Rebel Spurs

by Andre Norton

  9

  "Times is gittin' better." Crow Fenner rode with one knee cocked up overthe horn of his saddle, allowing Tar to drop into a pace at which heseemed to be actually sleep-walking. The wagon train was traveling slow,the wagons riding heavy in the ruts with their burden of northern goodsheading south. But they were strung in good order and Drew, having seenthe screen of outriders and Pima Scouts, thought that though they offeredtemptation, they were not to be easily taken by anything less than a smalltroop, very well armed and reckless.

  "Yes, siree, this here's th' second time we made th' trip through withouthavin' to burn up a sight of gunpowder! Guess them army boys millin'around back an' forth across th' territory do some good, after all. Prettysoon there won't be no need for wearin' guns loose an' tryin' to grow eyesin th' back of yore skull!" But Fenner's own rifle still rode on guardacross his knees, and Drew noted that the scout never broke a searchingsurvey of the countryside.

  "Gittin' downright civilized, eh?" Anse brought his mount up equal withthe other two.

  Fenner spat. "Now that thar I ain't cottonin' to none. Ride 'long withoutsome Injun or _bandido_ poppin' lead at m'back. Yep, that's what a man kinenjoy. But I ain't takin' to have maybe one o' them thar engine trainssnortin' out dirty smoke an' sparks hereabouts. Took me a ride on one ofthem things onct--never agin! Why a man wants to git hisself all stuck upwith cinders an' cover territory faster than th' Good Lord ever intendedhim to travel--that's some stupid thinkin' I can't take to. A good hoss,maybe a wagon, does a man want to do some tradin' like _Don_ Cazar--that'sright enough. But them trains, they's pure pizen an' a full soppin' keg o'it!"

  Drew looked about him. The road, rutted deep by the heavy wagons, curledsouthward. Those wheel tracks had first been cut almost a hundred yearsearlier when the Spaniards had set up their southwestern outposts. Thiscountry was far older than Kentucky, and with just as bloody a history ofwars, raids, and battles. Kentucky had been tamed; trains did puff alongthrough the Blue Grass and the mountains there. But here--he shook his headin answer to his own thoughts.

  "Ain't nobody gonna try to run a railroad through here," Anse repliedpromptly. "First place, they're gonna be busy for a while back eastputtin' up new ones for all them what were busted up in th' war. Our boysan' theirs, too, got real expert toward th' end--could heat up a rail an'tie a regular noose in it, were some tree handy to rope it 'round. Gonnatake th' Yankees some doin' to git all them back into place." He laughed."Drew, 'member that time we took them river steamers an' had us a realfeed? Times when I was in that Yankee stockade eatin' th' swill theycalled rations I used to dream 'bout them pickles an' canned peaches an'crackers with long sweetin' poured on 'em!"

  "Heard tell as you boys don't think th' war's clear over yet," Fennerobserved. "Didn't you have yoreselves a ruckus with th' soldiers at th'Four Jacks?"

  Drew's reminiscent smile faded. But he was not going to keep on protestingabout the right or wrong of what happened back in town. The way Nye andTopham had hustled Anse and him out with the wagon train had made it seemas if they were in disgrace, and that rankled a lot. What was expected ofthem--that they should have let Helms pour it on--maybe serve as butts for aseries of practical jokes without raising a finger in their own defense?On the other hand, the Kentuckian could see the sense behind Topham'sarguments. If Bayliss wanted to use Drew's connection with the Range as aweapon in some scheme against Hunt Rennie, then Hunt Rennie's son was onlytoo willing to clear out. Perhaps he should clear out even farther andhead for California. Drew began to think about that. There was Sage. Shecouldn't hope to make such a trip for maybe six months. That would meanputting off traveling until next spring or early summer. But six months... Of course, he _could_ go now. _Don_ Cazar would buy the foal andShadow, too, and give him a fair price. That would be relinquishing adream. No Spur R brand would ever be established here in Arizona. Butsometimes dreams were priced too high....

  "You're mighty grim-mouthed," Anse commented, glancing at Drew sideways."Thinkin' of trains runnin' through here git you down that far? Or elsethat roughenin' up you took in town still sit sour on your stomach?"

  "Sits sour all right," Drew admitted. "Sits sourer to think we weresuckered into it."

  The scout glanced from one to the other of the young men.

  "You think there's somethin' in all that talk Topham was givin' lip to?"Anse asked.

  "Could be. Can't say as how I'd like to find out the truth. Look here,Fenner, we've heard a lot about Captain Bayliss wantin' to make troublefor _Don_ Cazar. Does everybody believe that?"

