“Winston Boone,” Ditch finished for him, “and his boys from the Triple B. I know. They left a trail a blind man could follow. Twenty horses, at least.”

“Closer to thirty,” Pritchard said. “Where’re they going?”

“They abandoned their spread. It looks like the whole outfit is headed south to Mexico. Captain Franchard and a detachment of Rangers is ridin’ after ’em.”

“How’d you find out?”

“The Triple B spread is just north of ours, remember? When the Rangers came through, looking for Old Man Boone and his outfit, they stopped by the ranch to water their mounts.”

Pritchard struggled to sit up.

“Take it easy,” Ditch said. “You don’t want to start those stitches a-leakin’. That doctor is a mean old cuss. He wasn’t going to let me in to see you. I had to insist. Practically had to threaten him. He saved you, all right, but he sure don’t act like he’s very fond of you.”

“He has every right to be angry with me,” Pritchard said. “He’s Caroline’s father.”

“Oh, hell,” was all Ditch said.

“I hate to ask you,” Pritchard said, wincing as the words came out, “but can you loan me a few dollars? I need a horse and a gun. Everything I had was taken from me at that coach station.”

Ditch knew his friend wasn’t referring to merely his property.

“You can barely sit yourself up,” Ditch said. “What do you plan on doing with a horse and a gun?”

“What I have to,” Pritchard said.

“It’s being done. I already told you, Captain Franchard and a company of Rangers are out scouring the Texas countryside for those Triple B boys.”

“They’ll never catch ’em before they get into Mexico,” Pritchard said, slowly swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Rangers have to stop at the Rio Grande. I don’t.”

“You’re planning on going into Mexico, all by yourself? After thirty armed men? In your condition?”

“That’s right,” Pritchard said.

“You’re crazy,” Ditch said. “That’s too many guns to go up against, even for you.”

“I took on more than that once, in Independence, Kansas. An entire company of Confederate guerrillas, if I recall. Besides, Old Man Boone and his Triple B hands don’t know I’m comin’ after ’em. They think I’m dead.”

“True enough,” Ditch had to admit.

“Are you going to loan me the money for a horse and gun,” Pritchard said, “or not?”