by Andre Norton
14
Three good strides one way, four another to measure the cell. Morning sun,gone by noon, daylight outside the window becoming dusk in turn. They fedhim army rations, delivered under guard. And the guard never spoke. Therewas no use asking questions, and Drew had none left to ask, anyway.Except, by the morning of the second day after Rennie's visit, his wondergrew. Why was Bayliss delaying a formal charge against him? This waitcould mean that the captain was not finding it so easy to prove he reallydid have a "renegade horse thief" in custody. But Drew knew he must pin nohopes on a thread that fine.
What had happened to Anse? And Shannon--gone to Mexico? He must have riddenback with the _Coronel_. Drew could expect nothing more from Rennie, orTopham. The Trinfans? Spath had marched them back, too, along with hisprisoner, but the lieutenant had not had them under arrest. The mustangerswere well known in this district and could prove their reason for beingwhere they were found. And Kitchell had raided one of their corrals lastseason, so they had no possible tie with the elusive outlaw. Probably bynow the Trinfans had returned to their hunt for the Pinto.
No, there was no use thinking that anyone was going to get him out ofthis--no one but himself, and he had bungled badly so far. Drew, his bodytired with pacing the small cell, flung himself down on the bunk andlistened to the sounds of the camp. He had pretty well worked out theroutine by those sounds. The camp itself was a makeshift affair. Its core,of which this cell was a part, was an old ranch building. There were tentsand a few lean-tos, on a plateau bounded on the east by a ravine, on thewest by a creek bottom. Huts of stone, rawhide, and planks served asofficers' quarters. In fact it was no more a fort than the bivouacs he hadknown during the war. Unfortunately this room was the most substantialpart.
If he could only get out, and pick up his horses, then perhaps he couldhead for Mexico. There was a war on down there; a soldier could find ananonymous refuge in a foreign army. Shelby's whole Confederate command hadcrossed the Rio Grande to do just that. That part was easy. To get out ofhere--that was what he could not accomplish.
Two men always came together when they fed him, and they didn't open thecell door, but just pushed the plate through. A sentry was on dutyoutside. Drew could beat time to the sound of those footfalls day andnight. And suppose he did get free of the cell; he would have to have ahorse, supplies, arms....
Drew rolled over on the cot and buried his face on his folded arms. Hemight as well try to get out of here by using will power alone to turnlocks! They left the lantern burning all night to keep a light on him, andthe sentry looked in the peephole every time he passed.
The Kentuckian did not know just when it was that he became conscious ofthe noise overhead. Lizards--maybe even rats--could move about the beams,hidden by the age-browned manta strips. But surely this was too late inthe season for a lizard to be so lively by night when the temperaturedropped with the rapidity of a weight plunging earth-ward. And ratsaloft....
Drew did not change his position on the bunk, but his body tensed. No ratwould stay in one place, gnawing with such purpose and concentration at aspot in the darkest corner of the cell roof. Anse? How or why the Texancould be at work there, Drew did not know. But that there was a stealthyattempt being made to reach him from above he was now sure.
His teeth closed on his wrist as he lay listening, to that scratchingabove, to the regular advance and retreat of the sentry. He heard the manpause by the door and knew he was under inspection. Well, let the Yankeelook! He would see his prisoner peacefully sleeping.
Now the trooper was moving on, the noise above became sharper. There was aslight crackle. The linen roofing sagged under a burden, and Drew caughthis breath in a gasp. Miraculously the yellow cloth supported the object--abulge as big as a saddlebag. A portion of the roof which had given way?
The scratching, which had stilled, began again. Then the bulge was gone,pulled away from above. Dust sprinkled down from the disturbed manta. Inthe next instant Drew moved.
Using his hands on either side of his body, he raked up the straw whichfilled the box bunk. In a swift moment, timed to the sentry's passing tothe farthest point from the spy hole, the Kentuckian rolled to the floor,slapped and pulled the blanket into place over the mounded straw. Not toogood--it certainly would not fool any inspection within the room. But inthe lantern light and this far from the door, the improvised dummy mightsatisfy the glance of the sentry for some precious seconds.
