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Rennie climbed over his rock barricade, and other men came out of cover to move up the cut. Since no one tried to stop them, Drew and Anse went along. "Got us two of ’em ready to talk!" Jared Nye strode to meet his employer. "They’re Kitchell’s gang, all right. Only he ain’t with ’em." "Patrón—" For the first time since he had known him Drew saw Bartolomé Rivas run.
We came quickly along the river brink, and, skirting the citadel, got clear of it without discovery, though we could see soldiers hurrying past, roused by the firing at the chateau. In about half an hour of steady running, with a few bad stumbles and falls, we reached the old windmill above the Anse du Foulon at Sillery, and came plump upon our waiting comrades.
If we had the sense we shoulda been born with, we’d ride hell-to-thunder outta here now!" "Anse"—Drew wriggled up on one elbow—"you do that. I ain’t going to pull you into anything—" "So," the Texan said, nodding, "you’ve been swallowin’ down a whim-wham or two your ownself?" "Yes, but every one of them could be only a shadow to scare a jackrabbit."
Then he gathered up two canteens and filled them at the water hole, went back to loop their carry straps over Hunt Rennie’s saddle horn. Anse had a bad arm, so it was right that he should not go chasing hell-for-leather over rough country. But Drew Rennie—he was left because he was useless in another way.
"And what about HER?" Bud cut in with ominous calm. "She's your sister, kid. Would you be worried if you knew they had HER and the horse?" Eddie gulped and looked away. "They wouldn't hurt her unless they knew't Lew was dead," he said. "And them that went to Crater was killed or jailed, so " He hesitated. "It looked to me like Anse was setting up waiting for the bunch to get back from Crater.
But why the mystery? And——" Drew took the questions in turn. "Shannon was at the Jacks when I met Anse. I thought he was unconscious, but he probably wasn’t. Anse called me by my right name. As for why—my father doesn’t know I’m alive. He was told I died at birth, along with my mother. They told me he was killed in the Mexican War before I was born.
If he wants to make that valid, he wouldn’t dare any such deal!" "I’ll bet you without waitin’ to see a hole card," Anse replied, "that if that coyote was ever ridin’ on our side—which I don’t stretch ear to—he cut loose them traces long ago. There were them buzzards we had us a coupla run-ins with back in Tennessee, ’member?
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."
Compared to this flitting shadow he was a bush bull crashing through the brush. Anse was better, much better, but even he was far below the standard set by the Pima. The trio climbed, crept, crouched for long moments waiting for Drew knew not what—some sound, some scent, some sight in the night which Running Fox would accept as assurance of temporary safety.
"But, Sergeant, the news wasn't all bad " "No, suh. Only Anse never would have parted with those while he was alive and could prevent it never in this world!" "Where was your friend when he was reported missin'?" "We were on scout in Tennessee, and both of us were wounded. I was found by our men, but he wasn't. There was just a chance he might have been taken prisoner."
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