Ditch planned to take the entire SD&P outfit, along with a herd of over three thousand Texas longhorns, to the railhead in Abilene. He knew in addition to ornery cattle, they’d face harsh weather, warring Indians, bandits, rustlers, ticks, disease, and many other dangers during the drive. He figured they could make close to fifteen miles a day and still keep meat on the cows. That would put as much as seventy-five thousand dollars in their pockets in less than two months’ time.

Ditch finished the discussion by once again offering Pritchard the opportunity to rejoin the SD&P Ranch and accompany the outfit on their cattle drive.

“I’d surely like to,” Pritchard admitted, “but I can’t. Not now, anyway. I’m committed.” He nodded to Franchard. The Ranger captain divulged his unit’s destination and mission.

“You’re goin’ into the New Mexico Territory after Dalton Stiles and his boys?” Ditch said. “That ain’t just loco,” he shook his head, “it’s suicide. Iffen Stiles and his gang don’t get you, the Apache will. You boys lookin’ to get shot, or scalped?”

“You’ve heard of Stiles and his gang?” Franchard asked.

“Who ain’t?” Ditch said. “Everywhere Stiles goes, that madman brings nothin’ but mayhem and murder. The damned fool never figured out the war is over. He kills for the plumb joy of killin’.”

“That’s why he’s got to be stopped,” Pritchard said.

“He may be a damned fool,” Franchard said, “but Major Dalton Stiles is no idiot. So far, he’s stayed out of Texas. He’s limited his murder and mayhem, as you called it, to the New Mexico and Arizona territories. That ain’t no coincidence.”

“You can’t blame him for that,” Ruiz said. “He does not want the Texas Rangers to come after him.”

“He’s got ’em on his trail now,” Captain Franchard said.

Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Pritchard ducked his head as he rode through the gritty, red New Mexico dust. The stampede string on his hat was tightly cinched around his chin, and his neckerchief covered his face below his eyes. He was on the easiest trail he’d ever followed, and the hardest one he’d ever ridden. All he and his fellow Texas Rangers had to do to track the Stiles Gang was go from town to town in the New Mexico Territory and meet widows.

After a night’s rest and a good breakfast, Pritchard, Captain Franchard, and the Texas Rangers bid Ditch, Paul, Ruiz, and the SD&P Ranch good-bye and continued their trek westward.

Three weeks, two minor skirmishes with Apache war parties, and a freak blizzard later, they found themselves in El Paso. They rested their horses, refitted with ammunition and supplies, and added six Rangers from the El Paso detachment to their unit. Two days later, twenty-four Texas Rangers rode into Las Cruces, in the New Mexico Territory.