Drew was across the cell, flattened against the wall under the stillquivering strip of material. More bulges appeared and disappeared,fragments fallen and retrieved. Then a sharp point pierced downward, thetip of a knife slitting the tough stuff. A slash, and the manta peeledback against the wall of the cell.
"_Senor_--?" It was so faint a whisper Drew hardly caught it.
"Yes!" He looked up with desperate eagerness into what he had hoped tosee--the dark splotch of a hole.
A rawhide lariat smoothly braided, oiled into supple silkiness, dangledthrough. Drew got his hands on it, pulled it back against the wall as thesentry returned. He held his breath during that pause beside the spy hole,a pause which lengthened alarmingly. Then his body jerked in answer to asound a half second before he realized what manner of sound. The sentryhad sneezed. He sniffled, too, loudly; then he went on to complete hisbeat. The blanket and the straw--they had worked!
Drew pulled at the lariat, was answered by a return jerk. He jumped andbegan to climb. Then, with a wrench he was through the hole, other handshelping to pull.
"Come--pronto!" The hands were pushing, urging. He wriggled forward.Teodoro Trinfan! But why?
There was no time to ask; Drew could only obey directions. They made aworm's progress along the full length of the old ranch building, anddropped the lariat for a ladder to the ground. They crossed the small partof the camp near the ravine with the same caution they had used on theroof.
"_Senor_..." Teodoro's lips were at Drew's ear as the boy pressed againsthim in a thin cover of shadow. "Left--a big stone--put your hands onit--swing about and down."
Drew had to take that on blind trust. He had no idea what kind of a dropwaited below, and only by firm will power did he follow orders. But hisboot soles met a solid surface. Then he was caught about the waist andHilario's voice whispered to him.
"_Senor_, you stand--so." Hands fumbled about him, looping him with asupporting lariat. "Now--we go! Your hand, _senor_." Drew's left hand wascaught in a tight grip which pulled him to the right, face to the wall. Sosecured, he inched along what he knew must be the face of the ravine, histoes on some small ledge midway between lip and foot.
Somehow the three of them reached ground level, their diagonal course ofdescent putting some distance between them and the camp. In spite of thecold of the night, Drew was wet with sweat as they threaded through headysage brush. Now came the scent of horses, the sound of a hoof stampedimpatiently on gravel.
"Trinfan?"
Topham! Here?
"_Si._"
At Hilario's hissed assent, a figure detached itself from the utter blackof the bushes and moved forward into a sliver of moonlight.
"You got him?"
"I'm here, if that's what you mean!" Drew answered for himself.
"And you'll be gone, soon," the gambler replied. "But there's one thing Ihave to know, Kirby. Were you telling the truth to Rennie--do you believeJohnny took your papers?"
What had that to do with the matter at hand? Drew wondered. But from theurgency of the demand he knew it did mean a great deal to Topham.
"Yes, I'm sure. But I can't prove it--unless I find them with him. He mayhave destroyed them already." Drew put into words the black forebodingwhich had ridden him for days.
"Why? What do they mean to him?"
Evasions and lies had gotten him into this mess; now he would see whatstark truth would do.
"Because there were two letters--proof I'm Drew Rennie."
"Rennie?" Topham repeated. In the light Drew could not see his expression,but his voi
ce was that of a completely baffled man. "Rennie?"
"I'm Hunt Rennie's son." There, he had said it--and nothing startlinghappened. Well, what had he expected--a clap of thunder, a bolt oflightning, the sudden appearance of a cavalry patrol across the nearesthilltop?
"So that's it!" Topham said slowly. "And Shannon suspected? But why themystery? And----"
Drew took the questions in turn. "Shannon was at the Jacks when I metAnse. I thought he was unconscious, but he probably wasn't. Anse called meby my right name. As for why--my father doesn't know I'm alive. He was toldI died at birth, along with my mother. They told _me_ he was killed in theMexican War before I was born. It was all because of an old familyfeud--too long a story to tell now. I've only known for about a year I hada father here in Arizona ... but to make a claim on him, after all theseyears.... Maybe you don't understand why I didn't want to." He was tellingit badly, but he'd been a fool about this from the start.
