fenner an' some of the train guards ridin' in spoiled their game."

"Kitch.e.l.l then?"

"Sounds more like. Don't think Kitch.e.l.l's some common ridge-ridin' bad man. He'd never've lasted this long was that so-not with th' Old Man an'

th' army an' what law there is in th' territory all gunnin' for him. Plans things, Kitch.e.l.l does, an' so far his plannin' has always paid off.

"There's something else true now, too. Was Kitch.e.l.l plannin' to make a break south, he'd want him a good big stake to cover him on cold nights an' winter days. I jus' wonder if this here ain't th' first of a lot of fancy raidin' jobs. Could be he'll hit fast an' hard, gather up all th'

sweepin's an' light out. Could jus' be...."

"Don't promise us much shadin' times, does it?" Anse remarked. "Sounds like everybody's goin' to have to set up a string an' ride hosses in rotation. That is, always supposin' your supposin' is right."

"Yeah, always supposin' that," Nye agreed.

11

"Magnifico!"

Drew glanced over Shiloh's back to the speaker. _Coronel_ Oliveri paused in the doorway of the stable to study the stallion with almost exuberant admiration mirrored on his dark and mobile features.

"_Don_ Cazar"-the Mexican officer raised a gloved hand in a beckoning gesture-"_por favor_, Excellency ... this one, he is of the Blood?"

Hunt Rennie joined Oliveri. "You are right. He is indeed of the Blood," he a.s.sented.

"It is past all hope then to offer for him?" Oliveri was smiling, but his eyes held a greedy glint Drew had seen before. Shiloh was apt to produce that reaction in any horseman.

"He is not mine to sell, _Coronel_. He belongs to _Senor_ Kirby who stands there with him."

"So?" Oliveri's open astonishment irritated Drew. Maybe he did have on rough work clothes and look the part of a range drifter. But then when the _Coronel_ had arrived here last night, _he_ had not been too neat either.

"A fine horse, _senor_." Oliveri came on in, now including Drew in his gaze.

"I think so, _Coronel_," Drew returned shortly. He gave a last brush to flank and smoothed the saddle blanket.

"From a distance you have brought him, _senor_?" Oliveri walked about the stud as Drew went to fetch his saddle.

"From Kentucky." Was he unduly suspicious or was there a challenge in the Mexican officer's voice-a faint suggestion that the antecedents of both horse and owner were in question?

"Kentucky ..." Oliveri stumbled in his repet.i.tion of the word. "I have heard of Kentucky horses."

"Most people have." Drew tightened the cinch. Then his pride in Shiloh banished some of his stiffness. "He is of the line of Eclipse." Maybe that would not mean much to a Mexican, though. The breeding of eastern American horses probably did not register south of the border.

"_Senor_-such a one-he is not for sale?"

"No." Drew knew that sounded curt, but Oliveri ruffled him. He added, "One does not sell a friend."

Oliveri gave what sounded to Drew like an exaggerated sigh. "_Senor_, you have spoiled my day. How can one look at lesser animals when one has seen such a treasure? _Don_ Cazar, the Range harbors so many treasures-Oro, and now this one. How is he named, _senor_?"

"Shiloh."

"Shiloh ..." The _Coronel_ made a sibilant hiss of the word. "An Indio name?"