  "Everybody wot ain't blind, deef, or outta their natural-born wits,"Fenner replied. "Bayliss come out here two years ago. 'Fore that, MajorKenny, he was in command between here an' Tucson. Had him an outpost righton th' edge o' th' Range. Him an' _Don_ Cazar, they never talked no war,'cept 'gainst Apaches an' th' _bandidos_. Was there a raid, th' major, hetook out th' troops; and _Don_ Cazar, he took out his riders an' th'Pimas. 'Tween 'em they give everybody wot wanted a spot of trouble allthey could chew off an' a lot more'n they could swallow. Kept things quieteven if a man hadda rest his hand on his rifle 'bout twenty-four hoursoutta every day.

  "But this here Bayliss--he's been like a mule with a burr under his tailever since he hit th' territory. Wants to have th' say 'bouteverything--includin' wot goes on at th' Range--which he ain't never goin't' have as long as _Don_ Cazar kin sit th' saddle an' ride. Back in '62when th' Rebs came poundin' in here, they spoke soft an' nice to _Don_Cazar. They wanted him to back their play an' see 'em straight on toCaliforny. He was from Texas an' them Texas boys jus' naturally thought ashow he'd saddle up an' ride right 'long wi' 'em. Only he said it loud an'clear--that such ruckusin' round only meant th' whole country here'd go topot. When th' army pulled out, th' Apaches got it into their heads as howthey finally licked us good an' proper an' this here was their country furth' takin'. Nearly was, too.

  "Then th' Rebs got up on their high horse an' said as how iffen _Don_Cazar warn't with 'em, then he was agin 'em, an' they would jus' move inon _him_. He tol' 'em to go ahead an' try. An' seem' as how they was onlyone company hereabouts--Howard's Rangers--they didn't try. That's whenJohnny Shannon had his big bust-up with his pa an'--"

  "His father!" Drew could not help that exclamation.

  "Wal, _Don_ Cazar ain't Johnny's real pa, o' course. But he shore thinksth' world an' all of Johnny, raising him up from a li'l cub. Johnny warn'tmore'n four o' thereabouts when _Don_ Cazar went back to Texas an' gothim. _Don_ Cazar's been like a pa to Johnny since, an' a mighty good one,too. But when th' Rangers was round here in '62 Johnny--he had a big rowan' run off to join 'em. Jus' a half-growed kid, not big 'nough to raise agood brush o' hair on his chin yet. When th' Yankee boys from Californycame marchin' in an' th' Rebs had to skedaddle--Johnny, he went with 'em.Didn't see Johnny round here agin till last fall when he came ridin' inlookin' mighty beat out an' down in th' mouth. But when th' Union mencame, they was thinkin' th' same 'bout _Don_ Cazar. Wanted him to jumpright in an' swim 'longside o' them. But he said as how th' safety of hispeople was what was important. He was fightin' Apaches an' holdin' th'land, an' that was what meant th' most to his thinkin'. Then the Yankeesdid a lot of fancy cussin' out 'bout him, trying to make out that he was aReb' cause Johnny lit off with th' Southerners.

  "Till they began to discover nothin' much goes on round here lessen _Don_Cazar has a finger in th' pot. An' they had to swaller a lotta them hotan' hasty words--stuck heavy in quite a few craws, I reckon." Fennergrinned. "Only, th' _Don_, he's got agin him now a big list of little menwho'd like to be big chiefs. Every once in a while they gits together an'makes war talk. Never quite got up guts 'nough to paint their faces an'hit th' trail, not yet. But did somebody like Bayliss look like he wasbeginnin' to make things move, then he'd have a lotta willin' hands tohelp him shove. Up to now Johnny's been their best bet at gittin' th'Range into trouble."

  Drew turned his head to look Fenner in the eye. "Now you think we are!" Hedid not know why he uttere
d that as a challenge; the words just came outthat way.

  "Not any more'n any of us wot can be drawed into a fight in town. You keepaway from Bayliss. He can't come huntin' you without tippin' his hand sowide he'd never be able to play agin. Hey, here comes somebody poundin'leather so hard he's gonna beat it right intuh th' ground!" Fenner pulledup Tar, flung up his hand to signal the wagons to a halt.

  Dust rolled in a cloud with two or three riders at its center. They werepushing the pace all right. Drew jerked his carbine from its saddle boot,saw Anse beat him to that action by a scant second or two. But thenewcomers were already drawing rein, bringing their foam-lathered horsesto a pawing stop. A buckskin-clad man mounted on a powerful grulla geldingfaced Fenner, his whole tense body and snapping eyes backing the demand hemade:

  "Where's Johnny?"

  "Back at town, Rennie, at Doc's. He ain't bad. Got him a head crease wotknocked him silly for a bit. Doc says a day o' two in bed and then he kincome home."

  "How did it happen?" That second question was as sharp as the first.

  "Nobody's got it straight outta him yet. Army patrol picked him up on th'road close to town--looked like he'd been footin' it quite a spell. An' bythat time he didn't know wot he was doin'. Nye got him to Doc's an' theyput him to bed. He ain't said much, 'cept Kitchell jumped him down LongCanyon way----"

  "Kitchell!" Hunt Rennie repeated the name and nodded. "But ... Long Canyon..." There was a shade of puzzlement in his voice. "All right, carry on,Crow. I'll try to get back to the Stronghold before you pull south--ifJohnny's all right. Maybe I can bring him back with me."

