“I don’t mean the wedding,” Franchard said. “I meant givin’ up the Texas Rangers.”

“I’ve got to think on it,” Pritchard said. “It’s why I’m asking for a leave of absence instead of turning in my star right now. I’d like to make my decision after the honeymoon.”

“Fair enough. You’ve been one of the most reliable Rangers I’ve ever had the privilege to ride with, and I’d sorely hate to lose you. But if ever a Ranger was owed some time off to settle his affairs, it’s you. I’ll wire headquarters in Austin and see what I can do about your request.”

“Thank you, Cap’n.”

“Meantime,” Franchard poured two shots of whiskey and handed one to Pritchard, “please accept my congratulations. Here’s to you, the lovely Miss Biggs, and a long life of happiness to you both on the trail ahead.”

The Rangers drank.

* * *

Two sullen cowhands sat at table in the far corner of the saloon and watched a giant young Ranger speaking to a weathered old one. They’d already consumed most of a bottle of rye whiskey.

“You sure it’s him?” Wesley Boone asked.

“I’m sure,” the other cowhand, a hard-bitten fellow named Jim Collins, said around his cigarette. “That great, big, tall feller with the scar on his head ain’t somebody you’re likely to forget. He’s the one, all right. Him and that old Ranger buffaloed us when we tried to bust Wade out of jail in Bristow. Came ridin’ in with four of our hands slung over the saddle like beaver pelts. Then I watched him gun three more Triple B hands down, quicker than a rattler bites. Killed eight more of our boys when we tried to waylay ’em on the trail to Waco. You weren’t around then, bein’ locked up in Yuma and all.”

“Pa’s gonna want to hear about this,” Wesley said. “He’ll know what to do.”

“I already know what to do,” Collins said. “Wait outside, and when them two lawmen come out we’ll blast ’em straight to hell.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Wesley said. “You just told me those two buried fifteen of our hands. You think we’re gonna take ’em ourselves? Besides, this whole town is crawling with Rangers. Even if we got lucky and plugged that pair of lawmen before they got us, we’d be captured or shot before we got out of town. You itchin’ to hang?”

“Nope.”