"Understand ... yes, I think I can. There's a certain strain ofbull-headed independence common to Rennies--I've met it head-on severaltimes myself. And your choice was your own to make. But this ... yes, itis just the move Shannon would make, given suspicion to push him intoaction. And now it may be pushing him even farther."
Drew was a little bewildered by Topham's ready acceptance of his storywithout any proof. But the tone of the last remark caught his fullattention.
"What d' you mean? What's happened now?"
"I've had suspicions, pretty nasty ones, for some time. But I had yourtrouble--no proof. In the last three days I've picked up and sorted out afew very wild cards, and now they make a pat hand. Kitchell has had hiscontact here-abouts, all right, just as Bayliss has always insisted."
"You can't mean Shannon!"
"Johnny Shannon. And if he's doing what I think he is...." Topham paused.When he continued he had changed the subject. "Last night Nye rode up fromthe Range. Said that Kitchell made a raid, almost a clean sweep. Amongother stock he gathered up was that prize stud of yours."
"Shiloh!"
And Shannon had the horse papers! The Kentuckian was thinking fast now.
"Yes, if Shannon _is_ riding with Kitchell, now he can prove ownership ofthat stud and sell him anywhere without trouble." Topham could have beenreading Drew's mind. "But that's not as important as something else. Huntwent hell-bent-for-leather out of here. He'll gather up that private armyof his and try to trail the raiders. Maybe Kitchell will ride south, ormaybe he'll head directly back into Apache country. Either way thattrail's going to be as easy for anyone after him as walking barefootthrough a good roaring fire! Hunt still has blind faith in Johnny.... Iwas hoping you could help break that."
"That why you got me out of the camp?" Drew asked.
"Partly. Hunt told me what you said about Johnny taking your papers. I hadyou sized up as being too smart to make a claim like that unless youreally believed it. And I thought maybe you could prove it, given achance. If you can get to Hunt now ... tell him the real truth beforeJohnny rigs something of a double-cross...."
"Would he believe me any more than he did when I accused Shannon?" Drewasked bleakly. "I'll head south, all right. Nobody's goin' to lift Shilohand get away with it as long as I'm able to fork a saddle and push. But ifyou're countin' on my bein' able to influence my--my father"--he stumbledover the word awkwardly--"don't!"
"I'm counting on nothing," Topham returned. "Just hoping now. For a longtime we've heard about Johnny Shannon being a young hothead who found ithard to settle down after the war. I think there are two Johnnys and weare just beginning to know the real one. You could be his prime targetnow."
"Fair of you to point that out." Drew thought that at last he had found areal motive for Topham's services. "I'm likely to be bait, ain't that thetruth of it?"
"If you are, the trap is going to be there. But now ... get away fromhere. Teodoro will ride with you as guide."
"And the army after me. That's it!" Drew had mounted. "That's what youwant, isn't it? Me to pull the troops south? Huntin' down an escaped horsethief they might slam into Kitchell...."
What a trick! Topham had planned it without asking Drew's support. But itcalled for enough audacity, luck, and nerve to be appealing. During thewar the Kentuckian had seen such schemes win out time and time again.
"Why ain't Bayliss already ridin'?" he asked. "Hasn't he heard about theraid?"
"He's been heard to say a man can raid his own stock as a cover-up."
"What's wrong with him? Is he deaf, dumb, and blind!"
"No, just prejudiced and ridden by envy until he's not able to thinkstraight any more. But he'll track you and follow quick enough!"
"He sure will. All right ... we ride."
They did, Drew depending on the younger Trinfan's guidance. And, whileTeodoro set a meandering trail, it was not one which a determined pursuerwould have too much trouble following, come sunup or whenever that sentrydiscovered he was guarding a straw prisoner.
Once when they pulled up to breathe their horses, dismounting to loosecinches and cool the backs of the mounts, Drew indulged his curiosityfurther.