  The grulla made what was close to a standing leap into a gallop and Rennieflashed along the line of wagons in the opposite direction toward Tubacca.Fenner signaled once more and the train began the slower trip southward.

  Drew sat watching the dust arise again as the trio of riders pounded away.He could no longer make out individual riders, just the rising dust.Rennie on his way to Johnny Shannon ... What had Fenner said-"li'l cub ...warn't more 'n four." Drew Rennie at four--hard to sort out one very earlymemory from another. There had been that time Uncle Murray had caught himdown at the creek, making paper boats. How could a child that young knowone kind of paper from another? But Hunt Rennie's son was judged to havetorn up a letter with deliberate malice, not just taken paper foundconveniently on the veranda. Was he four then, or even younger? But hecould remember the punishment very vividly. And the time he'd run off tosee the circus come into town, he and Shelly ... Cousin Jeff, CousinMerry, they had tried to beg him off from Grandfather's punishment thattime, not that they had succeeded. Drew Rennie at four, at six, at twelve,at sixteen--riding out at night with Castleman's Company, weaving a pathsouth through enemy-occupied territory to join General Morgan--few of thosewould-be cavalrymen over twenty-one. Yes, he could remember for DrewRennie all the way back.

  "Hey, you plannin' to claim this here range?" Anse's horse trotted up, andDrew was suddenly aware that the trailer of the last wagon had alreadypulled past him. He tightened rein, and the well-trained horse broke intoa canter.

  "Not hardly." He tried to meet Anse's attempt at humor halfway. "Don'tlook too promisin'."

  "Lissen here"--Anse rode so close their spurs were near to hitting--"yousure you got hold of th' right end of th' runnin' iron now?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, 'bout Shannon. You heard what Fenner said--Rennie's like a pa tohim. An' maybe ..." His voice died away.

  "And maybe that's that? He has my place, and it's really his now?" Drewasked bleakly. "Could be."

  Yes, it could well be that this was a good time to bow out. Maybe heshould not have ridden out of Tubacca at all. Maybe he should have cut outof the game yesterday.... Or never come down into the valley weeks ago ...or left Red Springs.... Those "maybes" stretched as far back and as neatlyin line as the railroad tracks they had been talking about earlier, oneslipping smoothly into another as if cast in one strong string of doubts.Just as he had had that moment of disappointment the first time he hadseen Hunt Rennie, so he felt that identical void now, only twice as wideand deep.

  What had he expected, anyway? Some kind of instant recognition on hisfather's part? That all the welcoming would be on the other side, breakingright through the barrier he had been building for years? His feelingswere so illogical he could have laughed at them, only he had no laughterleft. He had not tried to open the door, so why did he care that itremained firmly shut?

  "Did you ever think about California, Anse? Sounds like a place a manwould like to see."

  He was conscious that the Texan's horse quickened pace, only to be reinedin again.

  "You thinkin' about cuttin' out? Yesterday----"

  "Yesterday----" Drew tried to think back to how he had felt yesterday aboutTopham's warning and how he himself had held the absurd belief that if_Don_ Cazar was going to be in trouble, Drew himself wanted to be there.That was yesterday. But still he pointed his horse south--to the placewhere Hunt Rennie would return, bringing Johnny Shannon.

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

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

  "Don't let it git to be no habit," the Texan warned. "You try ridin'_with_ th' bumps awhile, not agin them!"

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

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

  Rivas surveyed Anse none too amicably, his gaze going from man to horseand 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, hemight have been discussing the weather.

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

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

  "I think it'd be 'no' if that hombre had th' sayin'. He plumb don't likemy 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 brawlabout his third day in town? Anyway, maybe I've a day or so to breathefull 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 hadfallen into an easy, working rhythm with Anse back in the army--so that onoccasion their thoughts and actions matched without the need forspeech--now they combined operations in the corrals. Drew's bare andpainfully acquired competence with the rope was paired to the Texan'srange training, while Anse's cruder and faster methods of "toppin' a wildone" were smoothed by Drew's more patient gentling process. Both of themwere so absorbed by what they were doing that Tubacca and what might begoing on there had no more immediate meaning than the words in the bookswhich had ridden to the Stronghold in Drew's saddlebags.

  In the late afternoon of the third day the Kentuckian was walking along-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 abuckboard in which were two other men. Drew caught a glimpse of a whitebandage under the brim of the passenger's hat and knew that Johnny Shannonwas coming home.

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


  The Texan came across the corral. Drew's bay snorted, took a dance step ortwo 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 hisneckerchief, and swabbed the lower half of his sweating face.

  "Rennie's back."

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

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

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