"How come you knew just where to make that hole to let me out?"
Teodoro laughed. "That was easy, _senor_. That was the Garza Rancho--onlysix months has the army been there. Many times we have camped within itswalls when we brought in the best of the wild catch for sale. I know thosebuildings very well. When _Senor_ Topham tells my father what must bedone, we could plan well and quickly. I have heard what you said to_Senor_ Topham, that you are the son of _Don_ Cazar. Why did he not knowof this? Why have you never lived here with him?"
"He didn't know I was alive, and I didn't know that he was. Mygrandfather--my mother's father--he hated _Don_ Cazar very much, because ofa duel and other things. So my father took my mother away secretly,brought her to Texas when they were both very young. Then _Don_ Cazar wentto war and the news came that he had been killed. My grandfather went toTexas and took my mother home with him. She died a few months later, whenI was born.
"It was only after my grandfather died, two years ago, that letters frommy father were found among his private papers. These I discovered when Icame home from the war, learning that my father was alive and here inArizona. Only we were strangers ... I did not know whether he would likeme for a son, or whether I wanted a stranger for a father. So, when I camehere I took the name of my _compadre_, my friend from the war, Anse Kirby.I wanted to know my father before I made my claims."
"And _Senor_ Juanito--for this he will hate you!"
"Because I did not tell who I was at the start?" Drew asked.
"No--because you are truly _Don_ Cazar's son. Always _Don_ Cazar, hetreated _Senor_ Juanito as a son, but I do not think that was enough._Senor_ Juanito, he is one who must have everything, all. Even when he wasa boy, he was like that. Bartolome Rivas, he braids beautiful ropes, andhe made one for Juanito. Always I wanted a rope like that. I would watchJuanito use it and wish. Then once we spend Christmas at the Stronghold... it was after my father was hurt and _Don_ Cazar had us to stay thereso he could tend my father's wounds. Had _he_ been with us when the wildones stampeded, my father would not walk crooked, but we got him back tothe ranch too late. But that is not what I would say. It was Christmas and_Don_ Cazar gave to me a rope like that of Juanito, a fine rope which feltas if it was a part of a man's own arm when he swung it. Two days later,that rope, it was gone, never did I find it. But I knew--I had seen Juanitowatching me when I tried that fine rope. And I knew his thoughts: no onemust have a rope as good as Juanito's! Not long after that he ran away, tojoin the army. But really that was because _Don_ Cazar caught him beatingone of the Indios. Only that is not generally known. The Indio was beingtaught by _Don_ Cazar to have charge of the grain storage, and Juanitothought that Indios are as dirt--should have no place among Anglos. _Senor_Juanito would hate with a black hate anyone who had a right to be a son atthe Stronghold, a better right than he could claim. He must always be ontop, at the head. Sometimes it would
seem that he would, if he could, pushaside _Don_ Cazar himself.... Now I think we should ride again."
By dawn Drew had no idea where they were except that they pushed south.Whether they were now on the Range he did not know. And how in theimmensity of this hostile country, they could fulfill Topham's hopes andlead the troop patrol to Rennie's posse, was something the Kentuckian didnot even try to answer. The border lay south. If Kitchell had made such asweeping raid, he would be certain to run the animals in that direction,for the outlaw was fully aware of Rennie's reputation and temper, and knewthat _Don_ Cazar would trail him with set determination.
This meant the outlaw must have set up some plan for avoiding pursuit.Rouse the Apaches? Or prepare an ambush? Either could work. Then Bayliss'men could be a saving factor. If the Kentuckian could locate Rennie, andride in to his camp--or skulk close enough to it--that should bring thetroops down.
But where was Anse? The Texan had not simply cleared out because ofimminent trouble, Drew was sure of that. Had he followed Shannon toMexico? This was one time when Drew could well understand the exasperationand frustration felt by an officer whose scouts did not report in asordered and who had no idea of the disposition of reinforcements. Talkabout going into something blind! But still he rode at a steady,mile-covering pace southward.
